“I’m trying. I just…” He’s found my weakness, the vulnerabilities in my pitifully frail armor, with such ease. Every cruel word he says wedges itself under my skin, perfectly designed to break my spirit. Despite my best efforts to keep myself from falling apart, my body quivers, and my eyes burn with tears. “I need more time.”
“Excuses. Your resolve is pathetic.” A hard sneer forms on his face. Disgust radiates off of him, becoming one with my self-hatred. “A cockroach has more resilience than you.”
And what reason would the chief of angels have to lie to me? He’s probably right. Of course he is. He knows everything.
If I were any stronger, I’d have already taken control of my power. I’ve made no real progress here, and the truth of my failure claws at my heart, paining my chest.
“I want nothing more than this,” I plead.
“I’m not convinced. You had the chance yesterday, and you wasted it. If you want it so bad, what’s holding you back? Can’t deal with the pain? Afraid your puny mortal heart will give out?” Every word he spits at me is laced with sardonic distaste and bitter disappointment. “You’re just too weak a human for the task, and your continued existence is only delaying the inevitable.”
True desperation creeps into my voice. “I can do it.”
Michael tilts his chin up, looking down his nose at me with a righteous stare that makes me shiver again. “No. You don’t even believe yourself worthy, let alone capable. So why not just die already? Stop wasting everyone’s time. Be a martyr to the cause and let the key pass on to someone who can handle it.”
This is it—this is exactly what I’ve feared. Michael is willing to kill me for my failure and let someone else have my shadow. I feel it stir inside me again, as if it understands the same ugly reality that I do. Instead of thrashing, though, it’s more of a… nervous pacing.
Not a good sign.
“Irefuse,” I whisper to more than just Michael. “I would rather die than give up now.”
Michael leans in closer, towering over me even more. “You could do it right now, you know. With your keepers distracted, I could ensure you’re uninterrupted until you pass the point of no return.”
I consider it. The entity will not allow me to consume its power. Despite its newfound hospitality for its host, it will kill me if I try again. Iknow this in my bones.
Michael must know something I don’t.
I’m sure I reek of desperation in seekinghishelp, of all people, but I have no choice. I was already near my breaking point before this. “How?”
“I will expedite the process by forcing your soul and its inhabitant to neutral ground.” His voice is like the soft, sinister hiss of a snake. “When it’s over, I will allow only one full soul back into your body. There will be no half measures.”
Inside me, my shadow starts thrashing again.
I ignore it. “And what do I have to do?”
“You must make it submit to you. You will know if you are successful, for you will be dead if you are not.” The stagnant magma in his eyes turns to flickering, glowing flames, as if he’s excited for either outcome. “And if your territory issues aren’t resolved quickly enough, your body will cease to be capable of holding a soul, and you willbothbe forced off this plane. But unlike the star who holds the key to the Abyss, your soul will merely be that of a dead mortal: gone, unable to ever return.”
And I will have died for nothing.
Dusk once said that nobody can read thoughts, but with the way Michael watches me in anticipation, I’m not sure that’s true. He seems to breathe in my desolation, my desperation. His eyes, darkened in the shadow of himself, reflect my destitute face. If the star kills me because I can’t control it… then so be it.
I want to live!
But if I fail, I won’t be worthy of living. There is too much at stake. If Michael says I must make the entity submit to me, then that’s what I’ll do—or I’ll die trying.
“Do you accept?” he urges, not letting me think about it for long. “We’re running out of time.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I accept.”
For a split second, something that looks like pride crosses the archangel’s cold face. Though I’m sure it’s not for me. It’s merelyegotistical satisfaction in his ability to lead me into submission.
I’m given no further warning.
He reaches out with a gold-armored hand, grasping my shoulder tightly.
Suddenly, I’m flooded with the strongest sense of peace and euphoria. It feels as if he’s channeling a blessing from God Himself directly into me, so resolute that it could turn a sinner into a saint. I’m awestruck, temporarily turned into a full believer in Michael’s righteous authority. For who could be more deserving to lead the legions of Heaven than this? He is the strongest, the wisest, the most serventile. God’s favorite angel.
Then I watch my soul leave my body.
