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The Prophet visits me often, silently watching me sleep and eat,
"Deception and the Hold are the traits I have been blessed with.
My own scream drowns out Max's voice, making it impossible to stop what I have started. Repeatedly colliding my first with his face, his ability to move dies down. Crunch after crunch, bones break, swelling his face into an unrecognizable mess. Listening to the weak beat of his heart, its thud is consuming.
Startled, I try and look for some clarification in his black and white photo. It's the same Xavier from New Haven looking back at me, one with considerably less pain beneath his eyes. Looking over the photo repeatedly, I can't help but wonder why it feels like this is not my first time seeing it.
I need to know how far Forest's strength extends. I'd rather not trust the whispers of what your strength truly is and send you all with one less man who could have safeguarded all who travel. Your anger needs to be prominent for us to see what you can do… which is why Xavier will observe your training and shadow the mission.”
"I'm sorry, friends," Xavier whispers under his breath, expressing genuine sorrow.
"I made death bow on his knees and gave the angels a reason to fall.
"That Xavier and Fallan are not new acquaintances," the Shifter says, forcing us all to exchange a look. "That's not possible-" "Xavier wanted Forest, correct?" the Shifter questions, receiving a slow nod from the both of us. "What better person to bring her to him than the man whose family was just massacred by her supposed father?"
"Should I really lay out why you agreed to deliver Forest to me in the first place? You might have convinced her that you truly love her, that you always have, but we both know, had you gotten your way that night on the deck, you would have murdered her with no hesitation had you not seen Mason ready to pounce on you,"
The bloodshed used to scorn me, eating away at my every waking thought. Now, it's like paint, coating me in the glory of triumph.
The Prophet. Elyon Morgan.

