Caros — Classification: preter, sub—classification: blood drinker, governing body: Brethren
Faes and Faeries — Classification: preter, sub—classification: winged, governing body: The High Circle
formerly
Lyccans — Classification: preter, sub—classification: shifter, type: wolf, governing body: Lyccan Council
Panthera — Classification: preter, sub—classification: shifter, type: panther
Sceleri — Classification: preter, sub—classification: sin eater
Souris — Classification: preter, sub—classification: winged, type: mortal descendants of angels
Vampire — Classification: preter, sub—classification: blood drinker, origin: Caros that had taken human lives in exchange for immortality
Vidange — Classification: preter, sub—classification: winged, type: mortal descendants of angels who chose to turn their backs on God
Viver — Classification: human, sub—classification: mystical, governing body: Vatican
"Go home, mutants! Go the fuck home!"
A mixture of cheers and boos followed the angry chant, with the crowd unevenly divided between the paradoxically hostile minority and the worshipful, gawking majority. A small number went as far as attempting to get past the stoic—looking uniformed individuals forming an additional barricade in front of the hotel's steel gates, but as soon as they heard a wolf howl from close by, they backed away, blustering and cursing in a comical attempt to hide their cowardice.
It was obvious the humans thought they were listening to some Lyccan battlecry, but actually it was just the hotel pet, a red wolf trained to intimidate potential troublemakers with its howling.
The scenario was hilariously pathetic, and it would've been worth more than a few laughs...if only such a thing didn't happen every time L'Alliance had a publicized gathering.
The commotion continued for several more minutes, and throughout it, the Fournier twins watched quietly from the third—story balcony, their stances alert despite their dislike of the situation.
Similar to most of their kind, the Fourniers' distrust towards any other race but their own ran hard and deep, and the only reason they were here, suffering the presence of fools and traitors, was for duty's sake alone.
A small scuffle broke out at the edge of the crowd, but another howl from the hotel pet instantly quelled it.
"Wolverine's here," Aluin heard someone yell, and his distaste towards humans grew. Clearly, the hundreds of thousands of dollars that L'Alliance had spent on its awareness campaign was all for naught, with the way humans insisted on acting as if life now was a scene straight out of an X—Men movie.
L'Alliance had hired the most celebrated professionals of the human race to disseminate facts and get rid of fake news. They were not immortals like Edward and Bella. They did not require wands like Harry Potter. And they were not, for fuck's sake, mutants in any way, and Domenico Moretti sure as hell was no Charles fucking Xavier.
They had everyone from Nobel Prize winners to former war heroes to Olympian gold medalists speaking such truths over and over, and yet none of it had obviously made a difference, if the crowd outside the hotel was anything to go by.
"It's best to ignore them like we always do," Alain said in response to his brother's visible derision. "We've always thought humans were idiots. Now, they're simply proving us right." He glanced down one last time as he spoke, knowing but not really caring what others thought of their overzealous attention to security. It might seem overkill or even inappropriate, considering they now possessed the lofty—sounding title of defense ministers. But as far as the twins were concerned, Lysander's last command remained their most important responsibility.
Protect my bride at all costs.
But unfortunately for both of them, the princess made this an extremely difficult task, with the way she constantly insisted on exercising her independence———
Something's coming.
His guts had clenched hard for no reason, and Alain's head snapped back to the crowd, gaze narrowing as he scanned his surroundings. It was the usual, or rather the new norm: bigots and groupies, activists and fanatics — all present and accounted for, but...
Something was coming.
He could feel Aluin tensing similarly beside him and knew that his twin had sensed the same thing. The last time they felt like this, it was when vampires had razed their old realm to the ground, and they had been thousands of miles away — too damn far to be of any help.
"You feel it, too, don't you?" Aluin's voice was taut.
Alain gave his brother a clipped nod. "I'm trying to get a sense of it..."
"But it's different," Aluin finished for his twin. "Isn't it?"
"Yes."
They looked at each other.
Something was coming.
The hairs at the back of their necks suddenly shot up, their instincts roaring out a warning. Without another word, the twins began to run, hands reaching for their swords...just as all of the lights inside the hotel went out.
Something...was already here.
Estrella had always considered herself as the peaceful sort, someone who genuinely enjoyed being quiet and submissive. She had never been the type to blow a fuse like any of her short—tempered siblings, and she had certainly never been tempted to resort to physical violence.
But apparently, that was what politics could do.
It really did have the power to change people — or at least reveal one's true colors, and in her case, that was how all her years of etiquette training went up in smoke, the moment she was confronted by horrendously self—serving conscienceless sleazebags like Toby Riddick.
"What do you think, my dear?"
Did he really have to ask that? And if he insisted on having an answer, would kicking him in the nuts do? Would that be clear enough for him, or maybe she had to crush his balls with her bare hands, just for him to really, unequivocally understand what she thought?
"It's a good deal, isn't it?"
Estrella managed to lower her gaze in an act of demure hesitation, when in truth all she could still think about was planting a good solid kick to his nards. In the almost fifty minutes that Tony had condescendingly enumerated all the benefits that came with his marriage proposal, he had also managed to insult the Faes — her people — at every turn.
Weaklings, to have lost their land twice. No better than stateless immigrants now, scattered like dumb sheep. Need a strong hand, not like your missing husband.
Estrella closed her eyes. Remember, she told herself. Remember what you've sworn.
A rainy night, the twins knocking on the door to her family home, Aluin handing her Lysander's ring, and Alain pressing a torn piece of fabric to her hand, with the prince's note written in his blood.
Keep my kingdom safe for me.
I trust you.
