EPILOGUE

Deciding her destiny

Every single guest who had spent the previous evening at the birthday party of Enoch's first Princess would spend the following morning convalescing. Whether to nurse a hangover or rest up after a night of dancing, most had taken to their beds late enough to excuse sleeping past breakfast time.

The Morgan sisters were no exception to this rule.

Of the two, Alessandra had been the first to wake. At almost quarter past nine, she'd blinked open her sleep-ridden eyes into the dim sunlight that streaked through the slits in her bedroom window dressings.

Draining the glass of water on her nightstand would remedy how any of the alcohol she'd consumed might hinder her morning. The three glasses of wine had probably already left her system. She wasn't much of a drinker; her vice of choice was the cocoa kind. Chocolate in all its dark or milky lusciousness, she couldn't get enough of the stuff!

Fortunately, she had her father's genetics to thank that she didn't put on an ounce of weight. It was indeed a blessing, her sister Cassandra constantly reminded her of, considering her sugar-rich diet. If it wasn't chocolate, it was fruit.

That's what she craved for breakfast; juicy, sweet peaches and plump apricots smothered in yoghurt.

Clothed in a simple wrap-around day dress, she left her bedroom unceremoniously and strolled through the quiet Palace corridors to the kitchens. There was barely anyone about, and the litter of the previous night's festivities lay strewn about the place – the cleaning staff would get to it in due time.

On her way, she had passed Cassandra's room but felt that her sister was not there, which led her to wonder what poor devil's bed she'd ended up in the evening before.

The answer would have disturbed Alice more than her first assumption. No, Cassandra hadn't spent a night of passion with Adrianna Zumiez.

On the edge of the city limits was the industrial district. It was the last inhabited place one would pass before driving through Enoch's protective glamour and out into the desert.

The place was a rat run of small factories, fabrication and repair shops, and warehouses; on one such plot was a house. 'House' was a term one could only use loosely because, from the outside, it appeared to be a stack of precariously placed storage containers.

Architecturally it was striking in that grungy, modern arty sort of way, but inside it was lavish. The exterior was intentionally deceptive because the house was the home of one of Enoch's most elusive criminals. The kingpin of an organisation that kept Enoch's underbelly in a good supply of narcotics was the Russian Mob's heiress, Galina Dreisen. She was a woman that, for one bad reason after another, had become irremovable from Cassandra's life.

At almost ten am, Cassandra had peeled her naked body from the black satin sheets of a bed she immediately regretted being in. Damn it; she'd done it again. She'd ended up here! Head held in her hands she sat on the side of the mattress, recalling and piecing together her fractured memories from the night before.

Partying amongst the proper and pompous had lost its novelty and left her craving the kind of buzz that truly excited her.

She had called Chauncey - a lycan, best friend and Galina's right hand - to come and collect her from the Palace. He had, and together they'd come here. A small house party was already underway when they'd arrived. With Cassandra present, there was a feeling that all the gang were there.

By the pool, they'd sipped down Chauncey's cocktails into the early hours, until everyone settled down to sleep around dawn.

Inevitably, Cassandra had gone to bed with Galina.

Moments of memories flashed behind her eyes, tangled up in the stunning redhead's limbs, sipping down the opiate-laced fea concoction Fran had prepared earlier in the evening, transcending her body, feeling like her soul was mingling with Galina's as they kissed.

The booze, the drugs, the sex; they were all mind-blowing in the moment, but the come-down and withdrawal balanced the scale with how horrendous they made her feel.

Cass groaned into her palms, dragged her limp body from the bed and looked around for her clothes. It was time to split.

Simultaneously, Alice made her way back up to her bedroom with a brimming bowl of fruit and yoghurt cradled in her hands.

Sat alone on her balcony, she enjoyed her quiet breakfast and savoured her solitude.

Just like her sister, she couldn't get the memories of the night before out of her head. The thing that was on her mind was an obvious one considering the events of the evening before. There was no escaping it. Marriage.

To marry well was her duty as the first born and heir to the Enochian throne. So it was a wonder that she hadn't been able to answer his proposal straight away, considering she'd felt it coming for days prior. Still, the simple reply of 'yes' hadn't tumbled from her lips readily or as gleefully as all the storybooks prescribed it should have.

