Madeline finally understood why Beth and she spent less time with her maternal grandparents. And it wasn't because they didn't invite her and her sister to their place. But it was because her paternal grandparents had always monitored where she and Beth went. To be more specific, where she went so that she wouldn't cause more death.

"How could they tamper Beth's memory," Madeline whispered, her eyebrows furrowing, "What if they did the same with me?"

"Not possible," remarked Calhoun, "If I am not wrong, it is hard to play with an angel's memory. You are a heavenly being," he chuckled.

"Earlier you said you were a demon," Madeline had called Calhoun a devil several times in the past in her mind, but she had never thought that he would really turn out to be one.

Calhoun's eyes moved behind her, watching the empty corners, "What can I say, it is my grandfather's gift to me. Something that I discovered before my mother's death. Angel's receives their wings sooner than a demon does."

"Why do you think the bruises are showing up on my back if my wings have been burnt?" It was when she asked the question did she realize how much she missed the opportunity to have something that she didn't remember seeing.

"Isn't that obvious, silly," Calhoun moved his hand around her back and led her away from there. "Not everyone has the ability to regrow them back. Maybe for a normal angel and for a demon, it wouldn't work, but according to your grandparents," he paused for a second, "You are a dark angel and that itself gives an opportunity for a change in the body structure."

He then continued, "Your grandparents wouldn't have planned to come here and try to kill you again, if they thought you weren't going to turn back to who you are. The bruises are an indication of what you once had, where it is trying to regrow. Though I don't think they are big like the demon's have, the size of wings varies when it comes to each demon. The bigger the wings, the powerful the demon."

Madeline remembered it was from Calhoun's maternal grandfather, who was a vampire resting in the coffin from where Calhoun received his wings. Considering how the Wilmot's and the Hawthrone's family consisted of normal vampires, the genes that Calhoun possessed came from his grandfather. He was a demon.

"How do you exactly differentiate between vampires and demons?" asked Madeline.

"Just like how you differentiate between humans and angels: wings and no wings. Abilities and no abilities," came Calhoun's answer. "Let me show you something," and he led her through the corridors.

Madeline wondered where the others were. She looked around the castle and found only maids and the other servant's. After entering the gallery, Madeline wondered what they were doing here. She stood there looking at Calhoun, who walked towards one of the cupboards and pulled out a stack of parchments that was binded to form a book.

"What is this?"

Calhoun placed it on the table. The parchments looked old. The sides of it had curled.

"This is something I retrieved from my mother's belongings. People have the habit of snooping around a lot, wanting to know what the King does. Therefore, I placed it here in plain sight."

Opening the book, he said, "My mother was an artist. At least that is what she did back in the village. Though most demons turn to vampires, not all vampires are demons. Like angels, the term of demons has been lost, and they have turned to nothing less to mythical creatures," explained Calhoun, "Things that are rare always hold a certain intrigue. My mother drew some things in here."

Madeline looked at the drawings of demons who had horns, and some who had wings. "As you see in here, there are different sizes of wings. The one I mentioned earlier, of someone whose wings were torn, he had smaller ones."

"What do I do from here?" asked Madeline, wanting guidance from him.

"I have asked Raphael to visit the castle. If he's still in town, he will drop by for another reading or tea," replied Calhoun.

"One day my parents and the others will come to know on what happened with my grandparents. On how grandpa died," Madeline said, in a tone of worry.

"Then they should also know that you were only protecting yourself. Your grandmother has been placed one cell away from mine. I thought it would be good to keep distance between both of them," informed Calhoun, "She will die. You know that right?" he reminded her.

Calhoun might have been soft when it came to Madeline, but it was only because he wanted to win her over, win her heart and take it for himself. At the same time, it didn't mean he would treat the others in the same way. Anyone who would think about harming him and her, he would lay down the trap for them. One was already laid and set in motion. The question was, which one was going to take the first dive.

Madeline didn't respond to his words. Her grandfather had only ordered, and he was dead. But her grandmother was the one who had tried to kill her. She wondered how bad her luck was, or maybe it was good. When she and Calhoun had gone to visit her grandparents, it was before they left the house did she break the glass in front of them.

Would her grandparents have tried to kill her off if she had stayed there longer?

"They didn't do anything to me thinking I got better," Madeline murmured under her breath.

"Nothing is wrong with you to get better. You are who you are," stated Calhoun. "They must have thought that you turned dormant as it must be a decade since they last saw any sign."

"Do you think Raphael knows the difference between the dark and normal angel?" she asked him.

"We don't have to wait for him for that. Your grandmother is still there, cursing us," one side of Calhoun's lips pulled up, "I would have never guessed your grandparents would turn out that way."

She didn't know it either, thought Madeline to herself. It was like her life had turned upside down.

Madeline doubted her grandmother would speak to them willingly. Calhoun had killed her grandfather, and…

There were too many things going on around her. Madeline pulled the book closer and turned the parchments herself, to see the illustrations of creatures.

"It is a wonder how nobody caught her with it," commented Calhoun, "Things like these, doing something different in this world, is always frowned upon. But I think people were too focussed on her being the King's mistress and my father was too full of himself to notice it."

Madeline returned the book back to Calhoun.

"Who are the High House exactly?" questioned Madeline. She had never heard about them, and they were as good as non-existent until this point, "Grandfather was worried that the angel's existence would be put under threat if they found out."

"I believe he meant along the lines that they might feel all angels turn to dark angels. The destructive one's" corrected Calhoun. "The High House was formed by the approval's of the Kings, wanting their responsibilities to be lessened and create a better decorum in these lands where we live in. But as time passed, the High House started to exert more power, moving higher in position than the Kings."

"How often do they visit the castle or the Kingdoms?" Madeline asked curiously, her eyebrows drawn together.

"Once in every six months. They will be visiting early this time, before our wedding," replied Calhoun while he went to place the parchments back in the cupboard.

"To attend the wedding?"

"No, to meet me. My dear cousin has sent out a message for them to come and see what I am doing with the hostage situation. Not to forget his snooping in the dungeon."

Madeline turned more worried by this, "What do we do?"

Calhoun couldn't help but smile that Madeline used the term 'we' right now. "There's nothing to worry. I have got it under control."

Only time would tell, "What if I end up killing someone?" Madeline didn't know how it happened, but when her grandmother had come to kill her, her mere touch had led her grandmother to spew blood from her mouth.

She saw Calhoun offer her a smile, "If you kill someone, I will help you to hide the body." He then walked to where she was, coming to stand in front of her, "I am here now."

"Thank you, Calhoun," she thanked him.

The smile on his lips broadened, "Anytime."

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