Tarnished Light: Disgraced Series, #1

By Carly Marino

Darkness lies in the most heavenly places.

Coy, daughter of an Angel and a Fallen, swore she'd never submit to her darkness. Not like she has a choice. She has a big fat apocalyptic prophecy stamped on her soul. If she fails to keep her death-craving, evil blood in check, she'll unleash a battle between Heaven and Hell. Alone in her struggle, she prowls the city streets, saving innocents and searching for a cure to change her fate.

When she loses control, the Nephilim drag her to their palace. Fearful for her life, Coy agrees to undergo demon-provoking tests to cleanse her blood. Her chances to escape seem slim. Until she meets Killian, who tempts her with his angelic looks and inner darkness. He offers a way out, but she'll have to embrace the evil inside. Once she invokes the demon, though, she may never return.

Due to mature content, this book is intended for an Upper Young Adult audience—teens seventeen and older. Please note: subsequent books in this series may edge on New Adult appropriate subject matter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carly Marino
• Release date: May 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393397366

Book preview

Chapter One

Coy

Two hours I’d spent in the cold, and not a Flesh-Eater in sight.

Usually, they found me around hour one.

I zipped my leather jacket closer to my chin, my fingers trembling. Restlessness consumed me, and my nerves stung beneath my skin. I shouldn’t have left the apartment. I wasn’t supposed to seek evil. I was supposed to avoid it. But I couldn’t help myself. The addict in me craved a fix and killing Flesh-Eaters solved that problem.

A neon sign flickered in a 24-hour diner window, bleeding fiery light onto the sidewalk. I scuffed my boot through the dancing orange and red colors, the salted pavement grinding beneath my sole. Inside the restaurant, servers bustled around carrying trays and scowls. I didn’t blame them. Drunk humans packed into mustard-yellow booths, hooting, hollering, and snapping.

None of them Flesh-Eaters.

Soon, humans would make their way home, and I hated involving them in my hunt. Why they wandered the city streets this late baffled me. Nothing good ever happened after 3:00 a.m. At least not in my world.

I stopped at the edge of the bridge between the Back Bay and Cambridge, staring at the bright lights that glowed on the Charles River. For the fifth time this week, I’d wandered a few too many miles from my apartment. Hair-raising sparks radiated across my chest, darkness burned and roiled in my gut, and a peculiar peacefulness followed. In this spot, I felt…loved. Like I belonged somewhere. I had no concerns about good and evil or finding a loophole in the prophecy which had led us to Boston in the first place. As usual, I hadn’t found a cure for my curse.

My pulse spiked. Something still taunted me to the other side of the bridge.

I’d never crossed. No point. MIT and Harvard had too many promising humans. Flesh-Eaters didn’t have a ton of smarts, but they knew well enough to leave intelligent humans to their masters.

The weird rope-like tug increased to an unbearable yank, and instinct told me to run the other way. Yet, there I stayed, wondering what beckoned me to Cambridge. Nothing good I imagined.

I gave the bridge one last look, catching sight of a guy standing halfway across. Dim street lights highlighted his silhouette and fire exploded in my belly. The nagging desire to get closer overpowered my restraint, the feeling either demonic or angelic.

Maybe that human was in trouble, and these sensations were a calling. Could the Angels be testing me? If I passed, would they cure me? Crazy. But possible. I had loitered there the last few nights. He could’ve been there too, building the courage to leap into the river. If I rescued him…

No. I saved humans from Flesh-Eaters. Not from themselves. Then again, if he died… I groaned. Halfway wouldn’t kill me, nor would this random human.

I picked up the pace as I neared the guy. Darkness awakened in my soul, nonthreatening, pleasureful and welcoming. Strange. I held tight to the good, refusing to let my inner demon consume me.

I couldn’t. Too much depended on it.

The guy’s elbows rested on the railing, and he stood just outside the light illuminating the walkway. Strong biceps and broad shoulders filled out his black leather jacket and fitted dark jeans defined everything else.

