“What’s wrong?” Abby’s concerned voice filters into the room.
I sit up and draw my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. She brightly smiles and perches herself at the foot of the bed, red strands of silky long hair falling dramatically over her slender shoulder as she studies me with a concerned expression.
I stare at her, unblinking.
My silence causes one perfectly shaped eyebrow to lift. “Eves?”
Unease shifts through me, and I pull my bottom lip into my mouth. “I can’t heal him.” I force the words out past the dryness in my throat.
She blinks slowly and her lips fall into an O shape. Her lashes lower while she pinches her angelic features.
“My mate mark is fading, and the bond is lessening. I can’t push healing energy into him, Abby. You warned me that if we waited too long to infuse the mark, this would happen. It’s happening. I can feel our bond slipping,” I explain. “Our souls are losing connection.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she exhales before waving me off. “We’ll fix it, I promise.” With an exuberant amount of energy, she hops off the bed and bounces around the room.
My gaze follows her while she searches around like a crazy person. A few seconds later, she claps giddily and grabs the first aid kit off the floor. Placing it on the dresser, she opens the lid and begins to wildly rummage through it, evidently on a mission.
“What’s going on, Abs?” I ask with curiosity at the swing in her behavior.
“Got it!” she exclaims, pulling out a syringe and stalking toward the bed.
I jump up quickly and step in front of her path with my palms out. “What are you doing?”
Abby rolls her eyes. “I’m going to extract Asher’s blood and infuse the mark. What does it look like I’m doing? Don’t get mad, but Kenna is right, you do ask a lot of obvious questions.”
Dumfounded by her statement, I just stand and stare at her before coming to my senses.
“Um, Abby, you can’t do this.”
“Why not?” she huffs, removing the plastic covering from the needle.
My brows shoot up to my forehead at the insanity. “Why not?” I repeat and look over my shoulder at Asher’s comatose state. “He isn’t even conscious to give his consent, Abby!”
“By the grace, sweetie.” She takes a step in my direction, needle facing upward in the air. “Clearly, he wants to be mated to you. Now, please move.”
“NO!” I shout. “I’m not going to permanently mate with Asher under duress.”
“You do realize you and he are starting to sound alike?” she remarks.
I exhale and drop my hands to my hips. “You don’t just take someone’s choice of life-partner away from them while they’re dead to the world,” I state. “Christ, Abby. How would I even explain that to him when he wakes up? Surprise, we’re official! Forget that you were passed out for the ceremony, but hey honey, I’m yours forever,” I shriek in a mocking way.
She pauses, wrinkling her nose. “I thought you wanted to be his forever?”
I stare at her. “I do. But not like this.” I motion to his limp form.
Abby watches me, pondering the conversation before she inhales, dropping her arm with the syringe. “Oh. My. God. It’s because you want a ceremony.” Her eyes light up. “In a forest, with candles . . . and flowers . . . and a pretty dress. Aw, Eves, you want it to be official.”
“What?” I whisper. The gargoyle has lost her damn mind.
“I get it. All right, we’ll wait for Sleeping Beauty to wake up,” she squeals perkily, before throwing a stern look my way. “Then we are having this mating ritual so this doesn’t happen again,” she adds. “I could feel the panic flowing through you. Was that what it was about? Not being his anymore?”
“Is this crazy, extreme swing in conversation a pregnancy thing?” I ask.
She tilts her head to the side. “Are you saying I’m acting like a wild pregnant person?”
I tense and my eyes fall to her hand, which is still clutching the needle. “How about you put the syringe down and then I’ll answer your question.”
She releases a light and airy laugh and returns the needle to the first aid kit. I sag back onto the side of the bed in relief. A few moments later, she joins me, and we both watch Asher sleep.
“Well, at least in this state, he isn’t brooding,” she mumbles.
The right side of my lips quirk and I cup his cheek. “Do you really think he’ll heal on his own from a wound this severe . . . without my help or stone state?”
“Absolutely. It will take a bit longer, but Ash is tough. He’ll pull through, Eves.”
I nod and face her again. “Don’t tell the others about the bond fading, okay?”
“Well,” she exhales. “It’s obvious Callan can’t keep a secret, so yeah, let’s keep this little gem to ourselves.”
After a few moments of silence my gaze falls to her stomach.
“I’m sorry McKenna had to be the one to save you after you hit your head. If we used my blood, we risked the possibility of you becoming bonded to the baby,” she explains.
My gaze meets hers. “I get it now, Abby. It’s fine. You’re going to make an amazing mother. I didn’t have the chance to say this last night, but I’m so happy for you.”
Her eyes dance with happiness. “He or she is lucky to have you for their aunt.”
A twinge of pain pierces my heart at the title. “What if the fading bond is a sign?”
Her brows pull together. “A sign of what?”
“Maybe it’s time to . . . let go.”
Chapter 11
Compromise of Truth
As the skies grow darker, the air becomes colder. The shoreline embraces the constant battering of the waves as they toss and turn before violently crashing onto the sand. I wrap my sweater tightly around my body and stare into the clear blue-gray water, watching the tides roll in before the currents sweep them back out again.
