Page 75 of Eclipse Born

“Shit,” I whispered to the empty alley.

I had just made a deal with a being powerful enough to extract souls and keep them in bottles. A creature old enough to have witnessed the beginning of humanity, claiming some twisted form of paternal interest in Cade. An entity that knew about the Enochian runes supposedly binding my true nature.

I pulled out my phone, staring at the screen. I should call Sterling, tell him what happened. Or Cade—he deserved to know I was literally carrying his soul in my pocket. But what would I say? How could I explain any of this?

The vial pulsed against my chest, a constant reminder of my new responsibility. Of the impossible choice I now faced.

I slid the phone back into my pocket without making a call. First, I needed to process what had happened, to figure out what this meant. To decide if I could trust anything Zeryth had told me.

As I walked back, I couldn't shake the image of Zeryth looking at that vial with something like affection. The idea that a being of such power could develop attachment to a human was disturbing enough. That he saw himself as some kind of father figure to Cade was even worse.

But most unsettling of all was the realization that on some level, I believed him. The way he spoke about Cade, the care he claimed to have taken with his soul—there was something genuine there, warped as it might be.

I slid into the driver's seat of my car, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. The vial pulsed against my chest, a rhythm as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.

“Don't worry,” I murmured, not sure if I was talking to myself or to the soul I now carried. “I'll figure this out.”

I started the engine, the familiar rumble offering little comfort. I had a soul to protect, a friend to save, and apparently, ancient runes to break.

Just another day in the life of Sean Cullen, nephilim-in-denial.

19

LOST AND FOUND

SEAN

Ifound Cade already asleep, sprawled across our bed, his chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm. For a moment, I just watched him. The weight of what I had done sat heavy in my chest, but in this moment—seeing Cade safe, breathing, untouched by the horrors he couldn't remember—it almost felt worth it. Almost.

The soul vial felt impossibly heavy in my pocket. Zeryth's words echoed in my mind.

I wasn't sure how long I stood there, just watching Cade sleep. In rest, he looked like himself again, not the empty shell that had been walking around. The streetlight filtering through the blinds cast stripes across his face, highlighting the familiar curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose. If I tried hard enough, I could almost pretend nothing had changed.

I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and lingering. He stirred, responding instinctively, pulling me closer. His eyes fluttered open, clouded with sleep but clearing quickly.

“Sean?” His voice was rough, confused but not unwelcoming.

“Shh,” I murmured, kissing him again.

We didn't speak further, didn't need to. What followed wasn't rushed or desperate but something softer, something grounding. His hands found their way under my shirt, warm against my skin. I traced the familiar planes of his body, cataloging every scar, every mark. Trying to convince myself that this was still Cade, still the man I'd gone to hell and back for.

And for a while, with his heart beating against mine, his breath warm against my neck, it was easy to believe. This, I thought, might be the last moment of peace between us once he learned what I'd done.

Later, with Cade sleeping soundly beside me, I slipped out of bed. I moved silently across the hardwood floor, stepping onto the balcony and into the crisp night air. The city stretched beneath me, a sea of lights in the darkness, but my eyes weren't on the skyline. They were locked on the small glass vial in my hand.

Cade's soul.

It shimmered like liquid starlight in my palm, pulsing with a quiet, undeniable presence. Blue-white light swirled within the crystal, sometimes brightening, sometimes dimming, as if it were breathing. As if it were alive. Which, in a way, I supposed it was. It felt wrong to hold it—like something sacred had been stolen. But I had no regrets. Not yet.

“Where did you get that?” the angel's voice was dangerously quiet.

I didn't flinch at the voice, though irritation prickled up my spine. Cassiel stood beside me, arms crossed, eyes sharp in the darkness. His trench coat flapped gently in the night breeze, his face illuminated by the glow of the soul vial.

I smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Made a deal with the devil,” I said simply, twirling the vial between my fingers. The soul inside swirled faster, as if agitated by the movement.

Cassiel's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with a hint of that otherworldly power he usually kept contained. “What did you trade, Sean?”

I didn't answer. Not because I didn't want to, but because saying it out loud made it too real. Instead, I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the vial. “Did what I had to. We both know Cade wouldn't have done it himself. Someone had to.”

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