Page 50 of Angel of Ruin

Rahmiel's eyes light up, a cruel glint that makes my stomach turn. "Brilliant," he says, nodding approvingly. "I'll announce it to the arena immediately."

My blood boils as Rahmiel steps forward onto the glass platform that overlooks the arena, wings spread wide tocommand attention. The crowd's cheers die down as he raises his hands, preparing to crush Lyra's dreams with a few carefully chosen words.

Beside me, Raxis and Zephyr exchange knowing glances, chuckling quietly. Their laughter grates on my nerves, each snicker stoking the inferno of rage within me.

I clench my fists so tight I can feel my nails digging into my palms. Every fiber of my being screams to intervene, to stop this injustice. But I force myself to remain still, my face a mask of indifference even as my insides burn with a white hot heat enough to rival the stars.

Lyra stands below, her face beaming with pride and joy. She has no idea of the twist of fate about to befall her. I want to warn her, to shield her from the crushing disappointment that's coming. But I'm trapped, powerless to stop the wheels already in motion.

As Rahmiel opens his mouth to speak, I feel something inside me snap. The carefully constructed walls of duty and obedience crumble under the weight of my anger and newfound loyalty to Lyra.

Lyra is worth losing everything for. And I can't stand watching these bastards try to knock her down after she's done everything to please them.

Rahmiel raises his hands, his voice booming across the arena. "Thank you all for joining us to witness the culmination of the wing trials," he announces, his tone dripping with false sincerity.

My stomach drops as I see Lyra's face light up with hope and pride, a wide smile across her face. She has no idea what's coming.

"However," Rahmiel continues, his voice taking on a regretful tone that makes me want to rip his wings off, "it's unfortunate that we must reveal a crucial detail."

The arena goes silent. I swallow hard, wanting to step forward and put Rahmiel in his place. But he's my superior. And I'll lose more than my wings if I assault him in front of so many witnesses.

"Because Lyra didn't complete the trials in three distinct parts as originally intended," Rahmiel declares, his words like daggers to my ears, "this means that she cannot receive her wings."

A shocked murmur ripples through the crowd. I see confusion and disbelief wash over Lyra's face, her joy crumbling into devastation within the blink of an eye. I grimace, sympathizing with her grief.

The crowd's murmurs grow louder. Outrage and confusion mash together. Some bastards nod along with Rahmiel's words, raising their fists in the air in agreement. Even from up here, I catch snippets of the ensuing conversations.

"But she completed the trials!"

"How is that fair?"

"She did everything right!"

"I told you all! No human will ever win their wings!"

As the seconds tick by, the crowd grows even more agitated. The air crackles with tension, and I can feel the restlessness radiating off the spectators in waves. And Lyra, my little nexari, despite the obvious despair weighing down her shoulders, lifts her chin and stares directly at Rahmiel. The fire in her eyes catches me off guard completely. Even in the face of injustice, she still carries herself with immense authority.

I have never known a human quite as powerful as her.

I watch, barely breathing, as Lyra's voice rings out across the arena. Her words slice through the chaos of the crowd like a sharpened blade, silencing the murmurs in an instant.

"No!" she shouts, her blue eyes blazing with a defiance I've never seen in a human before. "I won't accept this injustice! I've earned my wings!"

The crowd falls eerily silent, every eye in the arena turning to the small human who dares to challenge the xaphan leaders. My heart pounds loudly against my ribcage. I'm amazed by what my little nexari is capable of, but I'm also terrified of the consequences she might face for her boldness.

After all, what's stopping these two from swooping down and killing her right where she stands? They're capable of it. I've seen similar things happen to disobedient humans before.

Rahmiel's face darkens, his purple eyes flashing dangerously. I tense, ready to intervene if necessary. I won't let them hurt her. I don't care if the whole of New Solas realizes my affection for her.

"I have given everything to these trials," Lyra continues, her voice strong and unwavering. "I've trained until my body ached and my mind was pushed to its limits. I've faced death and came out stronger. I've proven myself worthy!"

Murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd. I can't help but smirk at the shocked expressions on Rahmiel and Nisroc's faces. They clearly didn't expect this level of resistance. As a matter of fact, I don't think they've ever had anyone call them out on their shit before. It's almost comical, watching their pristine wings ruffle with indignation.

"You promised wings to those who completed the trials," Lyra says, her gaze fixed on the xaphan leaders. "I completed every challenge you set before me. I overcame every obstacle. And I won!" Her voice rings out, clear and strong, echoing my own thoughts. Damn, she's got more balls than half the xaphan I know.

The crowd erupts in cheers, their voices echoing off the arena walls. Lyra's words have struck a chord, and I can seethe uncertainty creeping into Rahmiel and Nisroc's eyes. It's a beautiful thing to witness—these arrogant bastards are finally realizing they might not be as untouchable as they thought. I cross my arms, enjoying the spectacle. This little nexari of mine is turning their whole world upside down, and I'm loving every fucking second of it.

"The trials were designed to test our physical endurance, mental strategy, and magical aptitude," Lyra says, her voice growing stronger with each word. "I've proven myself in all these areas. How can you deny me what I've rightfully earned?"

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