The room was full of Asguardians, their frustrated moans and curses echoed in an ancient tongue.
Liam wanted desperately to silence them, instead, he had made the situation worse. When he scoffed
at Dukael, the elder in charge since Raphael and Armatos was in Khiron,
He had insulted them-
The Angel's offspring, and called them wingless trash, after that, it pretty much sealed his faith.
The discussion at present was who would take him to the Elvan domain. The mountain in Safiereal was
made with a rare metal, which weakened all angelic descendants including the Tempters children. The
idea was to torture him there, in hopes to seek vengeance, for burning their scrolls over a thousand
years ago.
They slashed him continuously in the past hours with what looked like a scourge but was actually an
Angelic laced whip called Dresta, made and named by Azazy-el, the master of weaponry himself.
Unfortunate for them, it hadn’t done the damage they had hoped. Eventually, as the hours progressed,
he was allowed a comfortable seat on a throne chair in the centre of the room. Though he was
forbidden on the sacred ground, no one had stepped forward and asked him how he had entered.
Liam absorbed the attention, as he sat on the throne chair, left in view for all those in the room to see.
He should have said something, but, his mind was not focused on the present, as much as they
thought.
He was surely focused, but on something far beyond- a barely-there woman with enticing lips that
pouted when she teased you or got so upset that she had to rein herself in. The woman with the most
malicious yet seductive smirk that played on her mouth, when you dared challenged her, as it taunted
its victim,
His Princess,
She was always ready to defend, and those wicked green eyes that were barely leashed, held a man
captive, without knowing how deep he’d fallen until there was no way up. It satisfied him, knowing he
alone could see the smoky silver specks which recently dotted the rims of those hypnotizing eyes.
Her situation was the only one he cared about, he was still conflicted when it came to her. This
uncensored attraction made him edgy and agitated. It messed with his control, and he needed to be in
control, it was what made him, his father’s child. It was the one thing that took precedence over
everything else, it was the one emotion he honed himself to master, to utter perfection. Control was his
greatest weapon, the one that had won him all his battles, and kept his secrets, just that, secrets. He
fought within himself, an ongoing battle, a waging war, he wanted to be there with her, but there was so
many risks, so many dispositions and too much at stake.
He needed more answers first, he needed to know, how many would have to die to keep her safe. How
many Angels and Tempters he’d have to massacre by his blade, and how much danger he was about
to put his young siblings in, he needed to come to a decision, was she worth it? All that blood, all those
souls that would be spilt in her name, the name of one defenceless Lightwatcher, who now had the
heavens and hell after her, because one single tear had landed on a two-year-old Lightwatcher,
probably not,
He knew that her death would be the course in which the Asguardians and most of the Angels would
take to protect their Prince, it was what they had done willingly for thousands of years. It was not the
one the Tempters were taking, and it definitely wasn’t the course he himself followed, not by a long ride,
and he will sever the heads of any who dared strike against his princess.
He wandered his eyes, and extended his hearing, as he sought out Dukael, impatience and irritation
riddled on the Asguardians expression. Liam could tell by listening to the extended thumping of
Dukael’s heart, that he was losing patience, and fast.
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