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Irony smiled at Halo. Perhaps her white, wolfish mother with the tearful, silver eyes had wished her youngest daughter to grow up with the intact soul of an angel. Halo was everything she suspected her mother would hate, but it was a decision she had made a long time ago after having been brainwashed by the con artist that turned out to not even be her biological father. If she hadn’t been stolen away, Halo would have grown up a wolf in her heart, and she suspected her personality would have been sculpted quite differently. She would have been everything she hated. She didn’t want to think about lost possibilities, for they would never be real.
It was true that her name was the same as the glorious circle above a celestial’s being’s head. But if she was an angel, then she was a fallen one with blackened wings, rustling with the hot breath from hell. She was a killer and a sinner, and thought she’d do a good job at representing everything that was wrong with this world. But she didn’t loathe herself. She was formed by the environment she had been born into, so it would be just as right to put blame on others. But Halo nodded at this child—could pretend she was a nice person with a pretty name. The child was too young to be able to think anything else. She didn’t know that the adult before her was a monster that could snap her neck within a heartbeat without feeling an ounce of regret.
”A moron is a dumb person like your brother,” the Lykoi hybrid lazily announced, wondering if that would make sense in the child’s ear. So moron wasn’t part of the girl’s vocabulary. ”You seem like a bright girl. Would you like to learn more words that you can tell your family?” the woman asked, voice dripping with honey and sugar. She didn’t see any point in harming a child without reason, but she didn’t mind corrupting it a little if it was responsive to it.
Your faith walks on broken glass
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