He turned, his attention fixating on me, and I could hardly breathe. Pathetic but I’d never seen a human this attractive. Ever. Casual and sexy, black as night hair grazed his eyebrows. Beneath full eyelashes, his irises glistened a vibrant sapphire.

I stopped, feet from him, my heart pounding. My internal sensations tossed into a mess of love, lust, anger, fear, and fury.

What the hell was I doing approaching a human while hunting Flesh-Eaters? I’d lure the blood and flesh-hungry creatures right to him. Damaging a face like his would be a shame to society and all the girls who swoon over guys like him. Not me, of course.

Hi, I said. You … uh … shouldn’t be out here alone.

His mouth slid into a flirtatious smirk. I’m not. You’re here.

Was that a pickup line or sarcasm? Yeah, well, not for long. I just wanted to… What? Warn him? The guy stood at least a foot taller than me, and his muscles… Pull it together. Was I that desperate for affection that I’d resorted to ogling a human? Even if he’d been twelve feet tall and six hundred pounds, a Flesh-Eater could still tear his eyes from his skull.

"What are you doing out this late? It’s dangerous for someone like you." He observed my face and twiddled with the ends of my blonde hair.

I jerked backward and laughed. Someone like me? I could hurl this human over my shoulders and have him begging me to save him from the icy Charles. Trust me. I can handle.

I’m sure you can. He eyed me but stayed quiet.

I should’ve taken his silence as a cue to leave, but instead I leaned beside him on the railing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d chatted with someone who didn’t know about my destiny. Plus, tonight had been a bust, anyway.

Cold wind rushed upward, stinging my nose. So what’s your story, random guy on the bridge? You’re not thinking about jumping … are you? ‘Cause I’ve never been the greatest swimmer.

If only it were that easy. He chuckled, the sound causing my pulse to slow. Unfortunately, I’m immortal.

I scoffed. Lucky you. If he really were immortal, my body would scream, Demon! Behead this hot guy. But my body didn’t respond that way, and I assumed the constant flutter in my chest came from either his gorgeous eyes or whatever had coaxed me to cross the bridge. I wouldn’t cave to either.

How about you? What’s your story? He arched a dark eyebrow. And if you jump, you’re on your own.

This guy’s confidence almost peaked mine. I’d play his game. Well, Mr. Immortal, I’m destined to end the world. Insert cheesy grin.

He smiled. Looks like we have something in common, random girl on a bridge.

Except, when the world ends, I’ll hopefully be dead. You, however… Yikes. All those demons biting you and the smell of sulfur. Living forever would suck during the apocalypse.

His hands balled into fists, and the muscles in his jaw twitched.

I shifted away from him. Guy couldn’t take a joke. If he hit me, he’d regret it.

Depends on what side you’re on. He exhaled, his dejection pinched in my chest as if the emotion came from me.

Great. He was one of those Lucifer cheerleaders. I’d run into a few, and they usually fell into the arms of a Flesh-Eater. What a waste. A human’s actions determined whether they got into Paradise. They weren’t destined to Heaven or Hell. They could choose. From this guy’s distant expression and the fact he hung out on a bridge in the middle of the night, my guess, he’d chosen poorly. You’ve got time, you know. To right wrongs.

Is that what you’re doing? He chuckled, his gaze steady on the shimmering city lights. Righting wrongs and all that? You don’t seem like the type. Well, aside from having the balls to approach a random stranger late at night. You realize the daggers hidden in your boot and jacket won’t do much good if you can’t use them.

I gaped. He either worked for the secret service or had some serious observation skills. I’ll have you know, I can slice an apple in half with my eyes closed. I patted the dagger tucked in a pocket sewn into my leather jacket, glaring. How did you know, anyway?

I’ve got good eyesight. The corner of his mouth pinched. You’d have to be fast to use those weapons. Especially if you’re planning on being a superhero.

