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He was plotting against him. Breath exhaled in a pale plume of smoke that lingered about his muzzle, he crouched close to the stone wall against which he’d been leaning. Crimson eyes narrowed and lip curled, sensing bloodlust on his tongue and hatred burning within his chest. No one dared speak to his mother in such a manner, and no one regarded him in such a pathetic, infuriating tone. Gabriel may have been built bigger than he was, blood flooded with extensive wolfen heritage, but Samael was no weakling.
He was larger than most coyotes, tall and lean with enough muscle to have kept him alive thus far. Brute force didn’t mean everything when backed by training from the moment he’d been weaned from his mother’s milk, and perhaps even before. He was a honed killer, drenched in blood and madness with heaven and hell standing behind him. Rising, he slunk from the shadows and headed out into the open to seek out his half-brother and his borrowed crown.
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War was a part of his blood. Gabriel had known murder at a young age, one born out of desperation. He had survived a drought, floods, fire. Without the ever present hand of his mother, Gabriel had learned through experience. That was what set him apart from the rest of his family. Even though he respected his mother, he had felt no qualm about speaking to Kaena the way he had. Once, a long time ago, she had done the same to him. Though he would never despise either of his parents, there were many times that he hated them both.
Gabriel sat, gargoyle like, atop one of the large boulders that dotted the Waste. He was completely still, save for the occasional movement of his fur, brushed here and there by the cold wind. The temperature had dropped considerably with the rain, and with each exhale a small burst of steam hung in the air. Over and over again he found himself drawing parallels to the brother buried on the shore (the one he had not thought of in what months) and the one lurking in the shadows. One ear turned back, but aside from this he did not move. Someone was approaching.
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His trail took him far out into the open and into the sparsely populated plains of the waste where his brother lurked. He was seated still as stone atop a bolder, with only the telltale exposure of his breath on the frigid air to reveal he was even alive. His ear turned toward Samael, showing he knew well he was approaching, but did little else to herald his arrival. Seating himself at a decent distance, he regarded his half-sibling through narrowed, bloodstained eyes.
“You might wear her crown, but she’s still your mother,” he stated simply, expressing Kaena’s eternal domination over her offspring. The child may overthrow or kill the parent, but Samael would never, ever wish to raise his head above the woman who’d created him. In his eyes, she was everything and he wouldn’t dare change the relationship birthed the day he’d arrived into the world. Slight variables may have been added over time, but Kaena would remain his lord and master just as the angel above.
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His voice was familiar, but it was not as he remembered it. Gabriel did not turn to regard his brother, knowing full and well what daggers were being shot into his back. He could feel them, clawing at his skull, demanding attention and hating what he was. For it was Gabriel, and not Samael, who had been chosen. None of his mother’s children had been given a purpose greater then that of his own. This was the only truth.
So, he had gone and upset the boy. Fine. “I am bound to her by my duties and nothing more,” he explained simply. “And she has her duty to me.” There was little love between the two, but Gabriel understood that what bound him to Kaena was blood. Her place in Inferni was under him, as she had chosen it to be the day she had walked away from her family.
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Samael loved Kaena most of all, and even now he remained the most loyal of her children. Gabriel may have inherited the clan she’d created and once held so proudly, but such ties meant little to the hell prince. He preferred to stand at her side wherever she may go, following her to the ends of the earth and obeying her every command. Molochai, her once favorite, had departed to landscapes unknown, dropping off the radar and pursuing his own whimsical endeavors. Gabriel held together the fraying fabrics of a clan that once meant so much, yet appeared as nothing more than a joke that’d outlived its glory to the monster. They were coyotes. They were destined to inherit the earth, riding it of all lupine scum by their own blood and fang. Not coincide with them, playing nice and keeping to their own devices while their numbers slowly dwindled into nothingness.
They should be collecting troops, strengthening their masses and destroying the disgusting bastards—every last one of them. Even Kaena’s bloodlust had died down, but Samael closed his eyes to such fancies. In his eyes, she was still the indomitable warrior queen, bathed in blood and the marks of those she’d murdered. Samael breathed bloodlust and death, seeing only decaying corpses and crawling, writhing insects when he dared close his eyes. Gabriel was a wolf, and thus an abomination. “She created this clan, and she created you. You should be bowing your head to her,” the prince stated coolly, vision narrowed and tone laced with thinly veiled, underlying venom. He didn’t see why she didn’t simply throw him down and resume her throne, but it wasn’t his place to question her antics nor her decisions. Kaena was always right, and that was that.
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Deep in his stomach, or below this, something heavy twisted and pulled. There was no physical reason for such a thing; he was not ill, and could not remember ever being in such a state. In his brother’s face he read a terrible story, one he had seen twice over now. For a moment, Samael was another boy. A boy who had died, laughing, died as his throat was torn out. Andrezej had deserved it. That boy was no longer a person to Gabriel, no longer an entity that had ever held an individuality. Gabriel’s amber eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on the horizon without really seeing it.
