-Back then, the Volturi had locked within the tower an angel. Their angel. He was perfect in every way, with hair a sandy blonde, eyes a shining, happy silver, skin a nice shade of beige with wings an abyss like black. He was their angel. And they ruined him for it. They killed their angel, ripped his wings so he couldn't fly away, took away his voice so he could never say he hated them for it. They were monsters to taint their angel like they have, but they couldn't see what they had done until it was too late. A body and a note was all that was left of the angel in the highest castle tower, and the vampires within the castle mourned for the light lost, and the Kings mourned for the loss of their mate.