My soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to my skin as the fierce wind lashed against my face. Every movement in the air turned into a struggle against an invisible force pushing me back. As the crown prince, lord of darkness, I was supposed to appear majestic and invincible. Instead, I looked like a drenched stray dog thrown out into a storm. But that was precisely the point.
Taking shelter from the rain would have been beneath me. To blend in, I had to look like an ordinary man, burdened by the same troubles as everyone else. A borrowed face wasn’t enough—the one I often claimed belonged to a brown-haired man with a broad build and deep scars across his cheeks. I needed to appear convincingly mundane. I had to slip into the crowd where no one would recognize me.
It had been a long time since I’d last been here. Slobodnica had transformed into a sprawling lake. The rain-soaked streets were empty, the stone pathways covered in puddles that reflected the gray sky above. Four days of relentless rain had flooded the entire town, with water already rising to the doorsteps of homes.
I descended, the wind tearing at my wings, until my boots hit the wet pavement with a splash. Water shot up, immediately soaking my ankles. Without hesitation, I dismissed my black wings—I didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention.
Slobodnica was small. Compared to the grand city I called home, it felt like a forgotten village. Angels here lived simple lives, far removed from the wealth and comfort I was accustomed to. Stone houses with wooden shutters and the occasional thatched roof looked like something from another era.
This city was my brother’s territory. He was the one who usually kept watch over it, but in recent months, whispers of a growing cult had started to spread. Their mission was to exterminate incomplete angels—those who couldn’t summon their wings. According to my father’s law, such angels were rightful citizens. The cult was a mockery of his authority, and I had come here to show what happens to those who dare defy his rules.
The street curved to the left. In a narrow alley, I remembered a birthday I once celebrated here. Together with old friends, we drank every drop of alcohol, threw the women out, and forced them to earn money just to buy back our favor. The next day, we realized that if I didn’t have immunity, we would have ended up on the gallows long ago. I chuckled at the memory, though it didn’t seem as amusing as it once had. My youth was long gone.
Entering the inn, I descended the stairs into a room that smelled far too fragrant, accompanied by the sound of slow music. A pianist sat on a small stage, clumsily tapping the keys with zero talent. To the left was a large bar, and I headed toward it. Behind the counter, a blonde woman barely dressed in a scrap of fabric leaned over and smiled at me.
“I’ll take an unopened bottle of your most expensive liquor,” I snapped.
Her smile widened. “Nate! I’m so glad to see you! Are you here to celebrate something?” She leaned closer, placing a hand on my shoulder.
Nate. That was the name of the man whose face I wore. She clearly thought she knew me. I left her hand where it was, though my voice remained cold.
“I’m here on business. We’ll talk another time.”
Her smile faltered. As if sensing something, something in my aura made her step back two paces.
“I’ll get you your bottle,” she muttered.
I paid her no further attention. Instead, I walked toward a table in the corner of the room where three men were seated. One of them—loud and poorly dressed—was leaning far too close to a young girl. Her expression reminded me of Elisha. But my sister would never have let something like that happen. She would have grabbed a candlestick and driven it deep into his skull, casually remarking that he was “wasting our oxygen.”
To Elisha, the lives of others held no value. She believed it was her right to decide who would stop breathing and when. And though I never admitted it out loud, in many ways, I agreed with her. I, too, had the power to decide who lived and who didn’t, and I wasn’t afraid to use it.
Where are you? Damn it, where are you, Reilan? We had an agreement!
The voice pierced into my mind like the sharp point of a dagger, cutting through my mental barriers and filling it with unexpected intensity. It forced its way through a crack in the spiritual shield I had so carefully built, paralyzing me for a brief moment. A flood of foreign thoughts and emotions dragged me into another space.
Before me appeared a room that couldn’t have been more different from this grimy hole. Luxurious red curtains framed massive windows, while an antique table, polished and flawless, dominated the space. Behind it sat a man whose features were almost divinely perfect. Black hair fell into piercing, almost heavenly blue eyes. Every movement was calculated, every gesture elegant. He was the embodiment of eternal splendor, unmatched by any living being.
Let me go, Darlek! I’m coming!
His mind released me, and the world snapped back into its familiar, filthy chaos.
I staggered, grabbing onto the nearest young man for support. He looked at me in confusion, about to say something, but his gaze fell on my hand. He noticed how black it was. I’d slipped up—again, because of Darlek.
The young man jumped back, muttered something under his breath, and disappeared.