Asher’s image flickers in my mind, haunting me like a ghost. He’s been in his healing sleep for five days. Every hour that goes by, I feel as though I’m losing my grip on reality. My sanity is hanging on by a thread, as is the mate mark and our connection.
It feels like all we do is wait. Wait for the dark army to attack. Wait for Garrick to resurface. Wait for Deacon to be captured. And for every moment I wait, I’m reminded of my sacrifices, because the pain they’ve left in their wake beats away at my heart, like the constant battering of the ocean’s waves.
Michael takes a seat on the cool sand next to me, taking in the beauty of the ocean for a few moments before he speaks. “It is not safe for you to be here without a protector,” he points out with his old-world-divine accent.
My gaze slides to the archangel’s admonishing expression before I tilt my head over my shoulder, in the direction of Keegan. The gargoyle is perched a few feet away on a rock wall.
Michael nods his acknowledgment at Asher’s older brother and turns back to the water.
“You are sad,” he states quietly.
I don’t answer him. It’s becoming harder to recall a time when I truly felt anything but.
“Your protector will awaken,” he states, as if he’s demanding it of the world.
I exhale and keep my focus trained on the water, admiring its constant motion. I’m unsure how much time passes as we sit without a word between us. I notice the skies darken further.
“I feel like I’m slowly fading away,” I whisper the admission.
“We all get lost in the rain from time to time, Eve. It is part of what makes you human.”
“The old version of myself seems like a distant memory. This person I’ve become—I struggle with accepting her.” My eyes briefly flick to the angel, taking in his thoughtful facial features before returning back to the churning water. “Before, I would have fallen apart at the sight of Asher’s injured form. This Eve—she’s numb to the cruelty, violence and pain.”
“The moment one’s innocence is l
ost, it is never truly regained.” He sits back casually with his palms in the sand. “Once you’ve seen the darkness, it can never be unseen.”
My brows pull together. “There’s something you don’t see every day, an archangel paraphrasing John Milton’s Paradise Lost.”
A ghost of a smile plays at his lips. “Seemed a fitting parallel to your journey.”
I lift my gaze and meet Michael’s. “Everything I love seems to disappear, except the pain. There is always the pain. I miss being in the dark, unaware and naïve.”
Michael remains quiet for a moment, pondering my words. “Free will can often lead to a division of one’s sense of duty. A sentiment I am not unfamiliar with, Eve. It takes a great deal of courage and determination to step out of the darkness, into the consciousness of the light.”
“What if I’m not courageous? What if I’m just a girl who wants to be free from all this?”
“Your freedom comes with recognition of your place on this journey. If you reject your destiny, there will be disastrous consequences,” he states. “Justice lies behind actions.”
“If my freedom comes with a contingency, then I need you to help me understand how my fate plays into the balance of power, and what I need to sacrifice in order to end this.”
“What exactly are you asking of me, daughter of Heaven?” he asks with caution.
“Why am I the key to all of this?” I wave my hand around the beach, ocean, and sky.
Michael’s expression becomes tight as he sits up and lets his arms hang over his knees. The vein in his neck begins to pulse while he slides his gaze to Keegan, then back to the ocean in front of us. The silence lingers between us before he sighs heavily and dips his chin.
“You are to sacrifice love,” he states, using a divine tone.
“Love?” I repeat. “I don’t understand. How does love end the war?”
Michael’s face pinches. “It doesn’t. Lucifer wants one thing, to regain control over Heaven. The only way he can do that is with war. Your sacrifices will not end anything.”
I stare at the archangel for a moment in shock, and a sinking feeling buries its way into my stomach. Suddenly, my conversation with Asmodeus at the Midnight Temple resurfaces.
“Somehow you’ve been misled to believe that you are more significant to our kind than your mundane life actually is.”
“If that’s true, then why is the dark army hunting me so persistently?” I question.
The demon shifts in his chair and shrugs. “Don’t be fooled, daughter of Heaven. Your existence is of no consequence to my boss. Your creation is simply one more hypercritical stab in the back. Obtaining you, and ending your life, is a statement. A show of declaration.”
“What does Lucifer want then?” Gage asks from my left.
“War,” Asmodeus replies harshly.
My eyes shift to Gage and then back to the demon. “Attaining me is an end to the war.”
“Wrong,” the demon barks. “Securing you is a strategy.”
My nostrils flare as I attempt to pull air into my lungs in order to calm my anger. “You have got to be kidding me. When I first met Asher, he told me the Angelic Council, in an attempt to save Heaven in the event of a war with Hell, allowed a redeemer, me. The council believes this liberator will save mankind, allowing Heaven to prevail in the war.”
Understanding crosses his expression. “Yes, that is the truth that was presented to you.”
“The truth tha—” I stop, forcing myself not to strangle the angel.
“Are you saying that Asher lied to me? That you lied to me?”
“As part of your protection, I do believe we are all guilty of compromising the truth, Eve.”
“Un. Fucking. Real,” I exhale.
Michael throws me a sharp glance. “Information is provided to you, at my direction, which I feel is important to impart to you at certain times. This is done for your protection. Mr. St. Michael was given that information by me to, in turn, provide to you.”
