Once upon a time, there lived a race of winged creatures. Their wings were every shade of the rainbow, and they could soar so high into the skies it was as if they could knock on heaven's doors. These creatures were known as Souri, and the first of them were angels sent to earth and made mortal. They lived quietly among themselves, deep in the forests and high in the mountains, so quietly they faded into myths and legends.

The innocent and the just, wise humans and loyal non—humans, all of them eventually forgot about the Souris' existence. But not the damned. Those with evil in their hearts circled their land day and night, waiting, skulking, knowing there would come a time they would have a chance to destroy and desecrate the Souris' idyllic existence.

One day, that moment came.

Jealousy had filled the heart of the King, for he thought his people loved the Queen more than him. Blinded by greed, he became vulnerable to the insidious whispers from the dark. Day by day, his angelic blood was poisoned by his own thoughts until there was no trace of humanity left in him. And so amidst beauty that only the gentle—hearted could create, the King turned into the first Vidange. Like the Souris, this new, soulless race was not immortal, possessing wings a thousand times more powerful than the largest and fiercest bird. But unlike the Souris, they were not heaven's children. They were from below, and forever they would dwell underneath the earth.

Half of the angels' offspring became Vidange, seduced by promises of power and wealth by the King. The other half remained loyal to the Queen, their hearts grieving for the loss of innocence in their land.

A battle then ensued, and no part of the earth was saved from it. Blood rained down from dueling warriors, fires razed fields that once bloomed with the rarest flowers, and dead bodies drifted among lakes that had turned crimson from azure.

Up in the tower, a young Prince was able to defend his beloved mother by killing his own sire. But alas, it was not the end of their cursed days. The King's first act as Vidange was to strike an unholy alliance with the soulless. Guided by his traitorous words, vampires and the sin eaters were able to find the chamber where three precious babes rested. They took all three, knowing one of these infant girls was the Queen's beloved daughter.

It was their hope that they could one day force the Queen's daughter to mate with the King's bastard son, a Vidange like him. Such an offspring would have great power, perhaps enough to rule the world.

But fate intervened. Tormented by his guilty conscience, a Souri who had not yet completely lost his soul and become Vidange sought atonement. At the cost of his life, he was able to escape the Vidange and hide the babies in the mortal world.

One of those babes was Calys.

When the Queen discovered her princess living among the panthers, she chose to love her daughter from afar, knowing that Calys' life was safer with the shifters. She had hoped that Calys, despite being known as The Human Monster, would be able to lead a life blessed with peace and happiness. But it was not to be.

Vampires had found their way into Calys' world, and sooner or later, they would know that she was no human monster. She was more, and when they realized who she was, they would come for her.

CALYS

It was the fifth day for the Panthera to gather, this time to hear the sides of both accuser and the accused. The room was vast and airy, large windows allowing rays of sunlight to turn the wood—paneled walls a darker shade of brown. The room was the largest in the inn, where locals and guests mingled for town festivities. But this morning was completely different, with one person's sentence the only thing to be celebrated.

Alejandro Moretti, werewolf prince, stood directly behind Calys Adelardi. Small, blonde, and blue—eyed, the princess he had sworn to protect remained calm and motionless in her seat. At first glance, she appeared innocent and vulnerable, but those who were aware of who and what she was knew better of course. She was not called "The Human Monster" for nothing, and today – if Raoul Adelardi was to have his way – she would soon be known as a murderess as well.

Thoughts of Calys' cousin had Alejandro reluctantly looking back at the younger man. He stood tall and proud at the center of the room, and it was clear by the look on his face that he loved being in the limelight. Raoul Adelardi loved it so much, Alejandro thought, that he probably wouldn't mind killing again and again if that was what it took to stay there.

"She is human." Raoul spat the last word out, a fairly predictable way to start his closing speech. The contemptuous look he threw at Calys was just as predictable, and Alejandro almost cracked his knuckles at the sight of it. If the others in the room were not shifters like him, able to hear a thousand times better than humans, he would have done so, just to let the little shit know Alejandro was this close to taking his life. On the spot. And to hell with the consequences.

"That alone should disqualify her as being heir to the alpha. It sickens me, thinking that a human, with not a single drop of panther blood in her, was made heir of our pack, one of the oldest and most respected of our race. Only out of respect for my beloved uncle did I not say a word, but now? After what happened?" Raoul furiously pointed at Calys. "It's clear for everyone to see that she's the one behind Pasquale Hernandez's death."

Raoul opened his mouth to speak again, no doubt to spout more lies, but one of the Panthera intruded, his voice reasonable as he asked, "And what is your evidence for such a claim?"

Raoul's gaze swung away from Calys. "The Lyccan behind her."

Alejandro stiffened.

"It is evident that she is in love with the wolf, and because of that, she's regretted her decision to marry Pasquale. Perhaps they've gotten into an argument. Or maybe Pasquale refused to let her go. We will never know what happened between them, but what we can be sure of is that she wanted him out of the way. If she can do that to her childhood friend, how are we to know that she would not do the same to her own adopted father———"

Calys burst out of her seat, and she would have rushed to Raoul if Alejandro hadn't already anticipated her move. He held her back just in time, and when he felt her trembling hard, he knew that she was extremely close to having one of her dark fits.

"Calm down," he said softly. "You and I both know it is not true. Most of all, your own father knows that is not true, and isn't that the only thing which should matter?"

But Calys continued to tremble in silent fury.

Damn, this was bad. There were times when Calys going berserk and kicking ass was damn helpful, but this was not one of those times. Changing tacks, he said, "A warrior does not let his emotions get the better of him."

A full second passed before Calys asked in a not—quite—Calys voice. "Is that from a movie?"

"Of course," Alejandro lied without hesitation. "I'm surprised you don't recognize it."

"I don't." Another second. "But you're right."

At the same time, Raoul sneered, "Do you see how they talk and whisper to each other like lovers? They dare be like that in front of you, the Panthera! They think no one's going to stand in their way to claim the pack's throne."

Alejandro's teeth gnashed, and unable to help it, he looked at the panther. He simply looked, and it was enough to have Raoul swallowing. "Do you see how he looks at me?" His voice was shrill with fear. "Do you see———"

Alejandro interrupted quietly, "What I see is a panther quaking in his boots and accusing another man of treason and murder simply because he didn't like being looked at a certain way."

Humiliation and rage had Raoul's features twisting into something ugly. "You will pay for that, dog," he snarled.

At the slur, Calys had stiffened again, but Alejandro only tightened his hold. "Let me fight my own battles, my princess," he murmured. "I wouldn't be much of a bodyguard if you fight mine for me."