9. Athena

9

ATHENA

I polish the last of the tools, carefully arranging them by size in their leather wrap. The workshop's familiar scents of metal and herbs wrap around me as I work, finding comfort in the routine.

Behind me, the door hinges creak, and my breath catches as I turn. A xaphan woman fills the entrance, her dove-gray wings brushing the doorframe. She moves with a predator's grace despite a slight hesitation in her left leg - the kind of injury I've seen warriors carry. Her midnight hair falls in a sharp curtain past angular cheekbones, and violet eyes lock onto mine with unsettling intensity.

My fingers fumble with the cloth in my hands. She towers over me, radiating the kind of presence that makes my skin prickle. A warrior, without question - but there's something else about her, something in the way her mouth curves into a knowing smirk that speaks of secrets and sharp wit.

"Well, what do we have here?" Her voice carries an edge of amusement. "You must be the human Uriel's been keeping tucked away."

I straighten my spine, fighting the urge to step back as she prowls closer. Her wings flex, casting rippling shadows across the workshop floor. A wicked-looking dagger hangs at her hip, its jeweled hilt worn smooth from use.

"I'm Athena." I'm proud my voice doesn't waver. "And I'm not 'kept.' I'm organizing his supplies."

She laughs, a sound like steel striking steel. "Oh, you've got fire. I like that." She picks up one of my freshly polished blades, testing its edge with her thumb. "I'm Raven. And trust me - everyone in this city is kept by someone."

Her words give me pause, and I refuse to look away from those violet eyes. They remind me of poisonous flowers - beautiful, but deadly if you get too close.

Her eyes sweep around the room and then with a wicked smile, she tips her head toward the back of the workshop. I know there's two studies back there but I've never been. "Come with me."

Raven leads me through to the larger of Uriel's two studies, her wings brushing against tapestries with each graceful step. The room wraps us in dark wood and leather, shelves stretching toward the ceiling. A fire crackles in the hearth, casting dancing light across rows of ancient tomes.

"Sit." She gestures to a plush armchair. "You look like you need something stronger than tea, but we'll start there."

My lips twitch. "That obvious?"

"Please. Your shoulders are so tight they might snap." She pours amber liquid from an ornate pot, steam curling between us. "Here. It's spiced with bloodroot. Helps calm the nerves."

I wrap my fingers around the delicate cup, warmth seeping into my palms. "Bloodroot? Isn't that-"

"Poisonous if prepared wrong? Absolutely." Her violet eyes spark with mischief. "But I promise this batch won't kill you. Probably."

A surprised laugh escapes me. "You're terrible."

"So I've been told." She sprawls in the chair opposite mine, one leg draped over the armrest. Her wings settle against the leather, dove-gray feathers catching firelight. "Now, tell me how a human ended up playing in Uriel's workshop. That grumpy bastard usually can't stand anyone touching his things." Her eyes glitter like she knows the answer so I don't bother to give her my sob story.

I sip the tea - it tastes of cinnamon and something darker, earthy. "I organize better than he does. And I actually label things properly instead of just grunting and pointing."

Raven throws her head back and laughs, the sound rich and genuine. "Oh, I know exactly what grunt you mean. The one that sounds like an angry rono?"

"That's the one." I find myself grinning. "Yesterday he spent twenty minutes looking for a specific whetstone, muttering under his breath, only to find I'd put it exactly where it belonged - in the drawer clearly marked 'whetstones.'"

"Sounds like Uriel." She leans forward, midnight hair sliding over one shoulder. "Though I've never seen him let anyone else organize his precious workshop before. You must be special."

Heat creeps into my cheeks. "I'm just thorough."

"Mhmm." Her knowing smirk makes me squirm. "And I'm just a simple soldier who happens to collect rare weapons."

The tension in my shoulders eases the longer I sit with Raven. She's funny, and she doesn't treat me different for being human. Instead, she talks with me and we trade stories, her quick wit drawing me out of my shell. There's something freeing about talking to someone who doesn't treat me like I might break - who sees the fire beneath my careful exterior.

Suddenly, the study door bursts open with enough force to rattle the ancient tomes. Uriel fills the doorframe, his massive wings spread wide, nearly spanning the entire width. The firelight catches his perfect features, turning them sharp and dangerous. His golden curls are windswept, like he's been flying, and his jaw clenches when he spots me lounging in his chair.

"What exactly is happening here?" His voice carries the kind of authority that doesn't work on me - but I'm more amused by the way Raven reacts to it.

She shifts in her chair, a subtle roll of violet eyes that speaks volumes. Her wings rustle with barely contained amusement, and I have to press my lips together to keep from giggling at her irreverence.

"Oh, calm down." Raven's voice drips with sarcasm. "I haven't corrupted your precious little human. We're just having tea."

Uriel's golden eyes narrow, and the temperature in the room seems to drop. "In my private study."

"The chairs are more comfortable here." I surprise myself by speaking up, meeting his gaze steadily. Something about Raven's presence makes me braver, less willing to be cowed by his imposing stance.

His perfect features twist into something between a scowl and surprise. "Little demon's found her fangs, has she?"

"Someone has to stand up to your dramatics." The words slip out before I can stop them.

Raven barks out a laugh, and even Uriel's stern expression cracks slightly at the edges. He stalks closer, each step predatory, until he towers over my chair. The scent of citrus and metal surrounds me, familiar now after weeks in his workshop.

"Dramatics?" His voice drops lower, dangerous. But there's a glint in his golden eyes that wasn't there before - something almost like approval.

The air crackles between us as Uriel looms over my chair, but a shadow darker than night falls across the study floor, keeping me from answering. The temperature plummets, and my heart seizes as I look around him.

A figure fills the doorway, blocking out all light from the hall. His wings spread like a demon's nightmare - pitch black feathers that seem to absorb the firelight rather than reflect it. My heart pounds against my ribs as I take in his massive frame, broader even than Uriel's impressive build.

His face bears deep scars that cut across alabaster skin like canyons, telling stories of battles I dare not imagine. One eye gleams golden in the firelight, but the other - gods above - the other is completely black, like staring into an endless void. Dark red hair falls in waves to his shoulders, framing features that seem carved from stone.

My fingers grip the teacup so hard I fear it might shatter. He moves into the room with deadly grace that belies his size, each step deliberate as a predator stalking prey. The black wings brush against the ceiling, sending shadows dancing across the walls.

His mismatched eyes lock onto mine, and ice fills my veins. There's no warmth there, no hint of the humanity I sometimes glimpse in Uriel or Raven. Just cold calculation as he assesses me like a terrifying predator.

"Koros." Uriel's voice breaks the spell. "Didn't expect you until tomorrow."

Koros's gaze doesn't leave me as he responds, his voice deep as thunder rolling across mountains. "Plans changed." Two words, yet they carry enough weight to make the air heavy with unspoken meaning.

I press back into the chair, trying to make myself smaller under that penetrating stare. The scars on his face twist as his expression shifts into something unreadable, and I swear the shadows in the room grow deeper, as if responding to his presence.

Uriel only smirks. "You'll get used to him."

I'm not sure I will.