TWENTY THREE | ANGEL OF DEATH |

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"My mama says you're gonna change the world."

Fighting the urge to laugh in the face of a six-year-old, her mouth fixed into an indulgent smile as Rory placated the girl. "Just as you will one day, too, Giselle."

Sitting in the grass courtyard of the Den, blazing Louisiana sun tanning her brown skin while pack members milled about, Rory found herself surrounded by the few kids and teenagers in an assortment of blankets and books and toys. She was technically one of them as well, but she hadn't felt like a normal teenage girl in years. At least, none of them were really normal either; all belonging to the supernatural world without specifically being a part of the supernatural. It was nice to fit in again.

"She also says you're a real life angel!"

There was that finicky part of Rory's heritage. When Tom Aden first introduced the truth of her nephilim blood, it didn't come with any cosmic powers or an all-knowing sense like she's read about in fiction. No cool wings. But Stella had made it clear their kind was special for a reason, bringing Rory back from the Other Side where Genevieve and Davina failed to do so.

Vitalis healing is an advanced talent a nephilim may develop if trained properly, channeling one's own spirit to heal another's selflessly, bringing them from the brink of death to a picture of perfect health. Like many in her family, Stella was a naturally-gifted healer. There were other gifts the nephilim could develop, but most were much more subtle than vitalis healing. Other nephilim could be more inclined to precognition, energy manipulation, extrasensory perception, mediumship, and so on. Angel blood varied in how it manifested itself within every nephilim, but normally by the age of adulthood, any abnormal gifts made themselves known.

Stella presumed her girls' werewolf blood dominated their angel side, if not entirely subduing it. She hadn't been upset about it either. If the Reyes matriarch thought either granddaughter of hers was a suitable heiress to the family in Stella's former place—and fortune—Stella might have lost her daughters much sooner.

"Is it true?" Another kid popped his head out from the book he was reading. "You look like an angel, so it must be true!"

Their older brother sat near with a eye on his phone, not his siblings. He sighed at the two and shrugged at Rory apologetically. "He watched Revenge of the Sith yesterday, thinks he's Anakin Skywalker."

"It sure is true," her dad interjected, crouching near Giselle and her brothers. "All of it. Aurora is an angel and she's going to save our pack. The royal Labonairs have returned." He minced the children's words without any regard and undeniable manipulation.

Her father, a royal pain in the ass.

Rory cast him a sideways glare, before returning to smile at the kids.

Giselle's belief in her moved Rory. While she knew carrying the first tribrid into the world hadn't been her only tie to the supernatural world, hearing that people believed in her capabilities regardless brought tears to her eyes. That even if she had never fallen pregnant, in another universe maybe she would've helped the Crescent pack. And meet Klaus Mikaelson either way.

"Hey Rory, you got into LSU, right?"

She nodded. Her first class had invited her to join a Groupme with about a hundred other students preparing for the upcoming semester.

𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙 ° 𝘒𝘓𝘈𝘜𝘚 𝘔𝘐𝘒𝘈𝘌𝘓𝘚𝘖𝘕 Where stories live. Discover now