Only three beings could summon me so violently into their minds. Darlek and Elisha were two of them—my hated siblings. They could paralyze me even in the middle of battle, leaving some idiot the perfect chance to lop off my head.
I took a deep breath, focusing on every trace that might guide me further. My steps were nearly silent as I climbed the worn wooden stairs. The damp scent of decay, mixed with a faint hint of expensive, spiced perfume, told me I was close to my target.
I stopped by a wall, pressing myself against its cold surface. A hulking man descended the stairs ahead of me, his wings extended in an unnatural position. They were a painful reminder that not every angel had the gift of hiding their true nature and that some were forced to live with their wings stuck on their backs for their entire lives. Wings like those weren’t a gift but a curse, burning their bearer down to their very bones. Still, it was better than being one of those who couldn’t summon wings at all.
Silently, I moved toward the door from which I could hear coarse male laughter. Without hesitation, I pushed the handle and entered.
The scene that unfolded before me was as revolting as it was predictable. Two women stood there. One leapt back, fear flashing in her eyes, while the other simply laughed as if nothing had happened. The man in the center, naked and utterly shameless, shot me an irritated glare.
"Get out, you filth! I’ve paid for them for another hour!" he bellowed. Though his words carried weight, his nakedness and utter lack of dignity immediately robbed them of any effect.
I tilted my head to the side, a slow smile spreading across my lips. "Ladies, out," I said.
The aura surrounding me filled the room, pressing into every corner, forcing those present to submit. The women exchanged quick glances, their laughter dying in an instant, and without a word, they left the room. The slam of the door left an unnatural silence in its wake.
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I stood by the entrance as he reluctantly got up from the bed. His hands reached for a thin robe draped over the edge of the mattress, which he carelessly threw over his shoulders. The robe barely fit his bulky frame, revealing far more than it concealed. His lazy gestures were feeble attempts to maintain some semblance of dignity, but the growing embarrassment in his eyes betrayed him. Suddenly, he looked less confident and more like a man caught red-handed.
The atmosphere grew heavier, but I remained silent. I knew it unnerved him. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he spoke.
"You clearly don’t know who I am..." His voice was quieter now, though he tried to sound commanding. He picked up a dagger from the table and began tossing it between his hands. Was that supposed to intimidate me? "Daner sent you, didn’t he? Looking for some petty revenge? I don’t know how much he paid you, but I’ll pay you more—and cleanse your tarnished soul while I’m at it. I’m a purifier, a spreader of truth, and one of the kings of Terravorn."
His words were steeped in false confidence, as though he were trying to convince not only me but himself. He was exactly the kind of man whose pride always betrayed him.
I admired his naïve attempt to resolve things with words. But in what he said, he hit the nail on the head.
"Noxalora has no kings," I replied calmly. "There’s only one ruler—Sarlan."
"You need to live in the future," he sneered, his grin turning contemptuous. "The world has been stagnant for too long. It’s time for people like you to stop following the dark angels and stand against them. They don’t care about us. They see us as nothing more than disposable slaves. Together, we can stop them."
I slowly leaned back against the door, making sure no one could enter. This wasn’t one of those clever Terravorn men Nate had warned me about. This was just an ordinary fool, eager to puff himself up in front of anyone just to feel powerful for a fleeting moment.
"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" I asked, tilting my head slightly as if I were genuinely considering his words. "I’ll admit, I might even find it interesting. The dark ones have been in power for far too long. Perhaps it’s time someone took action against them, don’t you think?"
For a moment, doubt flickered across his face, but a shadow of interest flashed in his eyes.
I continued, “Do you already have concrete plans? Or is this just another futile attempt at rebellion, doomed to fall apart before it even begins?”
“First, I need to make sure you’re not incomplete. We only take those with the courage to change the regime—true angels,” he challenged me.
I took a step closer. A faint smile tugged at my lips as I effortlessly summoned my wings. Shadowy and darker than the blackest night, they unfurled with dramatic elegance behind me, but only for a brief moment—just long enough for him to see them. When I retracted them again, his lips trembled.
I didn’t have ordinary wings.
Fear flickered in his eyes.
“Even the immortal can die,” he stammered. “They have weaknesses. We’ll use them against them and fulfill the prophecy of the light.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed quietly. “The light prophecy? Weaknesses? So that’s the grand plan of the self-proclaimed kings of Terravorn?”
