Page 25 of Claimed By Midnight

"Perhaps it's the blade that was faulty," Koros rumbles, his massive frame dwarfing the ornate dining chair. His wings, dark as pitch, twitch with barely contained amusement. "Or the alignment of the stars was... unfavorable."

Uriel's golden eyes narrow. "The stars?" His lip curls. "Since when do you believe in that nonsense?"

"I'm expanding my interests." Koros's mismatched eyes glitter as he reaches for the wine. "Very educational, astrology. I hear Neomia is out of alignment with Illyria."

Raven chokes on her drink, covering the sound with a cough that doesn't quite hide her laughter. Her midnight hair falls forward, shielding her face as her shoulders shake.

"Are you feeling unwell?" I ask her with exaggerated concern, pressing my hand to my chest. "Perhaps it's the... alignment of the stars affecting your health."

"You're all impossible." Uriel drops into his chair, wings folding tight against his back. "I don't know why I put up with any of you."

"Because we're delightful." Raven straightens, her violet eyes dancing. She shifts in her seat, and I catch the slight grimace as she adjusts her bad leg. "And because no one else will trade you celestial weapons at such reasonable rates."

"Reasonable?" Uriel scoffs, but the cruel edge of his smile softens slightly. "You're practically thieves, the lot of you."

Koros raises his glass in a mock toast. "To daylight thievery and faulty enchantments."

We clink our glasses together, three pairs of eyes meeting in silent conspiracy while Uriel mutters about finding new suppliers. The wine tastes sweeter for being stolen, and the warmth spreading through me has nothing to do with alcohol. For the first time since coming to this place, I feel like I belong - not despite my imperfections, but because of them.

14

URIEL

Ipush open the heavy workshop doors, the familiar scent of metal and magic greeting me. My latest masterpiece should be ready for collection tomorrow - a ceremonial blade commissioned by one of New Solas's praexa. Normally, I make these myself, but I left it to Raven to show Athena how to.

I find Athena hunched over a different workbench, her honey-blonde curls cascading over her shoulder as she focuses intently on what appears to be a simple dagger. The sight of her small form in my space sends an unexpected surge of... something through my chest.

But then I see it. My commission. The ceremonial blade lies twisted and warped on the main forge table, what should have been a crystalline edge now resembling melted glass. The runes pulse with sickly green light instead of the intended crimson. Dark energy crackles along its surface, eating away at the metal like acid.

"What the fuck happened here?" The words come out as a growl. The blade will need to be completely redone, which I can do, but Athena was supposed to be learning.

Athena lifts her head slowly, those golden-green eyes on me. "I don't know what you mean."

"Not that." I stride over to the ruined weapon, wings twitching with barely contained rage. "This." The blade actually hisses when I reach for it, the reversed enchantment rejecting my touch. "The runes are backwards. The whole fucking enchantment is backwards."

She purses her lips, taking it in like she didn't fucking do it. "I'm not sure."

I lean in close, towering over her smaller frame. "Then explain how this commission looks like it was dragged through the afterlife backwards?"

The fire in her eyes is so at odds with her natural sweetness - like summer flowers and smoke. It shouldn't please me, seeing a human so brave. But with her, it makes me want to fuck the defiance out of her. Especially when I think she did this shit on purpose since so many other runes have gone wrong at her hands.

And why? To torment me? To push me? Because if she wants to see me fucking mad, I'll show her what that will cost her.

"I don't know," she snaps, holding my gaze. Gods, she never backs down. "But I can help you fix it."

I bark out a harsh laugh. "Fix it? Little demon, this blade is beyond fixing. The enchantment has corrupted the core metal itself. I'll need a new one."

I stalk toward her, my wings spreading wide to block the workshop exits. Her small form backs up until she hits the workbench, tools clattering behind her. Her eyes flash but she clearly didn't expect this reaction from me. It's the first time she's backed down - even a little - and it stirs something primal in me.

"You have been fucking with me." My voice drops low, dangerous. "I know it."

"I-I'm not." Her chin lifts, defiant despite the tremor in her voice. "Why would I damage your work?"

I slam my palm against the bench beside her head, making her jump. She's bent backwards underneath me now. "Because you're tired of being the sweet, helpless little human. Because you want to prove yourself." My other hand grips her chin, forcing those golden-green eyes to meet mine. "Or maybe you just wanted my attention."

Her pulse races beneath my fingers. This close, I catch every detail - the slight flush creeping up her neck, the way her breath catches, those damnable innocent curls framing her face. She's everything I despise about humans wrapped in a package that makes my blood burn.

"That's ridiculous." But her voice wavers, betraying her.

---