He lifts his sword, sees out of the corner of his eye that Mathieu is still too close and he doesn’t—he can’t—yet he still has the upper hand, he can force his brother out, force him away again. Lucifer has infected him, somehow lingering under the flesh of this body.
He might not be Michael, but Brath can take him on if he just--if he—
“Brath!”
Their eyes meet. Brath is sure Mathieu knows what’s happening, what he has to do and he was right, this isn’t either of the two options, it’s not an option either of them would pick, and it’s all in the fraction of a second that Brath gains clarity.
Lucifer used him, and for thinking that their mutual hate of heavenly laws and hierarchies would make them allies, that their brotherly bond meant anything when Lucifer had once killed hundreds of their kind, Brath deserves this.
Brath deserves to be punished for thinking his brother would spare Mathieu in his quest to wipe out the earth just because Brath asked him to. Keith and Gareth warned him, and he didn’t listen, too blinded by his own ambitions to see that his brother would never compromise and bow to him.
And now Lucifer is stuck to Brath’s soul like a parasite.
There is only one way to get rid of him.
“Goodbye,” Brath says and drives his sword into his own chest. A scream that is not his leaves his lips and all outlines start to blur and fade, but he feels warm. He feels a certain kind of warmth that he’d expected to never sense again.
Lucifer is still clawing on his insides, but he loses grip, can’t hold on to a soul that is now successfully broken in half by Brath’s own doing.
He feels oddly relieved.
As he drifts away, fingers entangle with his own and hold on, even as he is lifted off and dragged away by the light.
* * *
“Where are we?” A voice asks next to him.
Brath blinks himself out of his trance. Mathieu is sitting right in front of him. They are surrounded by nothing but gray infinity. He touches a few careful fingers to his chest and finds it free of pain; free of the gaping wound he should have.
“Heaven,” Brath replies breathlessly.
“Does that mean we’re dead?” Mathieu asks.
“I don’t know,” and Brath really doesn’t. He curls his upper body forward and pulls his legs against his chest, bedding his chin on his knees. “Why did you—”
“Why did I throw myself at you when you were disappearing in a cloud of light?” Mathieu shrugs. “Not sure. You don’t deserve it after trying to unleash the Devil on our asses.”
Brath huffs.
“But that backfired, didn’t it? And I think you know already that it wasn’t your best move.”
Mathieu sighs and leans on his elbow in the gray mist surrounding them. “You made a mistake. And I know you’ve made them before, and you got punished for it. But I’m not going to do that.”
Brath raises his eyes in surprise.
“I get that you’re still angry, even after all this time. I get that it’s easy to hold onto a grudge. Hell, I have a sister, I have a family and sure, our fights are happening on a smaller scale, but shit goes down—can I curse in Heaven?” Mathieu shrugs and continues, “It always does. They turned their back on you when they shouldn’t have, and you’ve been alone all this time and I—” Mathieu breaks off before reaching out and taking Brath’s hand.
Brath feels light-headed. His chest is too small for everything Mathieu is putting into it.
Mathieu looks at him. “I love you, all right? I love you, and I don’t care about all the crap that went down thousands of years ago or just now. Can’t say why, but I do. And I know we’re probably doomed to fail at this. I don’t even know if we’re still alive.”
“Mathieu, I—”
“You don’t need to say anything,” Mathieu cuts in. “Honestly, I don’t know how you’re fine after that stunt just now. You looked kind of… split in half.”
It’s something Brath can’t quite grasp either, but as he is about to answer, he notices Mathieu’s glance drift over his shoulder and then his eyes widen and so Brath turns around. And there he is. Of course, he has his hands in this.
“Aleksander?”
The archangel, their Father’s voice and eyes and, since Michael’s fall, also His right hand, smiles like he always does.
“Hello, little one.”
Brath is quick to rise to his feet, dragging Mathieu up with him and not letting go of his hand even as he comes face to face with the one who is going to decide not just his, but most likely both of their futures.
“I’m very disappointed,” Aleksander starts with a grave voice that after everything he’s done makes Brath cringe inwardly.
“Oh no,” Mathieu pipes up next to him, and Brath turns a bewildered look into his direction.
Brath shushes him by pulling at his arm, and vehemently shaking his head, and he realizes that it’s a big change of attitude for him, but this is not just about his own existence anymore. They can do with him what they want, but Mathieu is still here, and Brath fears that Aleksander might hurt him to teach Brath a lesson. And yes, he deserves it.
“I know, Aleksander,” he says. “I was supposed to find redemption. Instead, all I looked for was revenge. I beg you to punish me. I beg you to end me because I can’t face another however many more years on earth—“
Aleksander silences him by raising his hand. He steps closer, wearing a solemn expression, white coat softly rustling with every motion. “I am not disappointed in you, little one. I am disappointed that you were forced to believe that our Father wouldn’t let you find peace.” He places a warm hand on Brath’s cheek. “I am disappointed that you were led to think He would wish to inflict pain upon you.”
