My magic quivers eagerly in the back of my mind. I couldsend it out again, just for a moment—No! I swore I wouldn’t. I held her hands in mine and vowed never to use my judgment against her. She deserves the chance to show me her truth.
I’m numb all over.
The celestial realm will always be where our story started. It doesn’t have to be where it ends. Not entirely, at least. She used to know my every thought before I did, yet she’s read my intentions entirely wrong.
How can I get her to know me again? Do I even know her?
I glance around the room. Her bed is flawlessly made. Each corner neatly tucked. Green pillows of a variety of shapes prop against the headboard.
I run my hand across the fabric of the one closest to me. The soft texture scrapes against my rough fingers—delicate and subtle: everything I’m not.
Celine could turn these pillows to feathers in seconds, yet she takes the time every day to arrange them on her bed. Order and beauty—these pillows make her feel happy and in control. Dual-purposed, I must show her I can be that way too, that life with me isn’t limited to what her fears tell her.
Unfortunately, that means not breaking through the bathroom door to change her mind right now. Some truths must be proven over time.
Celine is my person, the one I swore to navigate life with, but she’s forgotten how good we are together. I’ll remind her that our connection isn’t a mistake, because without her help... I’ll be lost forever.
Pain pierces my temple, the headache threatening to blind me.
It’s a visceral reminder of why I can’t fail.
Celine thinks she severed our vows when she left, but they aren’t broken, only bruised. Judging her intent rather than her actions, our combined magic knows she left to escape her father, not me. Until her heart rejects me, they will persist—tattered andworn, tethering us until time itself unspools and the stars forget our names. I will do the same.
“Tell me more about the orphans,” Celine says.
I study her, surprised she’s asking—especially now.
Walking by my side down the street, she shows no sign of her earlier tears besides a slight swelling of the skin around her eyes.
Beyond my initial explanation, Celine hasn’t brought up life at home, except to ask how and when I believe her father might attack.
“They were marked by your father for assessment,” I say. “He ordered they be collected and bound with silence to await his verdict about their place in society.”
Celine grabs my arm, her fingers strong and determined as she pulls me to a halt. “Don’t sugarcoat it, Malach. You wouldn’t have dropped them here if you believed there was another way.”
I stand a little taller, rolling my shoulders back. Her faith in me feels good. Warmer than the bold, garish star that gives life to this planet.
“Some orphans are never given an assignment...” I grit my teeth, remembering how horror consumed me when I learned of S’lach’s plans. I was too late for dozens of my people. “His dedication to balance has reached unsettling heights. And with his radiant word?—”
“Anyone with enough balls to speak against him or blow the whistle gets silenced. I know how he operates.”
Celine scowls, her face twisted with anger. I flinch. It can’t be easy to hear how her father’s evil has spread. It used to be concentrated on her and her mother.
Gods, this conversation is difficult for a myriad of reasons.
“Why didn’t the kids remember you, though?” Celine asks. “You don’t have magic that would make them forget being abducted, yanked through a gateway, and dropped in Sin City.”
“I was surprised too at first,” I admit. “But S’lach’s stasis held absolutely until we came through the gateway. I left before they woke from it, watching from a distance to make sure they were okay.”
Celine shakes her head, her upper lip curling at the corner. “Leaving me to provide an explanation to panicked angels with no idea where they’d landed. Convenient.”
I look at my feet, the brown leather of my boots dulled by dust. I never meant to give Celine more than she could handle; I only wanted to get them to safety. And I knew she wouldn’t fail them.
“Hey.” She squeezes my arm. “That wasn’t a criticism. You did good to get them out, especially knowing whathe would do if he caught you defying his orders.”
Behind layers of muscle and bone, my heart constricts painfully.
Her faith in me feels good, but her praise hurts.
