She shut him out.
Then let him in again.
Then slammed the door in his face once more.
It was a mental dance that left him shaking against her, his arms holding fast, his body her anchor in a world she didn’t want to return to. There’s no choice, angel, he whispered, his voice agonized by the pain straining their link. You’re coming back to me. Then we’re taking them all down.
Because this experience showed him something very important—a fact all of them had danced around for years.
The Seraphim were just as big a problem as his father. Perhaps even worse because they had a society littered with harsh rules and stoic edicts.
They’d created Osiris. Left him to do whatever the fuck he wanted on Earth. And now wanted to use Astasiya to remove the bastard.
A twenty-five-year-old girl.
Mated or not, she was still a child in the grand scheme of the universe. They all were when compared to the ancients on the fucking council. And they wanted a young female to take down one of the oldest beings known to time?
She’s expendable to them, Caro whispered, their connection more alive now than it’d ever been. Or at least, it felt that way after years of being separated.
He released her from his persuasion and turned her in his arms, finding her eyes filled with knowledge and history. It was all written there in her expression, the love they’d once had, the bond they’d held sacred, and the inevitable heartbreak they’d both endured.
They want to use her because she’s expendable, she reiterated, drawing him back to his thoughts on the council and their intentions. She’s a soldier to them.
Yes, he agreed. We all are.
Her knees buckled, but he caught her with ease and lifted her up into his arms. Vera sat in a chair a foot away, her eyes closed.
“Is it done?” he asked her. She didn’t answer, causing him to frown. “Vera?”
“She’s resting,” Gabriel said from the other side of the room. He’d taken a seat as well, and Ezekiel was nowhere to be seen.
“How much time has passed?” Sethios asked, noting the sunlight outside—a rarity in Iceland during the winter season. That indicated it was close to noon.
“Several hours,” Gabriel confirmed. “Skye said your room is upstairs and two doors down on the left. Jacque and Owen are staying across the hall. I’m sleeping here.” He stretched out on his back along the four-cushion couch and tucked his hands behind his head. “We need to talk tomorrow” was the only other thing he said before his eyes fell closed.
Yeah, Sethios imagined there was a lot everyone needed to say. But his first priority was taking care of the now dozing woman in his arms. She’d tucked her head against his shoulder, her blonde hair tangled and unwashed. That didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to her forehead. I’ve got you, angel, he told her.
I know, she replied, sighing against him.
He took a moment just to study her, amazed that he held her.
She was here.
His Caro.
His life.
His heart.
In his arms, against his chest, warm and fragile and beautiful and strong. Such a conundrum. He felt her vulnerability, her exhaustion and exposed mind, yet power emanated beneath the surface, his warrior refusing to stand down even in her weakest state.
I love you, Caro.
I love you, too, she whispered, the fatigue in her mental voice rivaling the one exuded by her body.
He carried her upstairs and to the bedroom Gabriel had indicated was theirs for now. Inside, he found a warm bath already poured, the scents of eucalyptus strong and encouraging.
Laying Caro on the bed, he stripped out of his clothes and hid the blade in the nightstand. Then he lifted up his angel and took her to bathe.
