8. Diablos
Chapter eight
Diablos
Iwanted time to reverse so we could return to last night and its games.
The tension in the room was suffocating.
We were all lost in thought, like we were waiting for a judge to deliver our prison sentences.
My mind was yet again exaggerating things.
A voice kept insisting that everything would change today.
When I was about to ask where our dad was, he entered the room. He scanned all of us, his gaze lingering on Dagon, whose body became even more rigid. So much for not looking at him. My eyes were like magnets when it came to him.
He always had these pissed-off vibes. Right now, his eyes could freeze anyone on the spot. Literally.
I didn’t know what to expect anymore. My insides churned. All these nerves and unpredictability were making me sick.
Luckily, before I got even more entangled in the spiderweb of my thoughts, King broke the staring contest with Dagon. He sat down in the chair across from us and said with authority I’d never heard: “Dagon, sit.” When Dagon didn’t move, our father slowly repeated, “Sit. Right. Now.”
Dagon exhaled heavily but did as he was told. When everyone turned to our father expectantly, what came out of his mouth made us all look at him as if he had just declared he was an alien. But his words weren't what made me look twice. No, it was the way he said them.
“I know what I have to say to you today will be hard to hear. I also know you will probably think I’m crazy. Many questions will arise, but I need you to only listen.”
A shiver of familiarity ran down my spine, and I straightened my shoulders.
Memories of my past crashed into me: the intimidating figure of my biological father looming over me, his cold voice laced with authority and threat.
The power plays he loved so much flashed before me as I stared into King’s eyes.
This was the first time King provoked these feelings inside me, and I knew why.
The person sitting there was not our father.
His voice was cold and commanding, stripped of its usual warmth. In the past, even when he was scolding us, there was warmth in his eyes and voice. Now there was only cold authority and not a drop of anything else.
The shift in our father's voice didn't escape my brothers.
Wilder straightened in his seat. Bren cocked his brow and crossed his arms. Luc looked confused.
Andras did too. Dagon and I, on the other hand, were schooling our expressions to the best of our ability.
For me, it was an automatic reaction. I knew something bad was coming.
I felt it in my racing heartbeat, the pulsing headache building behind my eyes, and in my bones that remembered all the times someone with authority had stood before me like this.
This was not the time to lose my shit, not when I was surrounded by my family.
I turned back to our father and found him staring at me. I shifted in my chair and caught Dagon going rigid in my peripheral vision, but I didn't look at him. I was too busy trying to breathe under our father's gaze. What was happening?
I couldn't help it. I looked at Dagon, and my heart squeezed. There was something in his eyes I had never seen before – something that resembled fear. It vanished too quickly for me to be sure.
King took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders like he was preparing for war. His eyes hardened, his defenses rising. The look on his face was that of a man on a mission. My gut told me that mission would be something none of us would like.
“I’m not a human,” he blurted.
Silence.
Complete and utter silence swallowed the room as if time had stopped.
Someone should call 911. It was clear our father wasn't in a good mental state. And if he was, then call 911 anyway, because I was the one who wasn't okay.
Did I hear him correctly?
I noticed my brothers had similar expressions of confusion and worry, all except for Dagon. The pain and anger in his eyes churned devastatingly. It was like a punch to the heart.
“I’m not a human,” King repeated, pulling my focus back to him. “I know it sounds crazy. I know it sounds unbelievable. But it’s the truth, and it’s time for my sons to know everything.”
“Dad, what are you talking about? Are you alright?” Luc was the first to find his voice.
“I’m fine, son, but it’s time. I know you won’t believe anything I say without seeing it, so I just…” He trailed off, the sentence left unfinished.
Then he stood abruptly, casting one last look at us before blowing our whole world apart. Before I could register what was happening, wings, very, very real wings, unfurled from his back. His shirt lay in shreds on the floor, and I realized I was gaping, my jaw on the floor.
The wings were massive, spanning over half the room. The left was covered in black feathers, and the right in white. Holy shit. It was official. I was hallucinating. This was a trick, right? He was pulling a prank, right?
“What the fuck?” Wilder and Andras said in unison, both lurching from their chairs, sending them crashing back on the ground.
I saw the horror, shock, and bewilderment on everyone’s faces.
“Great. We’re all hallucinating together.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but I was relieved I wasn’t alone in this. Well, kind of.
“You’re not. What you see is the truth.”
“And what exactly is the truth, Father?” Dagon spat the word father like it was poison.
King exhaled like he was carrying the whole world’s weight before speaking to us all. “I’m an angel. I’m not human, but I have lived as one for a long time. I didn’t reveal this sooner because I wanted to protect you.”
My mind refused to comprehend what he was saying.
Even seeing the evidence with my own eyes wasn’t enough for my brain to comprehend the reality.
It was one of those moments when nothing can prepare you for, even with proof right in front of you.
When your mind just keeps screaming that it can't be real.
“Does this mean we’re not humans either?” Luc asked as he reached for Bren’s hand.
“No, you’re half human, half angel. You don’t have wings because of the human blood in you. Both of your mothers were humans.”
We were all suspended in disbelief. I knew this kind of denial very well.
It was your only coping mechanism when your world was crumbling apart or when you were facing something unimaginable.
Deep down, you knew it was true, but you kept refusing to accept it, denying it, seeking an escape, a way back to the way it used to be.
My eyes fell on my hands folded in my lap.
A surreal coldness swept through me. There was no use denying the reality, it only led to more pain down the road.
I had learned my lesson long ago, and I didn't plan on wasting another minute in denial.
I was sure there was more coming. That was why I found my voice and said, "Tell us everything. "