Mocking tones and I didn’t go well together. I’m just trying to help, I snapped. Sorry if that sounds stupid to you. Why was I dumping my problems on him? Why was I still there?

The guy rotated toward me, his sapphire eyes intense, burning into mine. I stared at this stranger, who had no clue who I was or what my future held. Somehow, though, this human understood.

He arched down, inches from my face. Electricity zapped between our cheeks, and his breath warmed my skin, sending delicious shivers down my back. The cold drained from my bones, and red-hot desire consumed my blood. My demon-side livened, wanting release, and my angel-side settled, satiated. Weird.

All you can do is accept the world’s a shitty place. He slid back my hood. Especially, if you’re destined to end it.

A sourness flooded my tongue. He said it like he knew I was a lost cause, and I couldn’t listen to him a second longer. I might not save him, but plenty of people in this city needed help. I’ve got to go.

Fate calling you? He returned to his spot on the rail, snagging the air from my lungs. You could take the night off. I’ve got a down comforter in a cozy apartment on the other side. He motioned toward Cambridge. I’m a great snuggler.

Snuggling was the last thing on this guy’s agenda. Is that the best you’ve got? Hey, I guess people fall for that crap all the time. I’m sure a wicked smart girl is waiting to be swooped up by, I waved my hand, whatever you’ve got going on there. Nice meeting you, random guy on a bridge. Despite my need to hear his response, I couldn’t. If I stayed, I’d never leave, and my worry he’d jump was only part of it. I glanced at the river. You have a choice. Make the right one.

His gaze snagged mine, softening. Who are you? Really.

Just … a random girl on a bridge. I forced my feet to pivot and barreled back the way I came.

He called out, but I didn’t stop until I reached a tall building.

I needed height to get a read on where the Flesh-Eaters might hang out. Killing a few would erase my weird encounter with that guy. I hoped, anyway.

I climbed to the top of the building, leaping from window sill to window sill, and balanced on the icy ledge, pushing my senses to their limits. Sirens wailed a few blocks away, but they had nothing to do with Flesh-Eaters. I smelled the smoke. Heard the officers’ commands to douse the building and the gush of a fire hose that followed.

Just an arsonist, trying to make the Boston Herald.

I sighed. I didn’t want to go home, yet.

A taxi skidded to the curb, and I crouched as a couple in their mid-twenties stumbled out the door, laughing. After the man paid the driver, he cradled his girlfriend’s shoulders, and she snuggled into him. They swayed, clueless to the dangers skulking the city at night.

Must be nice.

Tingles crawled my spine, and a flaming sensation heated my arms. I exhaled. Seriously? Now?

I propelled myself off of the rooftop. My stomach flipped, and I landed in the dark alley. Broken glass cracked underfoot as I crept toward the sidewalk, trailing my hand along the cold, rough bricks. Thank the Angels Flesh-Eaters had lousy hearing.

I retrieved my blessed dagger from the cuff of my combat boot, and the familiar, smooth titanium hilt warmed my fingertips. Sanctified by the Angels and infused with holy water, blessed metal was the only way to kill a Flesh-Eater. Didn’t matter where I stuck the blade.

All that mattered was I didn’t miss.

I peeked around the corner at the couple who’d stopped. Awesome.

The man peered into the woman’s eyes, drew her closer, and kissed her. I wanted to turn away, give them some privacy, but I couldn’t unglue my gaze from the passionate way they kissed. His hands stroked her back and tugged on the ends of her red hair poking from her winter hat. She clasped his neck as if she never wanted to let him go.

My heart ached. I hated that I envied the couple and would’ve given anything for a love like theirs, one I’d never find. Most of my life I’d spent running from a stupid prophecy marking me the beginning of the end. Who’d date a girl destined to destroy everything righteous in the world? No one I’d want to bring home to meet daddy, anyway.

