Chapter 9
“So we get the sunfire ashrat and his dead-beat Papi,” Ellabeth grumbled. “Just wonderful. As if one Zamarien wasn’t enough.”
Farasee Kaelthos looked across the auditorium, finding me instantly. His eyes burned like the suns. Disgust curled his features, as he scowled at me from across the room. His eyes held a vile darkness that made me shiver.
Stars.
Zamarien hatred for Anathelles was unparalleled. I thought Tharic was bad. But his Papi…I looked away from the Farasee, but kept my chin lifted. I would not cower to Kaelthos Zamarien.
Farasee Kaelthos placed a strong, approving hand on Tharic’s shoulder, turning those fierce eyes from me to his son. He assessed Tharic like a prized pegasus.
“Faring well, my bibi—my son.” Kaelthos grinned. “And you thrashed around that bloodthorn Anathelle, too, I hear.”
“He thrashed around that whom?”
Granmanmi’s voice was a silent storm. She didn’t raise her voice.
But she never had to. The sheer command lacing every word made me shutter.
The Ascendants sucked in their breaths. Some angels visibly floated back from the Zamariens.
Kaelthos met Granmanmi’s gaze but didn’t repeat himself. Granmanmi Asarah wasn’t satisfied.
“Now Kaelthos,” she said, with such poise. Such class. “You’re not as much an imbecile as you are the size of a Winterwood bear. Are you?” She tilted her head, batting her lashes. “I’ll ask it again. This viper of a bibi thrashed around whom? Because I know you’re not speaking about my granfifi.”
Her voice was calm, tranquil even. But the message was clear.
She’d bathe this auditorium with his blood if he dishonored the Anathelle name.
As if our name didn’t hold more weight throughout the empyrean than Zamarien.
Kaelthos lifted his nose. His jawline twitched, but he kept quiet.
Granmanmi’s eyes churned like newborn stars.
“Do not ever refer to my granfifi with that filthy, whoring term again. Or I’ll remind you why Fallen Shadowlords have good reason to fear my name. Would you like your golden monkey to join in our next Blood Rite?”
Tharic lowered his head at that, his body shuddering. Kaelthos flinched. He first lowered his chin, then he bowed those shining eyes of his.
“Of course not, Farasee Asarah. The temple is…pleased to have your granfifi Ascend. You misunderstood my excitement.”
“I misunderstand nothing that takes place in this temple, Farasee. Dishonor my blood again, and your bibi will be shedding his.”
Farasee Kaelthos flexed his hands. A vein pulled taut in his neck, but he pressed his lips together, keeping them shut. Did I smile at Granmanmi putting those Zamarien rotpots in their place? Yes. Yes, I did.
“I know that’s right,” Ellabeth cheered below her breath.
She and I shimmied closer.
“Well, stars.” A male scooted in close. I turned and saw it was Daelun. He was grinning from ear to ear. “I know not to get on her bad side.” A wink down at me. “Or yours, either.”
“Same here,” said someone else from the right of us.
I looked past Daelun and grinned when I saw the familiar light green eyes.
“Omarion,” I breathed, relieved to see he made it. Without thinking, I slipped by Ellabeth and wrapped my arms around his waist for a hug. He was so much taller than me. But when he hugged back, I didn’t feel small. I felt safe.
Omarion smiled wide, his handsome face glowing without a single scratch. He looked completely refreshed. There wasn’t a scratch on him. Sifting clearly did wonders for him at least. Ellabeth looked between Omarion and I, eyebrows wiggling.
“You two know each other?”
I cut a glare her way. I knew that tone. That look.
Blue-eyed gossip.
I shook my head subtly. She pouted in disappointment.
“Not really,” I said out loud. “Omarion here saved me from being turned into Starfelliel grave food by his Highness of Blood Tharic.”
“Tharic came after you in the waterfall?” Daelun said, eyes widening.
“More than once.”