Fortunately for her, Samir had taken her delayed response as 'understandable nerves'. He realised the magnitude of his request, which was why he'd taken so much time preparing it. The timing was utterly perfect, and the scene was everything she'd dreamed of! Pity then that the man asking the question fell short for her in some way. This fact was torturing her.

Internally she was screaming! There's nothing wrong with him. Get a hold of yourself. Let yourself be happy!

Now, as she stared at the sea stretching toward the horizon from her balcony, she was riddled with uncomfortable thoughts. The waves seemed so smug in their serenity, lazily lapping the sand, ebbing peacefully to and from the shoreline. She craved to feel so calm and blissful because, in her heart, she knew she should have been spending her morning basking in such bliss. Pre-marital bliss! Perhaps she should have been waking up in the arms of her husband-to-be, sharing sleepy smiles and cosy snuggles in anticipation of their planned union.

But she wasn't.

Instead, she found herself bidding the picturesque coastal view a bitter goodbye in favour of sulking down in her temple of solace; Star Fall Temple.

Perched on a semi-circular pew, facing inward to the font, she stared at the blackened pit mulling over the events that had led to this turmoil. She cast back her mind, living through her memory to form a movie in her head.

She'd fled the Great Hall in search of some peace and quiet. She needed to steady the nerves her empathy had enflamed while feeding on the emotions of Warren and her mother during their chaos-inspiring stint. The passion and sexual tension had her reeling, her heart pounding, her ears ringing, and her palms sweaty and thighs tingling. She could remember that feeling perfectly because she'd never felt such soul-consuming desire flow from one person to another and back again with equal intensity. It only confirmed that that was what she craved above all else, regardless of how fickle that made her. A princess chasing after a fairytale love was as cliché as it got, but Alice had always known she was hopelessly romantic. She could have been happy for that trait to define her, but Samir was in the picture.

He'd found her. She heard his voice call out to her, "Hey, I've been looking everywhere for you, lovebird,"

Needlessly, she'd paused the moment she'd heard his voice and turned to find him rushing her way. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end in anticipation, but not out of excitement. She knew why he'd been looking for her, and it filled her with dread, and she hated herself for feeling that way. She was still hating herself for it.

"I'm glad you found me," She lied.

Now the morning after, she scowled, recalling how easily and often she lied to Samir. He was a good man, and he didn't deserve her deceptions. Somewhere inside herself, she cared about hurting his feelings, but sometimes lying saved him heartache.

He'd taken her hands into his; they were warm and should have calmed her, but her heart was still racing. Maybe he'd noticed and taken it to be a good sign. Maybe he thought he'd been the inspiration of her excited heartrate.

He'd suggested a walk, which they took until they found themselves alone in the moonlit flower garden. In the gravelled courtyard, by the trickling fountain and surrounded by the sultry scent of Kudu blooms, Samir had smiled at Alice with such heartfelt affection that she was swallowed whole by his strong emotions for a moment. Love was such a bittersweet emotion to feel through empathy when it was unrequited.

Guilt-ridden, she beheld his hopeful brown eyes. They caught the faintest beams of the night light, burned it up like a midnight sun, and smouldered. The reflection of the same moonlight shone off of his slicked black hair so that he glistened like a jewel in the middle of the desert sand - a rare and beauteous find. He was a stunning specimen of a man, and the brown skin beneath his ornately embroidered, black satin, Sherwani definitely wasn't as mysterious to Alice as the desert. No, she knew the landscape of his body well, and it was magnificently sculpted. A nephilim man in his prime, with solid wings, fit to cradle his desired lovebird, and that woman was Alice, who knew well that the man who stood before her was Enoch's most eligible bachelor. She was the envy of many noble women for being the apple of his eye and the focus of his affection.

"Alice," He broke their silence and uttered her name softly as if the breeze had whispered to her. "Do you remember the first time I told you I love you?"

"Sober or drunk?" She'd asked and giggled; his happy mood was as infectious as always.

He'd smiled back in adoration of her jovial smile, "Sober," he'd urged,

"At the Midnight Festival," Alice recalled easily. "You waited until the last candle had been blown out, and it was pitch black, you whispered into my ear,"

The Midnight Festival happened annually to commemorate when the first Enochian Nephilim lived below ground, cloaked in darkness so that they weren't found and slaughtered by the Angels hunting them. Each household would light a candle, ceremoniously blow it out at midnight, and live the rest of the night in pitch-blackness while feasting with their loved ones, holed up in their homes.