The couple broke from their embrace and strolled down the street, gloved fingers intertwined. I bit my lip, praying they would get to safety before the Flesh-Eaters emerged.

My inner darkness bubbled with excitement and clashed with the panic of my angelic light. Too late. I pressed my shoulders tight to the bricks. If the creatures noticed me first, I’d lose my upper hand, and a few seconds could make all the difference for this couple.

Wind gusts cut through the smells of motor oil and replaced the pungent odor with a disgusting stench of brimstone. Snow crunched with each footstep, streetlights zapped, and sparks lit the night sky as two Flesh-Eaters prowled from the shadows.

To humans, Flesh-Eaters appeared like them, but I could view their true form. Burnt skin melted from sallow bones. Their eyes flared ember-red, and they bared rows of sharp, jagged teeth. I shuddered. Even after years of hunting them, their grotesque faces still disgusted me.

If humans knew living a sinful life would turn them into these creatures, they’d probably reconsider their actions.

Fear etched the couple’s faces, and I didn’t blame them. Despite the glamor, the Flesh-Eaters’ shoulders hunched in their suit coats. Their stringy hair framed the jaws of a hungry beast.

Anonymity wasn’t their strong suit.

Pretty lady, one of the Flesh-Eaters jeered, gaining on the couple.

We’re not looking for trouble. The man glanced behind. We’re just heading home.

Could they be any more cliché?

With the Flesh-Eaters close behind them, the couple quickened their pace, and I readied myself. Flesh-Eaters acted on impulse, and timing was everything. If I moved too fast, the couple wouldn’t stand a chance. Too slow, and they’d suffer the same result.

My heart slammed against my ribcage as I waited for the Flesh-Eaters’ next move.

The boyfriend swung at the nearest Flesh-Eater but missed, and it smashed him to the ground. The boyfriend scooted backward until an iron fence blocked his escape.

He dug into his pocket and threw his wallet. This is all I have. Take it. Please, let her go.

The Flesh-Eaters ticked their heads from side to side as if contemplating his offer. The creatures had used coherent words, which meant they might have enough humanity left to release the couple. I’d yet to witness it happen, but a girl could hope. One human, I could easily save. Two was another story.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

One of the Flesh-Eaters snatched the woman’s arm.

Robbie! The woman’s high-pitched scream shot up my spine.

I charged from the alley. Don’t hurt them.

Before I could react, the Flesh-Eater dove at him, and its sharp, twisted fingernails tore through the man’s face, neck, and clothing. He wriggled. Muffled, choking sounds escaped his mouth, and his heels dug into the snow.

My demon side stirred, planting my feet, holding me back, and enjoying the Flesh-Eater’s vile dismantling of this man.

I struggled to free my legs.

No.

I gritted my teeth. I’m not evil.

Angelic light expanded from my core, freeing me, and conflicting emotions merged inside, preparing me to fight.

I could save him. I could…

Steam rose from beneath the Flesh-Eater in wisps as its saliva melted the man’s remains into the snowbank. An ash-colored indentation would soon be the only trace of him left behind.

Anguish sank my stomach. I’d failed.

The woman cried, floundering in the Flesh-Eater’s grasp. Help him. Please. Please, help him.

Her widened eyes met mine. Through crying streams of mascara, the woman’s innocence peered at me. The love and agony for her boyfriend sent pangs through my chest.

I took a deep breath to control my inner evil and sidled closer. Drop her, Flesh-Eater. I sounded straight out a bad superhero movie. But, hey, Flesh-Eaters responded to simplicity.

Crunching ceased from the Flesh-Eater hunched over the man’s remains, but the tortured soul didn’t rise from the snowbank. Keeping it in my peripheral, I focused on the Flesh-Eater holding the girl. Last chance to let her go.

The Flesh-Eater’s dripping black tongue licked the woman’s face, and its acidic slobber shriveled her skin as if a hot iron pressed on her cheek.

The woman shrieked, struggling.

It’ll be okay, I said. I’m here to help.

