Page 5

CHAPTER FIVE

CASSIEL

I reach terminal velocity, and my wings burn. It strips away my flowing white robes, leaving me naked, my skin on fire. I grunt as the earth rushes towards me in this dark realm that I’m plummeting towards. Why this one? Who knows? Luck of the draw?

The stench of burnt skin and feathers hit my nose, and I close my eyes as I slam into the ground, breaking every bone in my body.

As it turns out, I still have someone looking out for me, and my bones heal almost instantly, leaving me in a state of horror for all of a second before the pain eases and I roll onto my back to stare up at the night sky from the wrong side.

Blinking to clear my sight after the less-than-graceful descent from heaven, I rear back slightly when a face comes into view over the top of me .

“And who are you?” he asks, his black eyes boring lasers into my skull that feels like it’s stripping away all of my defences.

Getting to my feet in an instant, I stare at him as he straightens up. He is dressed all in black and looks like the Angel of Death. “Who are you ?” I ask back.

He raises his left eyebrow slightly at my attitude. “I asked you first.”

I snort, but fair enough. He did. “Cassiel,” I say, looking up at my former home. “Where am I?”

“Cassiel. Do you have a last name?”

I look at him again. “Angels don’t usually have last names, even fallen ones.” It burns on my tongue, but I knew it was coming. I didn’t fit in with heaven’s expectations. I fell woefully short with my questions, my probing, my research.

“Fallen angel,” the man murmurs. “How exciting. Well, Mr Cassiel. You have landed on my academy grounds. I’m Professor Blackridge, Headmaster of SilverGate Academy, and something tells me you were sent here for a reason.”

“Oh? Why is that then?”

“There are thousands of dimensions, with millions of other spots for you to have landed, and yet here you are, at my academy for gifted and slightly monstrous creatures.”

“Monstrous?” I repeat with a shudder, but it’s not altogether terrifying. Quite the opposite. I’m fascinated, and this is why I was removed from heaven after only twenty-one years of being an angel.

“How old are you?” Blackridge asks me.

“Twenty one,” I reply, looking around at the obsidian spires that claw the sky, the black granite walls gleaming like polished night. “This place feels ancient.”

“It is,” Blackridge confirms, a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes. “And now, it seems, it’s your new home. Unless you’d prefer to wander the wilderness naked and confused? This realm isn’t known for its safety.”

I glance down at myself, suddenly very aware of my lack of attire. My wings, now a scorched black instead of their former pristine white, twitch reflexively. “Not particularly.”

He snaps his fingers, and in an instant, I’m dressed in a tight black tee, black combat pants and black boots. Guess, I’ll fit right in. I pluck at the tight tee that is practically sculpted onto my body. It’s a far cry from the flowing robes of heaven. “Good. Then come. We’ll find you a room. And then we can discuss your enrolment.”

Enrolment? Just like that? No questions about why I fell, no judgement, just an offer of sanctuary, albeit a rather sinister-looking one. “You’re not concerned about a fallen angel just dropping into your lap?”

Blackridge smirks, a thin, chilling expression. “ Concerned? Mr Cassiel, I collect things far more concerning than a rebellious celestial. Besides,” his gaze sweeps over me again, lingering on my wings, “I have a feeling you’ll fit right in.” He turns, his black coat swirling around him like a shadow detaching itself and walks towards the imposing academy.

I hesitate for only a moment. What other choice do I have? Heaven has cast me out. This dark, strange place is all that’s left. With a deep breath that still tastes of ozone and burnt grace, I follow him. My black wings, heavy and unfamiliar, snap into my back, gone for now but not forgotten. Monstrous , he’d called it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this is where I truly belong.

As I stride behind him, trying to keep up, I feel a gaze on me.

Turning my head, I see someone looking at me from behind a scorched tree. He is one of the monsters Blackridge was talking about. His aura is dark with amber flecks that reflect oddly in the night.

He radiates an intensity that prickles my newly sensitised skin. A monster, no doubt. A powerful one. His eyes, even from this distance, pierce through the gloom, assessing, calculating. There’s a possessiveness in his stance, a territorial claim staked on the ground he stands on. He doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Blackridge, just watches me. My rebellious spark, the one that got me booted from the pearly gates, ignites. I meet his stare, holding it for a beat longer than polite, a silent challenge. A flicker of amusement crosses his face before his lips curve into a slow, dangerous smile. The kind that promises trouble.

Blackridge doesn’t look back and doesn’t seem to notice the silent standoff. “Keep up, Mr Cassiel. The night has many eyes here, and not all of them are friendly.”

