I heave in air. “Yeah, that seems right.” It’s a relief to admit it. As if I’m naming the dark cloud over my head for what it is and not what I’d prefer it to be. “Malach being here makes everything harder.”
“Why?” Luca asks. His voice is curious but not demanding.
I consider the question. Malach hasn’t given me a minute of trouble. His ambushes of the guys were diabolical, but now that he’s stopped attempting impromptu ‘judgment’ attacks, there have been no issues.
The root of my unease goes deeper. It runs through me like a vine growing from my bones. Malach’s presence hurts because of everything he reminds me of. My painful past. The realm I left behind. He deserves someone who will live in the celestial realm with him and give him a good life. And I will never go back.
Two truths, diametrically opposed and sharp as knives. They cut.
“He makes me remember the life I should have had,” I say. “The life I don’t want anymore. I see him making plans in his head that he has no idea how to hide, and I know I’ll hurt him. And I hate that.”
I broke my betrothal vows when I ran away from home, but that story isn’t for Luca to hear. That pain belongs to Malach and me alone. Because on that day, I made myself a liar—and my magic nearly killed me for it. “When I see him, I remember it all.”
Luca kisses my cheek and holds me until the water runs cold. My tears are all dried up, the ones from my eyes and my wings. Like a wrung-out dishrag, I’m limp and exhausted, but I feel lighter too.
I turn the water off, scared to face Luca, and stare at my feet.
As always, my toes are painted—emerald green with a glittery topcoat—but one is chipped. Fuck me, I’m just like my middle toe.
But if I can cry all over him, I should be able to look at him afterward, right? Even if he judges me for it.Don’t be a coward, Celine.
Bracing myself, I lift my chin and meet his hazel eyes.
His expression nearly knocks me on my ass... because the only thing I see there is love.
SEVENTEEN
Traditionalnish thatshabetrothal vow:
My fate is no longer mine to command, but ours to weave. Should I ever sever the thread between us, may it strangle every fortune I dared to shape without you.
MALACH
I don’t intend to listen in on Celine and Luca’s conversation. My moral fiber prohibits intentional eavesdropping, but this apartment is small, we’re due a visit to the young angels soon, and I’m simply attuned to her voice.
With my hand pressed to the bathroom door, I listen to her cry. Her tears claw at my soul, exactly as our celestial heritage intended. I’msupposedto rend realms from their orbits when she weeps. Anything to banish her sadness.
How Luca listens calmly, I cannot fathom. Curious, I send a band of magic through the crack beneath the door, whispering under my breath until my skin is crowded with runes.
Judgment: the radiant magic I was gifted with. It can befinicky, but I’ve spent a lifetime honing it. Shifting through layers of bias and intent, known and unknown, I search the heart—not the organ distributing blood to their body, but the motivations that drive them.
Unseen and unfelt, my judgment finds Luca and surges eagerly inside.
There’s anger—bright orange. Hot. Coiled in the corner of his chest, it burns inside him.His basilisk?Around the flame, there’s a massive red orb, something I’ve caught glimpses of in others but never seen in such abundance before... devotion.
My hand curls against the smooth wood grain of the door.It’s beautiful.
Luca is utterly and completely devoted to Celine. While there are spots of green around his heart—ambition—and black—bitterness—he’s smothered them to mere pinpricks. Shoving them out of the way so he can offer her what she needs: comfort, compassion, and a safe place to unravel.
I was wrong to judge him in battle. While heisa lethal monster, Luca’s intent shines brightest when he focuses on her. I rub the back of my neck as my mouth goes dry. Have I judged others unfairly before?
Retrieving my magic, I drop my hand from the door. What am I doing? They deserve privacy. I turn to leave, but Celine’s next words stop me hard, as if I attempted an unlawful crossing of the echelons only to be rebuffed by the magic guarding the celestial pathways.
She hates the plans she sees in my eyes.
It hurts more than I expected. I-I can’t bear it. Stumbling away from the door, I bump into the bedframe, and wince at the thud. The room seems smaller. The walls are closing in around me. While I judged Luca, they judged me and found me wanting.
Does Celine mean the things she’s saying?
