House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1) novel Chapter 61

“There are rumours, he’s partial Angel,” One said.

Dukael whispered to the others who surrounded him, “We can’t just defy the laws, there’s a killer on the loose, if we break the laws we betray the Orderian oath we made to the Lightwatchers. The Advisors would order a massacre, they would send the Legions, and we would have no protection from them, they’re merciless, our parents won’t aid us in this, even if they wanted to.”He paused, when no one interrupted him, he suggested, “We should wait for Raphael.”

Liam yelled, his voice hoarse, but solid, as it echoed through the expansive room, “So now you’re all scared of half breeds, I thought you Angels- purebloods, what happened to be superior. The Tempters children you despise so much would never shy from a fight, much less from a pack of Legion half-bloods.”

Dukael marched up to Liam, his purple eyes cut with frustration, as he ran his fingers in his red hair, which was now short and spiked. Liam would’ve probably blocked this from a mile away, if he wished, and proceeded accordingly, which would mean brutal death, but he knew exactly what he was doing, and here in Asguard there was no better way to get answers because one thing was for sure, they hated ALL besides themselves.

He chimed, “Things could be much easier if you and the others just answer my questions Dukael.” Liam pointed out dryly, as he sat straight up, resuming the position he stayed in for the past few hours.

Dukael kicked his face again, no blood spilt from his mouth. The marvellous thing with Asguard was that there was never bloodshed on the holy land, it didn’t condone violence, so no matter how much it hurt, that was as far as it went. Except if one shielded a Harpien blade, which only a full pledge Angel could command and unfortunately that list didn’t include Asguardians who hadn’t earned their way to the Infinity yet.

Though, he did know of a few who were not bound by the laws of the Harpien blade.

Twenty minutes later Liam felt a headache come on, the spell he put on himself fading. Soon he wouldn’t be able to maintain this calm solitude, and if that happened, then so help them all.

“I don’t know anything about Franchesca, or the killings and if I did.” Dukael said proudly, as he boasted his bravery, “I still would never tell a filthy Caster,” he spat at Liam’s feet, instead of his face. The indecision saved Dukael his life by a hair's breadth because amongst the angelic breeds it was considered worse than swearing or name-calling to spit in one face, and if Dukael did, to Liam’s brother, Kole, it was an excellent excuse to kill Dukael.

Liam was not among those who cared about that which seemed so minor to end a life, but he had killed for less, much less, so he’d play along. He stared at Dukael, contemplating his next move, but stopped, to imagine his brother’s face, when he told him about this.

He kept his features emotionless as he was on the inside, the very thought made him cringe internally because as much as he wanted his princess, he might never be able to love her the way she needed. But he wasn’t letting her go either, she was his, whether he wanted her or not, and Kalbreal had better figure that out soon because he was coming to claim the Lightwatcher that belonged to him, right after he sorted out what had taken him away from her in the first place, or who.