Before Brath can utter a single word, Aleksander turns to Mathieu. “You should rest,” he tells him. “When you wake up, you shall find everything resolved.”
And with a flick of Aleksander’s hand, Mathieu is gone.
Brath’s fingers grab nothing but air. “Will he be...”
“He shall be just fine, little one,” Aleksander answers him. “He has done nothing wrong. And our Father has already come to a decision regarding your fate.”
Brath nods. He wishes he could’ve at least said goodbye, but he guesses he is not deserving of this level of kindness.
“Before my punishment is carried out, I do have two questions.”
“Please, ask.”
“Is my brother still in his chains?”
“He is,” Aleksander says. “And he shall remain so.”
Brath sighs with relief. Then he meets Aleksander’s eyes. “You knew that Michael was down there all this time, didn’t you?”
Aleksander smiles. “Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you…” Brath starts, but he doesn’t know how to finish.
“He had done great deeds,” Aleksander says nonetheless. “It was his will, and our Father chose to respect it.”
Brath nods. Merciful after all. It is just kind of disappointing he had to wait millennia to find out. Aleksander moves closer after letting Brath have a few silent moments to ponder on it all, and then he frames Brath’s face in a way that reminds him so much of how Mathieu did that it hurts again. But Aleksander’s eyes are dark and warm and so deep that Brath gets lost in them, his mind blissfully wiped clear, and everything inside of him is replaced by warmth, lulling him into a trance.
Brath closes his eyes.
“Is this what death feels like?” He asks.
Aleksander’s voice sounds close and far away simultaneously.
“No,” he replies. “This is what it is like to find peace.”
20
Mathieu
Mathieu groans and burrows deeper into his pillow, and his phone still pressed to his ear with reluctance. He has received too many of these calls over the past week, all well intended he is sure, an attempt to get him back into the world because he has not left his bedroom in days. And oh, the irony, of course, it’s Jak
ob who is calling him.
“I don’t want to go out and get coffee,” he tells him.
“You always want coffee,” Jakob argues.
“I have coffee in my kitchen,” Mathieu replies. “If I want coffee, I can go into my kitchen and get some.”
“Do you even get to the kitchen?”
“I could. If I wanted to.”
Jakob sighs heavily. “I give up, I do. But please note that this is not healthy. And you’ll have to leave your apartment eventually.”
“Noted,” Mathieu says and hangs up. He tosses the phone off the bed where it hits the floor with a clunk. Honestly, he hopes it breaks so that he won’t have to take these calls anymore. Jakob might mean well, but it’s still annoying.
Mathieu doesn’t have a problem. He just doesn’t feel like getting up. He is quite content with staying cooped up in his bedroom for the rest of his life.
“Was that Jakob?”
Mathieu rolls over and stretches, and the smile that’s been plastered on his face makes no sign of disappearing.
“Yup.”
“What did he want?”
He reaches out his hand and brushes a stray strand of hair off Brath’s forehead. He looks so young and soft in the cold light of early morning, even more so now than he had ever looked before. Mathieu is still waiting to wake up and find it was all a dream; he is still waiting for his heart to burst because it’s too small for everything that Brath is making him feel.
“He just wants to get coffee.”
“Hm,” Brath hums and uncurls his body like a cat, blankets sliding off his torso, and yes, Mathieu would be insane to even think about leaving his bedroom ever again. “I still don’t fancy coffee,” Brath continues with a yawn. “But I could do with a brownie.”
A laugh crawls up his throat and leaves Mathieu’s lips before he can stop it. “Well, I’m glad some things never change,” and he rolls on top of Brath with one swift movement, relishes the quiet gasp that escapes him and leans down to bury his head in the crook of Brath’s neck. He takes a deep breath and can honestly not remember ever feeling more content. He doubts there is anything that could be more perfect.
Brath tangles his hands in his hair, drags his fingers over Mathieu’s scalp before shifting a little, letting Mathieu’s head slide off his shoulder and onto his chest. Mathieu closes his eyes and listens. One soft thump after the other—a calm and steady rhythm.
“I have a heart now,” Brath says like it still surprises him, and Mathieu guesses that it probably does. But there is a smile in his voice too.
“You do have a heart,” Mathieu echoes and it remains unreal to him too. “You’ve always had a heart.”
The End.
I hope you enjoyed this story and if it interests you, I, as the author, would be so grateful if you could leave an honest review. You can do so here at Amazon.
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About the Author
Ella Primrose is an emerging author with her hands in all kinds of sexy romps and romance stories. Stay tuned because you’ll be hearing more from her. Click below to check her website for new releases and past books. If you click on the Facebook icon you can follow her page and get notifications whenever she releases a new book.
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Copyright 2017 by Author Ella Primrose. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]
www.ellaprimrose.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes only. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Ella Primrose.
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The World Before: MM Romance Page 14