Not My Fairytale

Chapter 44

**Make sure you read the author's note at the end of the chapter for important information!**

A Plan

    Angelo emerged from the servant corridor, sauntering in with all of his usual cocky swagger, though I knew him well enough to recognize the anger burning in his eyes.

    His father spoke first, "I never took you for a fool, Angelo. You should have fled far away from here when you had the chance."

    He didn't acknowledge Ambrose's barbed words. His gaze never left mine, not even when three servants slipped into the room behind him– two men and a woman. They scurried past, joining the group huddled against the wall. The other Blood Fang seized on the distraction, and made his move. Our last remaining guard fell to the floor dead, a sword lodged halfway through his neck, severing his spine. The man propped his foot on the body to yank the weapon free before turning to stand behind Ambrose. Against the back wall, one of the maids began sobbing. When Angelo reached me, he crouched down, taking my chin into his hand to turn it this way and that, "Your face is covered in blood."

    "It's not mine."

    The corners of his lips tilted up in the ghost of a smile at that. Then his eyes fell on my arm and he gave a low sound of disapproval in his throat, "That is yours." I followed his gaze to the wound his father had just dealt me. It wept blood, showing no signs of healing. I stared, transfixed, for a moment longer.

    His father grunted in disgust. By the time I looked up, Angelo had already spun to face him again, leaving me staring at his back through the rips in his shirt.

    "What is it you hope to accomplish here, Angelo? Or is your only goal to spite me at every turn?"

    "My goal, father, should be quite obvious." He stooped to pick up a dagger discarded by one of the dead Blood Fangs at our feet. "I'm going to prevent you from harming anyone else in this room." I shot to my feet, raising my own blade. Angelo would not have to fight him alone.

    Those cold, hazel eyes fell on me for a moment, before returning to Angelo, "Don't tell me you're doing this for the princess. The half-blood." He spat the word as if it had a foul taste on his tongue.

    "She's my mate."

    Several gasps came from the wall behind me, but I paid them no mind. Ambrose only laughed in response, though it held none of the joy most parents expressed when hearing such a proclamation. "I had low expectations for you from the start, but to be mated to the enemy," he chuckled again, "that's worse than I could have imagined."

    "She is not my enemy," came Angelo's simple response, "she never has been."

    "Not your enemy?" His father scoffed, "She's half human."

    "The humans are not my enemy either."

    The humor left his father's voice, "Have you forgotten what they did to us? What humans did to your family? To your mother?"

    Angelo's back went more rigid still, "The humans who wronged our family are long dead, you've had your revenge. Those in this room have done you no harm. They had no quarrel with you at all until you went and killed their countrymen." Ambrose's eyes narrowed in irritation at Angelo's words but, after a moment, he added, "You could end this all right here, call off the fight and go back home. No more bloodshed."

    His father sneered, "You always were my greatest disappointment. Your mother made you too soft. This will all end, but not tonight, no matter what happens now." His eyes lit with a sudden fervor, "This is only the beginning."