Friendly is definitely not the vibe I’m getting from these surroundings. But then, I wasn’t exactly expecting a welcome wagon. I tear my gaze from the creature, a strange hum vibrating through me from the encounter. This place is already more interesting than heaven ever was. The air crackles with unseen energies, with secrets whispered on the wind that ruffles my singed blond hair. Apparently, I’m the newest exhibit in this monstrous academy. So what does that make me exactly? And why did heaven send me here? To teach me a lesson, probably, so I’ll come crawling back with my black feathers all droopy and sad to beg for forgiveness and a return to the Kingdom.

Fat fucking chance.

For the first time in my life, I have freedom—freedom to do whatever I want, ask whatever questions I want, and study whatever I want. I can turn against the very realm that brought me into this world if I choose to.

A shiver of exhilaration traces its way down my spine. This place, this SilverGate, hums with a raw, untamed power that heaven, for all its celestial glory, sorely lacked. Heaven was order, light, and a stifling, soul-crushing predictability. This… this is chaos, shadow, and the thrilling unknown.

We pass through colossal doors carved with ancient sigils that mean nothing to me, but I can’t wait to find out. They shimmer with a faint, dark light as I cross the threshold, acknowledging a new player in their midst. The entrance hall is vast and cathedral-like, but instead of stained glass depicting saints, there are shadowy alcoves and archways leading to God knows where. Floating orbs of a spectral blue illuminate the space, casting long, dancing shadows that writhe like living things on the polished black marble floor. Students, a diverse collection of beings with eyes that gleam with more than just reflected light, move through the hall, their conversations ceasing as they register Blackridge, then me, trailing in his wake like a freshly captured specimen. Their gazes linger, full of curiosity, apprehension, and in some, a predatory interest that makes the fine hairs on my arms stand on end. Good. Let them look. Let them wonder what new monster has been unleashed among them.

“Mr Cassiel will require a room in the Upper Class building,” Blackridge announces to a stern-faced woman with reptilian eyes who materialises from one of the shadowy alcoves. She gives me a look that could curdle blood, then nods curtly and slithers up the staircase. Upper Class? So, I’m not starting at the bottom of the monster pile. Interesting.

Blackridge leads me up the sweeping staircase that seems to coil upwards into infinity, following the reptile creature. The portraits on the walls are of beings with too many teeth, or not enough eyes, or wings made of shadow and bone. They watch me pass, their painted eyes following my every step. None of them look particularly angelic.

“Your fall,” Blackridge says, his voice echoing in the cavernous stairwell, “was it spectacular?”

I glance at him. Is he mocking me? “It was memorable.” Burnt feathers and broken bones tend to stick with you.

“Most falls are,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But few land so precisely. Destiny, perhaps? Or simply a cosmic joke. This academy thrives on both.”

He stops before a heavy, iron-banded door where the reptile is hovering almost excitedly. “This will be yours. Try not to set it on fire. The last occupant had a penchant for pyromania.” He offers another of those chilling smiles. “Do you have any powers, Mr Cassiel? Other than celestial radiance?”

Powers. I’ve never had any powers before, but that was in heaven. Who knows what an angel can do here? “I guess we will find out,” I say mildly.

He narrows his eyes, deciding whether I’m being coy or truthful. “Welcome, officially, to SilverGate, Mr Cassiel. May you find what you’re looking for.”

With that, he’s gone, melting back into the shadows as if he were born of them. I push the door open. The room is large, opulent, with a window overlooking the same courtyard where I’d seen the intense creature. He is still out there, staring up at the building on the opposite side.

My room is a study in Gothic luxury. Dark, carved wood, heavy velvet drapes the colour of dried blood, and a massive fireplace that roars to life as I step further inside. It’s a far cry from the ethereal, sterile beauty of the celestial realms. No shimmering gold or pristine white here. This place is steeped in shadow and secrets.

Find what you’re looking for.

What am I looking for? Freedom. Knowledge, the kind heaven deemed too dangerous. A place where being a little bit monstrous isn’t a death sentence, but a prerequisite.

Well, that one seems to be a given here. The air here is thick with potential, with the scent of old magic and new beginnings. My wings, still aching faintly from the fall and their transformation, feel strangely at home in the oppressive grandeur of this room.

Heaven was beautiful, but it was a gilded cage. SilverGate, for all its menace, feels liberating. I run a hand over the cool, dark wood of the desk. Blackridge said I’d fit right in. Perhaps he’s right. Maybe the monster was always there, just waiting for the right inferno to burn away the angelic facade. And this place? This place feels like it’s full of kindling.