“Just like her mom.” He brushed his knuckles over their daughter’s cheek and smiled. “You need a name, little angel.”
“Do you have one in mind?” Caro asked, her bright gaze on the child in his arms.
He considered and nodded. “I do.”
“Share.” A demand, not a request.
His lips curled at the impatience in her tone. Already his Caro was back to the angel he adored.
“Anastasia means ‘resurrection’ in ancient Greek, but it’s far too plain for her.” He brushed his knuckles down her neck to the blanket cocooning her tiny form. So soft. “How do you feel about Astasiya?” He didn’t ask Caro, but his daughter. “A variation of Anastasia, but unique and empowering, and beautiful.”
Delight tugged at his heart, confirming his choice.
“She approves,” Caro murmured. “As do I. We can call her Stas for short.”
“That’s a popular male human name in Russia and Eastern Europe,” Gabriel informed from the doorway. “But suitable.”
Sethios glanced up to see Leela beaming beside Gabriel, her gaze on the baby. Definitely not a normal Seraphim.
“She’s a future heartbreaker,” the brunette declared, her mirth apparent. “I look forward to knowing her in a few decades.” She glanced at her wrist as if checking the time, but she didn’t wear a watch. “Well, I do believe my work here is done. Unless you all require me for anything else?”
“A rune,” Gabriel said.
All eyes were immediately trained on him, but it was Caro who spoke first. “Excuse me?”
“Astasiya requires something subtle, a marking that disguises her as a fledgling. Something to explain her immunity to Ichorian gifts and to make her vulnerable to Hydraians, at least until her coming of age.”
“Why would we do that?” Sethios demanded. An invisible grip constricted his heart, reminding him of the vulnerable being cradled against his chest. “Sorry, little angel.” Whether it was the word or tone she didn’t care for, he didn’t know. “You’re very wrong about this resembling a regular human birth, Caro.” Because he was certain newborns didn’t react in this manner.
“She’s far from average, even for a Seraphim.” Pride colored her tone even as she narrowed her gaze at Gabriel. For being covered only by a sheet, she appeared quite regal. “Explain the need for the rune.”
“It’s for her protection.” He finally stepped into the room, but merely to lean back against the wall with his hands in his jean pockets. “According to Skye, she will one day be mistaken as a fledgling and the rune will explain away some of her abnormalities. It will essentially protect her identity until such a time that she is ready for the world to truly know her.”
Sethios snorted at the reasoning. “We’ll be here to protect her, thereby making that additional requirement moot.”
“No. You won’t.” For the first time, emotion flickered in the Seraphim’s gaze. It was brief, but deep, and radiated a sadness that silenced the room. “Skye has altered the prophecies in such a way that Osiris is unaware of Astasiya. But in seven years, a sacrifice will be required to protect her identity. If either of you refuses, he will learn of her, and she will be destroyed.”
The air around them chilled with his words, freezing Sethios’s heart. He couldn’t speak and neither, apparently, could Caro.
“Ezekiel created a plan that I perfected, but it involves several chess moves that have to line up to work. One misstep and we risk Astasiya.” He locked gazes with Caro. “I have heard all the possible scenarios, Mother, and while the easier path would be to raise and protect Astasiya among Seraphim, I remain unconvinced that she will be safe there. This, in my informed opinion, is the best path, and I am prepared to take a blood oath. For my sister.”
Caro and Leela gasped, causing Sethios’s eyebrows to inch downward. “What does that mean?” he asked.
“He’s offering to pledge fealty to Astasiya,” Caro explained, her voice filled with wonder. “It’s an honor only bestowed upon members of the High Council.”
“If the prophecies are right, which, I believe, they are, then the members of the High Council no longer warrant my loyalty. My sister, however, does. And she will require my guidance to succeed in your absence. This is the only way.”
“By committing to her, he will be outlawed from the Seraphim community and thereby free to do as he pleases among humans. Which would grant him the flexibility to watch over her as needed.” Caro shook her head sadly. “I cannot ask that of you, Gabriel. You’ve already done enough.”
“You’re not asking me to do anything. I’m telling you what I intend to do. An edict will arrive any day now, requiring you to return to them with Astasiya, and it will likely also include a request to remove Sethios. Will you abide?”
Sethios didn’t need to ask what that last part meant—the Seraphim would require Caro to kill him. Because that was the only way he would allow her to take his child away from him.
“I will not.” Caro lifted her chin. “And if they attempt to force me, I will respond lethally. Our daughter will have a choice in her future.”
“Will they even be able to find you?” Sethios asked, curious. “I mean, your skill is the ability to hide, right?”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Correct, and I’ve been concealing myself since relocating here. The only one who can find me, other than Gabriel, is my mother, and she is lost to slumber for at least another few decades.”
