With that, he stalked out of the library. I stood there, feeling the weight of his words press down on me like a heavy stone.
“Read,” Cato drawled, his robes swooshing across the pristine white floors before he faded into the sea of books.
I’d forgotten he was even there, along with Oliver, who threw an arm over my shoulder.
“I get it now why your father employs assholes. He is one,” he declared, bumping me with his hip.
I gave Oliver a small smile. Maybe. But the king wasn’t wrong.
Sighing, I sat at the table and pulled over the second-largest book:The History of Hell and Its Creation.
Oliver grabbed a different one:Elora, Hell, and Heaven: The Three Celestial Dimensions.
“Seeing as there’s no way we’ll finish reading these thousand-page books in one day, I say we read some and then go find breakfast.”
“Okay, but we’ll probably have to sneak out and make it quick,” I said, resigned.
The silence stretched, and I lifted my head to find Oliver watching me.
“He’s right, Oliver.”
Understanding flickered across his face. He squeezed my hand before we dove into our books.
Chapter
Eight
RONEN
Bonny, our floor maid, walked toward me carrying a basket of my dirty sheets. She hid behind her messy orange hair, her eyes lowered. She never lifted her gaze above my chest. Never had since she came here a few months ago. I unnerved her. Angels unnerved most of the blood-banded humans that had to pay off their debt in Hell. Not the human souls that were sent here, though. But that had something to do with the fact that they were dead.
“Bonny.”
She halted in her tracks, keeping her gaze on the basket. “Yes, General Ronen?”
“Can you send a message to Moira that I’m looking for her?” It was time to tell her the news.
“Yes, General. Right away.” She bowed and scurried off.
I shook my head and walked into my rooms. She had a bad habit of bowing to me and any other angel she talked to, as if she owed us her deference.
I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower. After rinsing off and drying, someone knocked on my door. I wiped myself down and put on loose pants, walking out of my bedroom just as Moira let herself in.
“Ronen.” She smiled, eyeing my chest. The heat in her eyes did little to arouse me, but she wasn’t here to satiate my needs.
“Moira.” I grabbed her arms before she wrapped them around me. “I have news you’re not going to like.”
She stepped back. “Oh? Does this have something to do with how you’ve barely touched me this last week, or how you’re always working now?”
Her whining grated against my patience. But she was right. I’d become distant. Not that I thought she’d ever voice her concerns.
“I’ve been under a lot of pressure from the king. But that’s not why I had you come here. You need to demote two of the weakest warriors in your squadron. The king intends to replace them with two recruits.”
She tensed, and the crystal on my coffee table vibrated.
“You can’t do this.”
“King’s orders, Moira.”
