Page 65 of Eclipse Born

Cassiel regarded me with that peculiar stillness that reminded me that despite the human vessel, I was facing a being of incomprehensible age and power.

“I need Cade here,” he said, shaking his head. The moonlight caught on his features in a way that emphasized his otherworldliness.

There was something in his hesitation that raised my hackles, a careful precision to his words that suggested he was navigating dangerous territory. Angels didn't usually display such caution.

“Is it fixable?” I pressed, voice dropping lower. “Whatever's wrong with him—can it be fixed?”

Cassiel's silence was answer enough.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. “Well, he's not. Off doing God knows what.” Frustration colored my words, edged with the ever-present fear I tried to keep buried.

Cassiel's gaze turned skyward again, tracing constellations. “He will return. The mark draws him back to you, even if he doesn't recognize it.”

The certainty in the angel's voice was both comforting and disturbing. How much did Cassiel know about the connection between us that he wasn't sharing?

“The Fourth Seal is broken,” I muttered, watching for a reaction. The statement was casual but calculated—a test to see how much Cassiel knew, how honest he was being.

The alley lights flickered overhead, as if responding to the weight of those words. Four seals down. Just one left between reality as we knew it and whatever catastrophe awaited.

Cassiel's jaw tensed, a slight movement that would be imperceptible to anyone who wasn't watching for it. “I know.”

No surprise. No shock. Just calm acknowledgment of information he should have had no way of knowing unless?—

“You knew? Before it happened?” I frowned, suspicion crystallizing into certainty. The question hung between us, heavy with implication. If Cassiel had known the fourth seal would break and hadn't warned us, hadn't helped us prevent it—the betrayal stung more than I wanted to admit.

Cassiel nodded, meeting my accusatory stare without flinching. “That's part of why I left. I knew it was going to break. I had to try and stop Asmodeus before it was too late.”

His voice carried no defensiveness, just the matter-of-fact tone of someone stating an obvious truth. Of course he had tried to stop it. What else would he have done?

But he hadn't stopped it. The fourth seal was broken. Asmodeus was one step closer to freeing the First Nephilim.The words “but I was too late” hung unspoken between us, an admission Cassiel wouldn't voice but I heard clearly anyway.

The angel's shoulders carried a subtle tension that hadn't been there before, a weariness that seemed at odds with his celestial nature. For the first time, I considered that maybe Cassiel was fighting a losing battle—had been fighting it long before any of us became involved.

The thought was far from comforting.

“You should've told us,” I snapped, the fragile thread of my patience finally breaking. “We could've helped. Could've done something—anything—instead of sitting on our arses while another seal broke.”

My voice rose despite my attempt to control it, echoing slightly in the empty alley. A distant window light flickered on in one of the buildings across the way, someone disturbed by the raised voice.

“And what would you have done, Sean?” Cassiel's voice remained measured but firm, a contrast to my barely contained fury. “This was beyond you. Beyond any human intervention.”

There was no condescension in the statement, just the cold assessment of someone who understood exactly what we were up against. The fourth seal had been guarded by ancient wards, by defenses crafted by beings beyond human comprehension. What could I, Cade, or any hunter have really done?

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. The physical pain was grounding, helped me focus through the haze of anger and fear threatening to overwhelm me.

“We're in this together,” I said, each word deliberate and weighted. “You don't get to disappear and make decisions on your own. Not anymore.”

The demand was clear—no more secrets, no more solo missions, no more angelic superiority complex keeping us in the dark while the world teetered on the brink.

Cassiel's gaze flickered, something almost like regret crossing his face. The expression was gone so quickly I might have imagined it, but the angel's next words confirmed what I'd seen.

“You're right.”

The simple admission hung in the air between us, unexpected and significant. From what little I knew of Cassiel, he wasn't one for acknowledging human perspectives or accepting criticism. The concession represented a shift in Cassiel's approach, perhaps even in how he viewed his role in our alliance.

I exhaled sharply, some of the tension draining from my shoulders. “Damn right I am.”

It wasn't forgiveness, exactly, but it was acknowledgment. A step toward the kind of partnership we would need if we had any hope of stopping what was coming.

---