Whimpering, she nodded vigorously.

Who are you? the Flesh-Eater rasped, his fetid breath expelling the scent of rotten meat.

I’m Coy. The girl who’s going to kick your ass.

The Flesh-Eater cackled. I’ll rip you to shreds in one bite.

Oh, yeah? I stepped forward, my glare steadfast on the Flesh-Eater’s. I’m much tastier than her. I lowered my hood and glided my hand along my hip. Release the woman, and I’ll let you find out. A breeze brushed my long blonde hair over my shoulders. Although Flesh-Eaters couldn’t identify me as half-Angel, my heavenly scent aroused them.

It sniffed and shoved the woman. Her knees smacked the icy pavement, and her horrified face lingered on the place where her boyfriend had disappeared. She’d forever question what happened here, and no one would believe her story. No body, no crime.

A gagging-sob broke from her mouth, and she attempted to stand, but wavered. Robbie. No.

Her stunned gaze searched my face for direction. I’d seen the look many times. Confusion, despair, and terror.

Run, I yelled.

Without a second glance, she took off across the street.

Both Flesh-Eaters charged me. I ducked one’s razor-sharp claws, rotated, and slammed my foot into the other’s spine, causing it to slide backward and crash into a city mailbox. Okay. It’d be stunned for a while.

Keep focus.

The remaining Flesh-Eater turned, and I side-kicked, nailing it in the stomach. Its back smacked into a parked car, denting the hood and triggering the alarm. I jammed my dagger into its heart. Writhing and screaming, it dropped to the ground and erupted into orange and black flames. Scents of burnt carrion plagued the air.

I retrieved my blade from the embers and spun the warm hilt as I strode toward the remaining Flesh-Eater. I’m gonna enjoy sending your ass back to Hell.

A sinister snarl rose across its disfigured face, and adrenaline pumped through me. I loved the increased energy during a fight. Pure satisfaction. No thoughts, worries or concerns.

Just me.

It growled and lurched. I flung my dagger, and the blade struck between its eyes, bursting it into flames. Easy peasy.

I clicked my tongue. Enjoy Hell, buddy.

The fires extinguished, and the Flesh-Eaters returned to Hell. Remorse squeezed my chest at the thought of the man I didn’t save, and the hurt his girlfriend would endure. She’d carry the haunting truth, alone.

Streetlights cast yellow circles on the sidewalk, and a plow truck hummed past, pushing yesterday’s snow in berms on either side of the road. I inhaled, enjoying the crisp winter air and strolled toward my slum of a furnished apartment. Despite the squeaky bed and scratchy comforter, I’d sleep well tonight. And Heaven knows, I needed the rest. Maybe even dream about the guy on the bridge. It’d be a nice reprieve from getting eaten alive by Flesh-Eaters or burned by their masters.

The nape of my neck prickled with the feeling of someone watching me. My heart jolted, and I whipped around.

A man stood on the sidewalk, glaring. His wavy brown hair fell to his cheekbones, and his eyes were a pale blue. I narrowed mine, unsure what this human wanted from me.

Then, the hum sang like music from a harp. The man was Nephilim. My demonic side swayed with delight, praying for this man’s last breath. Bile rose to my tongue, tingeing my taste buds with repulsion at my reaction.

To confirm my suspicions, I drew on my gift of sight to view his invisible wings. The color of his feathers destined him to a side.

My supernatural blood awakened, and a pleasant warmth rose from my core. My heart eased to a steady thrum. The even beats shook my vision, bending and rippling the cityscape behind him. Like an artist sketching on a canvas, the outline of his wings materialized. With each detailed stroke, a new feather slid into place.

The color of his wings shimmered.

White.

His primary feathers spread and fluffed as if he prepared to attack. I dropped my head to the side. Why was this Nephilim ruffling his feathers at me? Only Fallen felt my presence. To this guy, I was just another human girl.

Calming my heartbeat, I turned to head home.