The man clenched his teeth, barking back at me, “It may just be the beginning, but it’s something. The dark ones have ruled this world for ages, and no one does anything about it. All it takes is a spark, and everything can change.”
I let out a loud sigh and averted my gaze. I wasn’t even sure why I had expected something more sophisticated or well-thought-out. They were all idiots anyway.
“I’m late to a birthday celebration because of this absolute nonsense...”
His hand, which had been idly tossing the dagger, froze. He began studying me again, his gaze sharpening as though he were trying to piece together a puzzle just out of his reach.
“Birthday?” he whispered.
“I’m celebrating my 878th birthday, in case you felt like offering me congratulations,” I added with a touch of irony in my voice.
The dagger slipped from his hand and landed on the carpet. He didn’t reach for it, leaving it where it had fallen. His eyes darted toward the window, but one of my shadows moved, blocking his escape. He wouldn’t be flying anywhere.
Slowly, I pushed off the door and stepped forward. My steps were small and deliberate, but the man instantly retreated—backing away until the table behind him stopped his movement.
I unclasped my cloak, letting it fall open to reveal my arms. They were black, adorned with shifting spirals of darkness. Living shadows emanated from them, weaving together in an intricate, restless dance.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I watched his clumsy attempts to mask his fear.
Magic slid off my body, revealing the truth I had kept hidden until now. I was no longer just an ordinary, brown-haired angel with scars. I stood there, untouched by mortality. The features of my face were nearly divine. Hair darker than the night framed eyes bluer than the clearest sky.
“The Dark Prince!” he whispered, his gaze darting between my eyes and my hands, as if struggling to comprehend what he was seeing.
“I… I didn’t mean it like that…” he stammered, his words spilling out in broken fragments, each one silenced by the fear tightening around his throat.
I looked at him with disdain. “I might have respected you more if you stood by your words. Wanting change isn’t wrong, but what’s pathetic is that you don’t mean it and instead force others to risk their lives.”
His face turned pale. He glanced at the slightly open window behind me, and for a moment, I felt his fleeting hope of escape. But that was naïve.
“I don’t like men who make empty promises and deliver nothing,” I said again, my voice laced with mild disgust.
“My prince…” he began, but I didn’t give him the chance to finish.
“The so-called light prophecy!” I roared, bursting into laughter. The man collapsed onto a chair, gripping its arms so tightly his knuckles turned white. “You idiot, I made it up myself to lure fools like you into thinking it was real! You’ve amused me. I never thought someone would base an entire plan to get rid of me on it.”
It was the pure truth. There were a few false prophecies that my father and I had unleashed into the world to test our subjects. In over 800 years, no one had ever taken one seriously enough to act on it.
“Luxana is dangerous to you, and you fear her so much that you imprisoned her. You know she could destroy you,” he said, regaining a fragment of courage.
“She is utterly devoted to the ruler. They have an agreement. She doesn’t want to be your savior, and she never will be. Light and darkness cannot fight each other because neither can win. The moment such a battle begins, the void consumes everything. That’s one of the reasons Luxana stays within her little kingdom, surrounded by her warriors, to keep ambitious men from reaching her.”
My shadows began to coil around him, testing him. The man had nowhere to run. There was nothing that could save him now. His angelic magic was no match for mine.
I knelt in front of him.
“And weakness? I have none, because I’ve been damn careful to ensure I never would. I don’t care about anything but myself. It doesn’t matter to me what you’d do to my family or anyone else. I’ve never formed an attachment strong enough for you to stop or blackmail me. That’s the difference between us. I was born for power, not for pathetic mortal pleasures.”
“You’re a liar. Everyone has weaknesses, and you’re no exception. Maybe you think you don’t, but you’ll see. One day, you’ll hit rock bottom, and you won’t rise again.”
“Perhaps. But today, you’ll either start talking about the other fools who believed in the light prophecy, or you’ll find out firsthand that toying with darkness is a thousand times worse than playing with fire.”
I leaned even closer and touched his face with my black hand. He was terrified. I didn’t even need to use my full power to frighten him. I knew he’d tell me what I wanted. Why make it harder on himself? Death awaited him. Why should he care about what happens to others when he’d no longer be alive to see it?
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy these games. The atmosphere in the room was terrifying, but I made it downright horrifying the moment I engulfed us in darkness so complete he couldn’t see a thing. Not even his first scream could be heard, as the magical barrier let no sound escape.
Me? Weakness? I had none.