“What in all the stars…How could he focus on anything but breathing and getting through it?” Daelun shook his head. “Burning Zamariens.”
“Burning Zamariens,” Ellabeth and I chorused.
“Since you’re all going to keep talking, I’m just going to jump in and say hi.”
I turned my head. Next to Daelun was a stunning female, looking at me with jet black eyes and matching hair swaying in long strands down to her calves.
She bat her long lashes, her brow quirking up as she crossed her arms over a plump bosom and jutted out her curvy hip.
She was definitely going to turn heads in here.
“Hey,” I said, waving with a few starlit sparks at my fingertips. “Safah—”
“Anathelle. Fifi of Amaryss. Granfifi of Asarah. Great-Granfifi of Linora. I know. We all know.”
I flinched, crossing my own arms as I pulled away from Omarion.
“Well, since you know so much, who are you?”
The question was more direct than I meant it to be, but I didn’t care.
“Isandra,” she said, smiling. The curl to her lips made me nervous. “Isandra Marisol.”
My jaw dropped, all distrust evaporating.
“Marisol?” I gawked.
Isandra flinched back, looking between me and Ellabeth. Ellabeth was grinning wide like she was delivering the best surprise.
“Doesn’t your Papi own the Fruitatiya Cafe in the Feather Market?”
Isandra smiled sheepishly, but her black eyes burned with pride. “Yeah, he does.”
I shoved her playfully then gripped her arms. “Do you have any idea how obsessed my family and I are with your mangogos?” My eyes widened as Isandra busted out laughing. “I could live off of them until I died, I swear!”
Isandra laughed prettily, her high cheekbones only amplifying her beauty. “Glad to know we keep you full and happy.”
“The Fruitatiya heir?” I beamed at Ellabeth, eyes wide. She was ginning like a fool, too. She’d waited to introduce Isandra as a surprise and it worked.
The Marisols were legends in Port Emprarèl for their delicious fruit and juices. They also did fruit cakes that were simply addicting.
“Well, my family isn’t as exciting, but hi anyway.”
I looked and saw another female. She was shy, her eyes kept low, as she inched closer. She looked younger than us, though she had to be of age. We all were at least one thousand cycles, the age of maturing for angels.
“Oh?” I smiled her way hoping it would make her more comfortable. “And who are you? What family do you hail from?”
She bit her lip, looking around awkwardly.
Bless it. Poor thing was an extreme introvert. She seemed harmless enough. I could see why Ellabeth adopted her. And by the way she was now squeezing my hand, she wanted me to socially adopt the female, too.
“Amayah,” she said quietly. “Amayah Kamron.”
“You have the most stunning eyes, Amayah.”
She looked up at me, blinking her pretty blue eyes. Her cheeks flushed, her warm brown skin coloring, as she shook out her long, coily blonde hair.
“Thanks.” She bit her lip looking away, before looking back.
I smiled. I was scared of being too much for her. She looked ready to take flight any moment. I slid my gaze to Ellabeth. Her eyes spoke volumes. We had to keep Amayah close. She was gorgeous but quiet and looked like she scared easily. A prime target for beasts like Tharic.
I nodded. Ellabeth’s eyes widened with glee.
I found the last male of the group hanging a bit to the back, eyes disinterested.
I quickly took in the shoulder length, wavy black hair, lighter brown skin, honey eyes, and matching wings.
He was tall and muscular but still nimble.
Like a reed that belonged in the desert.
When his eyes slid to mine, I found myself wanting to sit with him alone, to listen to his story for a long time.
“Kazemir,” he said, without preamble. “Kazemir Nhanket.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut in.
“No family. They were all sent to the Seal Gate many cycles back. They’re all dead. I’m only here to taste Fallen blood.”
I nodded. “Fair. That’s fair.”
He nodded back and turned away. I think Kazemir and I would understand each other well. I went to open my mouth when another voice spoke out first.
“Wings high, Ascendants. Glad to see you’re the ones who lived.”