Teraphim!

My shoulders tensed.

His shoes scraped on the salted pavement. Using my enhanced strength, I jumped, grabbed a streetlight, and swung my feet. The heels of my boots collided with his chest. He soared backward and landed on a snowbank.

I ran around the corner into another dark alley where a chain-link fence hampered my escape. I could jump right over. Escape, and…

The Nephilim snatched my hair. Struggling from his grasp, I scrambled to my feet, and blonde strands tore from my scalp. I yelped, punched his face, and dodged his advance. Back off. I held up my hands. If you know I’m the Teraphim, you know I’m stronger and faster than you. Back. Off. I’m warning you.

I’m not afraid of you, creature. The Angels will give me strength. He growled, charged, and I flipped off the wall. His boot slammed into my side, fracturing my ribs, and I grunted. Fiery life force wrapped around my bones, mending the cracks and sealing the gashes.

I jabbed and connected with his face. Although Nephilim healed quicker than humans, they didn’t heal as fast as me. Exactly why I couldn’t fight at full capacity. If I did, I’d kill him and set the prophecy in motion, and I swore to my adoptive father I’d never let that happen. I swore to myself.

Nephilim would hunt me, lock me in a dungeon, and torture me. Captivity frightened me but killing a child of the Angels terrified me.

The Nephilim man launched another kick. Fight back, Teraphim.

I blocked. What do you want?

His lips curled into a sneer. I want what we all want. To exterminate you. He spat. An Angel-Fallen hybrid. You’re a disgrace.

My demonic-blood boiled, begging me to kill him. Breathe, Coy. Breathe. Control. Stay in control. Light over dark. The chant kept me grounded.

My only hope was to run. I had to get to my apartment to warn Demitria before the Nephilim turned us in. If we left now, we’d get a head start.

The Nephilim’s shoulder smashed into me, and I stumbled into the wall, cracking the brick. I shoved him, took off toward the sidewalk, and he chased me.

I sprang onto a nearby dumpster and gripped a fire escape ladder. I could climb to the rooftop and jump, buying myself a few minutes to run, but the man clutched my ankle. I kicked my feet, knocking him down, and scaled the ladder until my boots hit the roof.

My shoulders jerked with each footstep that banged the metal grates below.

Shit. I searched for a hasty escape. Jumping didn’t sound as promising if he trailed me.

He landed on the concrete. Nowhere to go.

I could fight him, knock him unconscious and run, but the closer he came, the hotter my Fallen-blood burned.

You want to fight me. He unsheathed a dagger from his belt.

Wide-eyed, I shook my head. My body trembled, liquid fire pumped to my fingertips, and my hands balled into fists. I had to get away.

"Nohazmii ohyahd orz."

A ripple of nausea swirled my sight. I’m sorry. I don’t speak creepy. I fumbled for the wall behind me, hopped onto the ledge, and stared at the empty street below. My thighs tensed, prepared to leap.

"Nohazmii ohyahd orz," he repeated.

I anchored to the spot.

Swarms of invisible bugs crawled over me, their tiny legs pinching my skin. I scratched at my neck and chest. The Nephilim’s face twisted, melting and dripping scarlet liquid from his eyes and nose.

What’s going on?

I blinked until his handsome Nephilim features returned. Breathe. His white wings rose behind him. The feathers flitted in the wind, and one by one, angelic plumes swirled to the Heavens.

Control. I inhaled and exhaled slowly. Contain the darkness. Control. Contain the—

Piercing static sliced through my mantra and threatened my restraint. Shrieks and growls ripped at my eardrums and tore at my soul. I clutched my ears. No! Warmth slithered up my chest, squeezing my rib cage, and constricting my breathing.

I stepped down.

He smiled, taunting me. "Nohazmii ohyahd orz, Teraphim."

Heat snaked to my eyes and darkness clouded my vision.

I dove at him.