The first 'I love you', was quite a beautiful memory. They'd been around eighteen at the time, and to say that hormones and the thrills of pubescent discovery were at an all-time high was to understate how suddenly fascinated they'd become with each other. For the first time, Alice saw Samir as a man, and he saw her as a woman.

His smile beamed, over-joyed that she did remember his first confession.

"I've never changed my mind about that, Alice. I still love you. I always will. It's stronger than ever, and I want it to last forever." With her hands rested in his, he stroked over her knuckles, stared deeply into her eyes and proposed, as so, "Our love burns as bright as the stars do. Will you follow the light beside me? So together, our souls will forever be in orbit until we depart this plane and return to the stars? Alessandra, will you join your heart with mine by becoming my wife?"

Pulled from the reverie of her memory, Alice returned to the present. Sat alone in Star Fall Temple, she allowed her tears of anguish to fall freely down her cheeks. How she could have stalled answering such an eloquent proposal that perfectly suited the person it was asked of, in that it was poetic, played to her love of Celestial religious texts and romantic heart, she couldn't fathom. She felt truly hideous inside, yet, he hadn't seemed dejected. He accepted the three days grace she'd requested and walked her back to the Great Hall to dance away the rest of their evening. Perhaps he felt sure that she'd accept him. He was known to be quite arrogant, but never towards her.

If only an answer would come to her.

So, just as she had time and time again, she would ask for love to find her. Laying her hands onto her chest, looked down into the font, toward the realm of the Angel Lucifer, to pray. A sign that it was near would suffice, then she might know what to do and how to answer Samir.

"Thought I might find you here." A voice announced from the arched doorway of the Temple.

"Cass?"

"You praying again, huh?" Her sister asked rhetorically; Alice had assumed the position but now dropped her hands into her lap.

"Yes, there's nothing wrong in asking for a little direction."

Staring down into the font sceptically, Cassandra walked by it to take a seat beside her sister. "I figure the head you've got on your shoulders should be able to figure it out without asking Him. Gods know you're smart enough."

"Thank you."

"What're you praying for anyway?"

"That would be telling..." Alice said purposefully and playfully vague.

Cass shot her a 'that won't wash with me' look,

"I just want a sign." Out of the blue, Alice remembered something, "Oh, speaking of signs..." She snapped her fingers and then wagged her finger, "I forgot to get Crassus to sign off on an expenses form yesterday."

"You're thinking about work on your day off, and this early in the morning?" Cassandra grimaced.

"I won't be able to rest until I get it squared away. Might as well get it over and done with." Alice stood from the pew with purpose; she had a mission to complete before the rest of her day off could proceed.

"You're a real workaholic, y'know that? I don't think it's healthy."

"Come one, don't drag your heels. I know you find this place creepy. Are you coming with me or not?" On her way out, she paused to wait for Cassandra to join her.

She watched her sister's blurry eyes glare around the Temple, confirming her feelings about the place. "It's a Satanic Temple, and you don't find it creepy; that's what's creepy."

"Oh, don't get me started on how wrong you are about it being a Satanic place of worship." Alice rolled her eyes.

About to turn to follow Cassandra - who had eagerly rushed past her and out the only exit - she spotted something out the corner of her eye.

Stopped dead in her tracks, Alice homed in on the little wooden figure that sat on the plinth of the statue of Lucifer. Looking up into the glazed marble eyes of the Angel, she felt her heart tighten - anxiously, or hopefully, she wasn't sure.

Had her prayer been answered?

Was this her sign?

"Hey, Alice, you comin'?" Cassandra's voice pulled Alice back to reality.

"Yes! You go on ahead. I'll catch you up." She insisted, suddenly eager to be alone again.

Kneeling to pick up the carved figurine, she inspected its ordinariness, turning it in her fingers she recognised the visage.

In her mind, another memory played, back to when she was a child. She and Samir sat in the library studying together. They were listening to their tutor's endless historical readings. His favourite was to recite the scriptures written about their family's legendary forebears. Just as Alice could trace her heritage back to the First Fallen Angel, Lucifer, son of the morning, Samir's bloodline was begotten from Archangel Azrael, Angel of death.

Naturally, with the hollow wooden eyes of Azrael staring back at her from the face of the figure, Samir suddenly came to mind.

A choice was made at that moment, and however subconscious it might have been, it sent ripples through the ether.

Destiny had been decided.