Chapter 7
The room around me falls silent, and I let myself fully relax, as if the pains of my world have never been there. It's so natural to us that we have no hesitation or thought when we choose to transform into our true form.
As a hybrid, the age at which you unfold is unique to each person.
It's impossible to know when or where this will happen for the first time.
Everything depends on how much magic you inherited from your gifted parent.
Shaw was nearly fourteen when he first unfolded, surrounded by loved ones guiding him through the process.
I, however, was seven and completely alone.
I was terrified, but I allowed my body to do what felt so foreign yet natural at the time. My father had left for work that night, and I thank the higher powers often for being at home. From that date, I allowed my body to be in its true form as often as possible.
The power. The strength. I felt invincible and believed I could protect my father from anything—until I couldn’t.
My dad died alone.
I was late.
I wasn’t there when he was murdered. I didn’t protect him, and I regret it every single day.
My shoulders curve inward, and even though I feel my skin splitting like a piece of paper being torn down the middle, I feel no pain—only bliss—as the past year of being trapped in my human form fades away like I’m opening the door to something so wonderful, ancient, and pure.
The pressure builds in my back, and I can’t help but fall forward, bracing my hands against my bed.
My shoulder blades spread, creating space within my frame.
As I hold myself still, I feel my wings slowly expand from my body—as if they had been a part of me this entire time.
The heaviness of my wings is off-putting at first, but my body quickly adjusts to the extra weight resting on my back.
For so long, my wings have been folded within my own body, lost and begging to be free one day—like they could wait an eternity if needed. This freedom was taken from me—hidden beneath layers of time, sorrow, fear, and regret—but I won’t allow someone to chain me again.
Feather by feather, my white wings become larger, like a bright beam of sunlight shining around a pocket of darkness, casting away the shadows in my mind, body, and soul.
My entire system is relaxed, like a forgotten memory calling me home.
My past decisions—the terrible things I have done—vanish from my mind, leaving only space for peace.
This is real.
I am whole.
Movement in the mirror across the room catches my eye, and I look at myself, nearly gasping at the sight.
For so long, I’ve been covered in filth—disgusting by my own terms—but when I see my reflection, tears well in my eyes.
A halo of light surrounds my being, and I feel beautiful—so beautiful.
Not fully angel, and not entirely human either—a hybrid.
Yet in this moment, those terms don’t matter. I’m finally myself once more.
I stretch my wings to my sides and glance at the open window.
A breeze sweeps through my room, as if the sky is ready to welcome me back.
I can’t hide my growing smile, and with all my strength, I propel myself outside in one powerful swoop of my wings.
The sensation makes my entire stomach flip, and I laugh.
The wind tears at my face, and the sunlight is momentarily dazzling, as I propel myself higher into the sky—like a bullet of bright white light. As angels, we can go unnoticed in the sky, always using the sun or shadows to protect us from the humans below, our power keeping us out of sight.
The muscles in my back tingle from their first use in so long, but I ignore the burn and keep pushing higher and faster.
This is what bliss feels like. This is freedom, and it’s a feeling I never want to go without again.
Halcyon City looks like a concrete, metal, and glass maze below me.
I’m so high that the humans look like specks on the earth, but I don’t stop there.
The clouds vanish around me like puffs of smoke, and the colder air stings my nose as I climb.
I push again, going higher than ever, staring at the clouds below me. I can’t help but think about the High Elders and whether they look down upon us when we are in flight, as it draws us closer to them, yet keeps us below.
The city rushes below me in a metallic blur as I soar around towering buildings, letting my wings catch the wind.
Flying begins to feel more natural as I go, and I no longer fear crashing to the ground in a bloody mess as I watch myself flying past the glass windows of the buildings.
My body looks strong despite the time I've been locked away, and I feel like myself. My white hair trails behind me like my own personal cloud, and I scream into the open air, the sound echoing like thunder in the sky, and it’s euphoric.
I move outside the city and watch the tall buildings become smaller with each push into the countryside.
Trees replace the metal towers, and the vibrant colors of green leaves and golden fields send another wave of calm through my core.
Livestock live peacefully in the large fields, and humans are scarce, allowing me the freedom to drop lower.
I tuck my wings close to my body and dive like a speeding bullet.
The sudden drop feels like I’m floating, and the familiar sensation prompts another wild laugh to break from my chest. I’m flying close to the ground, letting the golden wheat tickle my fingertips, when I notice a clearing a few yards ahead, prompting me to slow my body.
I can’t afford to be sore ahead of the upcoming assessment, though I’ll likely have a tender back for weeks after.
My feet touch the soft ground, and I allow my large wings to drop to my sides before I double over to catch my breath and calm my pounding heart. My cheeks are chapped from the wind, and my freshly washed hair is a mess, but I don’t care. I haven’t felt this at peace in so long.
I turn in all directions, looking around, and notice a small, barely visible road leading to what seems like nowhere. The gravel has faded, and grass has grown across the road over time, creating an almost camouflaged effect in the surrounding wilderness.
I turn to face the road and fall backward, allowing my wings to break the fall like a feathery cushion as I look into the blue sky above.
Tall wheat stalks form golden shields around me, and exhaustion creeps up from the extreme exertion I just put my untrained body through.
My eyes feel heavy, and the breeze moves around me like a cool, calming blanket.
It’s serene—the simplicity of where I am sends a wave of calm through me that I didn’t create with magic.
It's genuine.
My eyes feel as heavy as the wings on my back, and I drift into the sweet nothingness of sleep.
The roar of engines ripping through the quiet countryside jolts me awake. I sit straight up from my tangled mess in the golden wheat. My sleep-filled eyes adjust to the orange glow of the setting sun as I look toward the nearly invisible road.
Three blacked-out Suburbans power forward over the grass-covered road, their large wheels kicking up dust and dirt. I narrow my eyes, but it’s impossible to see who is inside through the dark tint, though I have an idea.
Rumors circulate that the Ren Order—the angel peacemakers—live on the outskirts of town, tucked away in some serene and secretive place. With the news of the passing of the Elder’s wife, things have seemed off even in the short time that I’ve been back.
Three vehicles carrying the Elders could travel to the Ren Order to discuss business, yet I’ve never known them to interact with one another.
Living in distant harmony is what we’ve always heard.
They don’t mess with us, and we don’t mess with them—a balance between the angels and demons forced to live on this earth.
However, if the Grim Reaper decides to start taking out the Elders, that could cause concern among the groups.
I remain frozen until the cars have long passed, disappearing into a nearby patch of trees. I may be curious, but I’m not stupid enough to follow them. My presence may have been sensed even from this distance, so the best thing I can do now is get the fuck out of here.
I step toward the center of the small clearing and stretch my wings, shaking them slightly to dispel the remaining dirt and wheat that have intertwined in them during my sleep.
The setting sun shines over the field, making the stalks glimmer brighter than the sun above.
It’s beautiful, and I fight the urge to sit back down, allowing myself more time to truly be at peace.
I widen my stance, preparing to shoot into the sky when the air changes and a shadow forms around me like a rain cloud. My body goes rigid, and I duck down, tucking my wings in tight to make myself small and invisible. I carefully look to the sky, and a bead of sweat forms on my brow.
I should have known.
The Elders do not go anywhere without their sidekicks—angels and demons that guard them from harm or unwanted surprises. I was once Lowell’s. They fly overhead like threats in the sky, scoping the area for anyone who might be lurking to discover business that is not theirs to know.
They are searching for individuals like me.
However, I’m simply in the wrong place at the very wrong time. I tuck myself into the wheat stalks away from the clearing. The tall grain shields me once more, creating a wall between me and the open space of the field.