It was not until that demand came that he moved. Almost instantly the Aquila was on his feet. He turned and advanced in one motion, stopping only when he was close enough to feel Samael’s breath. Gabriel glared down at the darker coyote, his dark lips pulled back from his teeth. There was a viable warning in his posture—which screamed dominance, out of the realm of his father. Wolf or not, Gabriel had the scars to prove he had not simply come to fill in for his aging mother. “I bow my head to no beast,” he growled. “She abandoned us. I owe her nothing.”
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A quiet, dark laugh spilled from his lips as Gabriel lunged—the larger hybrid pausing only inches from his own muzzle. Bared fangs greeted his vision, threatening the lankier male with violence and bloodshed should he serve to displease him to just the right extent. Own lips parted, baring a smile that held neither love nor adoration for his elder sibling. Oh, he knew well that he was naïve when it came to Kaena and that Gabriel was suited enough to his task in leading the clan. Kaena had chosen him, and he’d never question her judgment. But none were loyal enough to give up power and fame for their dear mother as Samael would. He’d build himself a throne of broken bones, only to lay it at her feet should she only ask it of him.
“Honor thy father and thy mother, as the Lord thy God hath commanded thee—that thy days may be prolonged, and that it may go well with thee in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee,” he hissed between his teeth, lifting his head in defiance of his brother’s dominating demeanor. “Ye shall fear every man his mother and his father. The eye that mocketh at his father and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out and the young eagles shall eat it,” the prince continued, tone venomous. “Is that not what your God states in his holy book?”
Belief was a powerful thing. Ideals had destroyed nations and decimated countless populations. Samael’s angel had never been good enough for Gabriel, and that simple belief had set up the initial strife between the two brothers, stacking an indomitable brick wall between them that’d never be torn down in this lifetime. Samael knew his angel was not the same as the god his brother worshiped, but nonetheless his angel was just as beautiful and awe-inspiring, with eyes that spoke of eternity and jet black wings stained in the blood of thousands. They’d never quite see eye to eye when one believed he was the spawn of devils and the other thought he heard the voice of god within the confines of his consciousness.
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The moment Samael’s mouth opened, from the very first word, Gabriel knew what he would say. Deep in his chest that terrible growl continued, hating how the words sounding coming from a blasphemer. He hated how sick that tone was, and how vile the mockery in it stung. It was meant that the two would forever be at odds, as their names betrayed. In the end, the righteous would prevail and the wicked would be cast into fire forever, hallelujah, amen.
Two impulses ripped Gabriel asunder. One demanded violence, but he had taken that path before with the boy. He would not succeed with bloodshed alone. “Listen to me,” he said slowly, as if Samael was a child that did not understand. “You’re only here because she wants you. But that does not mean I don’t expect you to follow orders. If you fuck up, I’ll kill you.” His amber eyes were cold, clear, and held no trace of idle threats. As far as Gabriel was concerned, Samael was Kaena’s pet. There was no humanity in him.
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Once, long ago Gabriel had been the first between them to raise his hand and strike the other, drawing blood from blood. Samael had come to him, telling him what he’d seen and been permanently marked across his face by a blow from his elder sibling. As he loved his holy deity with utmost devotion, the lankier hellbeast adored his angel and every aspect of his ethereal being. The holiest, and most beautiful creature in all of creation until he’d fallen from grace, cast into the pit and void of eternity furthest from his father’s light. Poor, proud Lucifer, condemned until the end of time and beyond for his crime.
“You never did like me much,” the prince said in mock concern, as though honestly wounded by such a notion. Effeminate air permeated his demeanor, like a delicate butterfly easily crushed beneath words too harsh or cruel. Crimson eyes were dark, possessing fire and shadow that belied his fragile exterior. He would never disobey Kaena’s commands, and if she asked him to lie down and die he’d so with a smile on his face. If she asked him to cease all violence, remaining in the back of his den until the moment of his death he would willingly oblige.
Only the angel held greater adoration than his earthly mother.
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The rage in Gabriel’s eyes faltered and turned into vicious mockery. Even the snarl on his face twisted, pulling the corners of his lips up with dry, mirthless laughter. “You’re not so stupid,” he commended. None of his siblings (save Vitium perhaps) were. It took an incredibly foolish man to turn against his family for something as worthless as a wolf. Flicking one ear dismissively, the Aquila turned from his brother once more.
“We’re done here,” he explained, the low tone of a command in his rough voice. As he had with Kaena, Gabriel calmly began to walk away from his brother, finding no reason to further their conversation. He had nothing else to say.
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And there was nothing else to say between them. Samael glared at his brother’s retreating back—a silent snarl locked onto his narrow features. Coat gently bristling, he turned away as well, heading off into the wilderness. There was no love lost between them, for neither had adored the other at any point in their existence. He was not so foolish as to betray his blood for the likes of a wolf, for the Lykoi heritage he held above all others in this world, especially wolves.
Though he’d kill a member of his own family without the blink of an eye when given proper reason, they had all come from Kaena, and anything that held her blood was beautiful in a devastating way. Even Gabriel, with his tainted wolf’s blood and ideals that permanently contrasted Samael’s own, held a sort of admiration from the beast despite all initial hatred and discord.
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