I just stare at the divine being with parted lips. “Is my life some sort of game to you?”
Michael sits straighter, as if insulted. “I do not understand your question.”
“Do you feel anything for me that resembles a father’s love for his child? Or am I just some human pawn whose life you enjoy toying with?” I seethe in hurt.
As each of my words sinks in, his jade gaze fills with regret. “Do not misinterpret what I am saying to you. You were created out of my love for Libby. I am a divine warrior. My capacity to bond with you on an emotional human level is limited. I understand that may seem hypocritical to you since my love for your mother is abundant, however, my protection is what I can offer you as a fatherly duty and show of affection. The rest will have to come with time. I will learn to connect with your human sentiments. I ask that you be patient.”
Crap. What do you say to that? “If I’m not meant to end the war, then why am I the key?” I change the subject as an attempt to push off my conflicting feelings of rejection and love.
“After your creation, your security was designed as a protective measure for Heaven. Not a means to end our long-standing war, but to stop it,” he replies. “You and Asher, together.”
At the sound of Asher’s name, my irritation recedes. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“When we discovered Libby was with child, our first thought was of your protection. You are the only one of your kind, born of a non-fallen angel and human. If you were discovered, the divine would see you as a betrayal of my service,” he explains. “I knew Lucifer would destroy you no matter what. The divine, though—if I positioned you as a weapon to tip the balance in the war, then I knew they would protect you with all of the offerings of Heaven.”
“This is all information you’ve already imparted,” I point out.
The right side of his lips lift in a half-smile. “Consider it a brief reminder then.”
“How did you convince the council that I would tip the scales? By doing what?” I ask.
“By creating the divination of redemption and preordaining the souls of the daughter of light and the prince of dark to join together. I vowed that united, as one, you two will bring redemption to creation until the end of days.” He repositions himself so he’s facing me.
“Thanks for the arranged marriage—Dad,” I say sarcastically.
“I sought Asher out because I was aware of his protector bloodline. I knew, with his gargoyle lineage, he would guard you with his life once the divine ceased their security.”
I shift on the sand. “I know all of this. What I don’t know is how we are the key?”
“Through his connection to the dragon spirit,” he replies.
“Why?” I whisper. “What significance does his dragon lineage have?”
“In the first war between Heaven and Hell, the dark army used a legion of dragons to attack Heaven’s gates. Lucifer himself took on the dragon form. After that, the creatures were demonized and represented darkness to the divine,” he says quietly. “I am not proud of this, however, I played off the council’s fear and assured them that the weapon I created, you, would not only carry Heaven’s pure bloodline, but that lineage would have an eternal bonded link to the dragon spirit. A connection designed as a reassurance that a dragon would never again, under the dark army’s control, attack our gates. The bond you have with Asher, as his mate, ties your bloodline to the dragon spirit, effectively securing your existence as a weapon of protection against the dark army. The divine would never destroy you, because in their eyes, you tip the scale by protecting the gates from darkness. Do you understand?”
“Holy shit,” I exhale.
My eyes scan the inky black of night settling over the ocean. My mind reels while I recall pieces of the story Asher and Keegan told me about their ancestry at our first dinner together.
“It’s been said that during the seventh century, there was a legendary dragon that lived on the River Seine in France named La Gargo
uille. Apparently, he was so grotesque to look at people said he would ward off evil spirits. According to history, the dragon terrorized the town and people. The archbishop of Rouen, St. Romanus, attacked and killed it. During the battle, Romanus slaughtered the dragon, but not before it bit him on the left shoulder, almost piercing his heart. The bite was significant and bled badly. Unbeknownst to both during the fight, Romanus’s and the dragon’s blood mixed, causing the soul of the dragon spirit and the soul of the man who served Heaven to become bound together for eternity.”
“Wow, that’s remarkable. But how does that relate to your family?” I ask.
Keegan’s authoritative voice pierces through me. “Unfortunately, Romanus didn’t view being bonded to the dragon’s spirit as a blessing. During this time in history, archbishops were permitted to take a wife and have children. Romanus did this, but with each child he created, the bloodline continued and was connected to the dragon’s spirit. Each generation produced from the archbishop’s lineage was tied to the dragon eternally. Our father’s ancestors carry the bloodline of Archbishop Romanus. Hence, our family connection to La Gargouille.”
“Romanus killed La Gargouille,” I murmur, “tying Asher’s family to the dragon spirit.”
“The dragon Romanus slaughtered was a demon sent by Lucifer. By attacking an archbishop, a man who served God, he hoped to start another war. However, darkness always underestimates light. In the end, the divine were able to tie the two spirits together, and the gargoyle race was created in order to protect mankind against evil.”
I just sit in silence, pondering the knowledge Michael is granting me. All this time, I thought that Asher needed me to survive, to keep his soul alive so he wouldn’t cease to exist from stone petrifaction. I was so wrong. It’s me who needs our bond in order to stay alive.
I turn to Michael. “Am I to understand that you’ve tethered our souls, our very existence, together? Are you saying that neither Asher nor I can survive without the other? Ever?”
“Each of your continued existences is reliant on the other’s, yes.”
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