I rubbed my eyelids to clear the haze. The veins in my temples throbbed, and dizziness rolled over me. My stomach churned, and my heart sped. The evil in me bubbled, satisfied, like a full belly after a meal, but the good side rocked with disgust.

The Nephilim lay mangled on the cement. His limbs bent in ways I never wanted to witness, and a dagger was plunged into his chest. Blood soaked his shirt and pooled around him.

No, I whispered. No, please, no.

I dropped to my knees and searched for his pulse.

I cried, pumping my hands on his chest. You can’t die! I pushed harder. Please.

The Nephilim’s pinions curled around him, embracing him in safety. Safety from me, from the darkness in my soul. Another sob burst from my mouth. His white feathers gleamed in the city lights, and he faded to Heaven from the snow-covered building.

I wobbled backward until my thighs met the ledge. Shivers climbed my spine as reality burned in my throat.

For eighteen years I trained to bury my darkness and fought the urge to kill a child of the light, a Nephilim. But despite my efforts, my Fallen-half had succeeded. I tangled my fingers in my hair, and salty tears dampened my lips. By killing him, I’d started a prophecy predicting Lucifer’s rising.

Now a Nephilim army would soon come for me.

Chapter Two

Coy

After I’d sprinted the three miles home, I paced the hall outside my apartment. The stained green carpet smelled of mildew, and the lights snapped and buzzed. Yesterday, I would’ve jumped at the opportunity to get out of this shit-hole, but not like this. A sob escaped my mouth.

How did that Nephilim find me? Had his Prime sent him to assassinate me? Demitria and I had been careful. We’d covered our tracks.

How had I let this happen? My limbs shook, and my heart raced. I killed a being with a soul. His maimed body filled my mind, and remorse clenched in my chest. I should’ve let him exterminate me. Tears dripped from my eyes. I might be half-Angel, but I also had evil bottled inside, waiting for its chance to explode. I bent, dry heaving and coughing. When my nausea passed, I rested my hands on my thighs and sucked in slow breaths.

Breathe.

Demitria shouldn’t see me like this. I wiped my tears, snuck inside, and crept into the bathroom, nudging the door closed. I leaned over the sink. Black eyeliner smeared around my gray eyes and trailed my cheeks. I tore off a piece of tissue, scrubbed my face, and then removed my hood to make sure blood didn’t stain my blonde hair.

A frigid draft swept through the strands, and my breath crystallized in clouds before me. What the—?

Ice-crystals climbed the corners of the mirror, fogging the surface, and shadows loomed over my head, swirling like the eye of a storm. I pressed on the glass. My palm heated, and the frost melted, revealing my confused face.

A jolt of pain stabbed my chest as a midnight hue darkened the side-part of my golden hair. The prophecy.

"When gold tarnishes to onyx, the Teraphim has chosen the side of darkness. Evil shall prevail if the child continues to breathe."

Hundreds of books were written about the prophecy. Speculations on how the Teraphim would lead the Fallen into a battle against the Angels. When my adoptive father shared the prediction with me, I refused to believe the words. But now, the truth was staring at me.

I ground my teeth and swallowed my disgust. This would not define me. I was not a monster. The tips of my fingernails bit into the palms of my hands. I growled and smashed my fist into the mirror, shattering my reflection. Ten angry images of myself glared back at me through the webbed glass.

Blood dripped from the jagged cuts covering my knuckles while the wounds healed. The streams of red faded to pink as they met the droplets from the leaky faucet.

I had to stay strong. Weakness and emotion would get us killed. Our lives depended on my confidence. Control. Light—

The bathroom door burst open, and Demitria stumbled inside. Coy, I heard a… She gasped. What happened?

I turned the knob to the sink, and the water cooled my skin. It doesn’t matter.

Demitria’s forehead wrinkled. Did you try to color your hair? Why? You know our enhanced healing ability rejects foreign toxins like tattoos and—

I didn’t color it, I snapped and dried my hands on