Page 27 of Fated to the Damned

But I’m not foolish enough to lose myself in the indulgence.

I reach my sparse personal quarters and close the door firmly, grateful for the moment of quiet. The small room holds only the bare necessities – a wooden table, a narrow bed, and a few belongings Lev procured for me.

Sitting atop the table are four letters, their wax seals identifying them as being from the above ground vrakken base commanders. I had reached out to them shortly after my arrival, especially knowing that Raziel initiated this movement above ground. I break the seals eagerly and unfurl the parchment, hungry for any positive news.

Raziel's elegant script holds no flowery pleasantries. He agrees to meet with me at this base. His letter outlines concerns that mirror my own – lack of fortifications at many bases, warriors more focused on leisure than training. It seems Raziel understands the precarious position we find ourselves in.

Soren's letter echoes the sentiment. He writes that his warriors grow restless in their outposts, and he recently visited Silas’s base, where there was some unrest with a purna in their camp. Soren states that he’s been helping increase training across his base and pushing Silas to do the same. My eyes devour his words hungrily.

The other two commanders have declined my summons. Nikolas and Silas tersely insist I should leave surface affairs be and return to the underground temples where I belong. They do not see me as a warrior, and I shouldn’t be up here with those ready to fight.

I almost snort at that last sentence as I recall how the “warriors” of this base have looked. I crumple their arrogant words in disgust and toss them aside.

Clearly Nikolas and Silas have grown too comfortable now that the Council isn’t overseeing their every move. The Council’s checks of the above ground bases have become lax, too, allowing such problems to occur. But Raziel and Soren recognize what must be done to reclaim our destiny.

There is one difference between our values, though… Both vrakken took human mates, something I’ve sworn to put an end to. While they might share my interest in improving this base now, I am certain they will bring their mates.

And there is one way that I know I will be able to garner more of their trust. I will need their help, and while I may not agree with their choices, I can’t undo what has been done. I might as well find allies in them, and once this base has been restored to order, I can address the High Priestess’s wishes.

Turning from my room, I stride down the hall and across the base. It doesn’t take long until I’m standing outside a small wooden door in the human quarters, steeling my nerves before knocking briskly.

This is a pragmatic decision, I remind myself. Personal feelings cannot be indulged.

After a long moment, the door creaks open. Jessa stands before me, her hazel eyes widening slightly in surprise, and I immediately drop her gaze.

It’s too hard for me to look at her and not feel overwhelmed. I’ve been haunted by the memories of what we did – regardless of what I might have said to her a week ago – and I have yet to reconcile those feelings with my purpose here. So instead, I’ve pushed her away and dove into work. It seems to have worked at putting distance between us, though. She looks guarded, her shoulders tensed.

"What do you want?" Jessa asks coolly. She makes no move to invite me inside.

I clear my throat, clasping my hands behind my back tightly to keep from fidgeting. "I have an important diplomatic matter to discuss."

Jessa raises one eyebrow, waiting. Holy First, she is beautiful. Just a simple movement has my mind spinning and I have to force myself to stare just over her shoulder to keep a clear head.

"I am meeting soon with two key vrakken commanders. They are mated with humans – or one human and one newly Made vrakken who was recently human." I take a slow breath, then continue. "I hoped you would attend with me, to help facilitate an arrangement and earn their trust."

Jessa studies me for a long moment, eyes unreadable. The silence stretches between us, and I fight to keep my mind clear. I end up staring at the wall, trying – and failing – to not inhale her scent too deeply.

By the time she finally breaks the silence, my nails are biting into my wrists as I clutch my hands together behind my back. I want to reach out to her, to taste her, and it’s taking every bit of will power to hold back.

She gives me a small nod. "Tell me when and where. I'll attend."

Her brisk acceptance surprises me. I expected more questions or resistance. But Jessa volunteers no further words, clearly eager for this exchange to end.

"Very well. I will have Alina inform you of the details later today."

An uncomfortable beat passes. Normally I would thank her sincerely, but such familiarity now seems inappropriate, even painful. Instead I simply nod respectfully and turn away, wings pinned back tightly.

As I walk off, I resist the urge to look back, to drink in one more glimpse of her. Focus, I remind myself harshly. This is not what you were sent here for.

I was actually sent here to stop it.

How did this get so fucked?

I stand at the open doors of the Council hall to greet Raziel and Soren as they arrive with their human mates in tow, Jessa waiting inside. Selene, Raziel's delicate and bubbly companion, offers me a wide grin. Evelyn, now a Made vrakken but originally human, stands beside Soren, her eyes analytical as she sizes me up.

I bow respectfully. "Welcome. Thank you all for agreeing to meet."

“We are eager to get started.” Clasping my forearm, the elder vrakken inclines his head. “Raziel.”