Untouchable Darkness (The Dark Ones Saga 2)

And again.

They watched.

Stephanie screamed at them. And yet they watched. “Cassius! Do something, there’s women…” She choked out a sob. “Children are dying!”

“Children die every day.” I spoke in a soft whisper. “They see it every day, they’ve been watching for hundreds of years, what makes this day different?”

Stephanie covered her eyes as a child was tossed into the fire—alive.

Screaming she tried to run toward the men watching, but I held her back. It shattered my heart, to see her reaction, to know that the men could have done something—but that they couldn’t.

“Stephanie.” I licked my lips. “To act is to go against every cell in their body, every reason they were created. You have to understand, they were not made to feel, they were made to act.”

“Then why don’t they act!”

“Because they have not been told to… yet.”

More children screamed.

And then suddenly a light shone down on the two hundred men, flickering against their gold shields. Each shield held the design of a tree, but every tree was different, as if its origin came from a differing country or region.

The shields swiftly moved to the front of the men, and with a roar the two hundred descended upon the crowd of humans getting slaughtered.

It was over in thirty seconds.

Less than that.

The humans thanked the men, the same men who had watched them suffer for days, weeks, years, not knowing that this wasn’t some army marching through as they had claimed, but actual beings, created to watch over humanity.

My mother stumbled out of her hut, then fell to her knees in loud choking sobs.

The man, the same one who had flinched while watching, stopped in front of her then knelt down. “Woman, why do you cry?”

His voice was so hollow, as if he didn’t understand emotion.

“My son.” She choked out a long horrendous sob. “He was thrown in the fire…” Even through tears stained cheeks, blood caked to her fingers, and her hair matted, she was beautiful. The man sucked in a sharp breath, admiring her for the first time. “He was only a year, sir.”

“A year,” he repeated. “To be so new…” He shook his head. “I cannot comprehend such a short amount of time.”

“It wasn’t enough.” My mother hung her head. “I’ll mourn him forever.”

As an angelic being, the man could feel the woman’s sadness as if it was his own. He pulled off his helmet, set down his armor, and helped her to her feet.

It was his first mistake.

For without his armor.

He’d forgotten his purpose.

And when he touched her.

He closed his eyes. For the first time in his existence.

And when he opened them—her.

Only her.

And nothing else existed.