I refuse to look up. From the corner of my eye, I can tell that Malak is equally silent, which I can’t blame him for. It’s a reasonable act of self-preservation, not cowardice.
“I have been working with her daily,” Abaddon answers. “Her physical conditioning has progressed rapidly, and her celestial training is… satisfactory, for now.”
“She cannot access the key yet.” Michael doesn’t say it explicitly, but the tone in his voice demands an explanation.
Abaddon takes his time responding, seeming to ponder his next words carefully. “We do not fully understand the nature of the star. It is almost sentient, like a fragment of a soul. It seems to be intentionally evading her efforts to grasp the key. I would reason that has something to do with Divine Timing.”
Another pause, and I start to sweat.
Finally, Michael lets out a contemplative hum, returning his focus to cutting his food. “Perhaps the girl’s soul is simply too weak to host such power. We will privately discuss contingency plans at a later time.”
I have to tighten my muscles to keep them from trembling.
When all my bravery is taken away by a crippling intrinsic fear of this one entity, all that I have left is pure vulnerability. Somehow, he’s made me feel even more ashamed of myself than I already was. I’m just going to prove them right—I’m weak.A failure.
A pathetic human girl, in way over her head.
Worst of all, I don’t even know what the costs are. If they’re desperate enough, they could try something extreme. Maybe they’d attempt to force the power out of my soul, even if it kills me in the process.
Once my fear finally passes, a dark cloud settles over me, and I finish my food in silence.
The archangels eventually switch their discussion from Earthly weather to Abyss operations, which I listen to with only mild interest. Locust population numbers, mining and farming yields, trade with Elohim... I’m inclined to believe that they’re intentionally avoiding discussing anything of actual importance around me. There’s a whole apocalypse starting, yet they’re acting like everything is just business as usual.
I lean closer to Dusk, whispering, “Is it just me, or is this weirdly trivial?”
“It’s not you,” he mutters back. “They’re excellent at avoiding any classified information in the presence of those without high enough clearances.”
“So… just me?”
“Both of us, for the most part.”
“What about Abaddon?”
“He’s the only Principality who isn’t on the Council, but a Principality nonetheless.” I can hear this disdain in Dusk’s voice, even at such a quiet volume. “If he doesn’t have an equal clearance to them, then he has to be just a step below.”
The wheels in my head start turning.
The archangel who lives in Elohim despises their leadership, yet he maintains loyalty to them—almost like a slave who’s been whipped into submission for so long that they develop Stockholm Syndrome. And yet, the king of an entirely different realm has no problem being their damn business partner.
Something isn’t adding up here.
I feel Abaddon staring at me from across the table. When I look up,his heated gaze flashes from Dusk, then back to me, his eyes narrowing.
Is he…jealous?
To test my theory, I lean closer to Dusk, putting a hand on his arm. “How much longer do we have to stay here before it’s no longer impolite to leave?”
He grins down at me, completely oblivious to any ulterior motive of mine. A little bit of his warmth even seems to return. “Eager to get out of here already?”
Before answering, I glance back at Abaddon, and—holy shit, heisjealous. His face has become a smoldering promise of violence, pinpointed on the connection between my hand and Dusk’s arm. Considering his usual lack of expressiveness, the significance is huge. And hugely infuriating.
What right does he have to be possessive over me? I don’t belong to him in any way, shape, or form. Sure, we’ve had a heated moment or two, and I’ve felt some type of desire in him before, but I think he’d rather gouge his eyes out than act on it. We’re not in a relationship.
I shoot him a death glare before turning my attention to Dusk’s arm, delicately dragging my fingers down it. “Please. Got any excuses to get me out?”
“For you, Dawn, I’ll try my best.” He stands up abruptly, clearing his throat to get the table’s attention. “I’ll be working with Kae in the training rink at first light, if any of you would like to come by and observe. Until then, if you will excuse us, I’ll escort the girl to her room so that her human body may be rested for peak performance tomorrow.”
In any other situation, I would have laughed at the formality of his announcement. But the Council members give him a nod or some other cue of dismissal, seeming to accept Dusk’s announcement for face value.
