Page 114 of Alastair
“Our souls will power the sword.” His hand stilled on my shoulder. “It’s why, as the keeper of the sword, Asa has a piece of each of our sins inside him too. It’s why we don’t have a physical soul weapon. Because Night Fall belongs to all of us.”
The knot of worry I’d felt upon waking and finding him gone grew right then.
“Don’t you see, Laz?” When he finally looked at me again, tears brimmed in his blue eyes. “We won’t die. Instead, we’ll become part of the sword. Eight stones meant for eight souls.”
I went weak in the knees and braced myself on the counter for support, one hand resting on each side of him. He slowly slid his arms around my waist. It hurt to breathe. Trying to drag air into my lungs was like being buried alive, each inhale suffocating.
“No,” I said. The word was strangled. Pained. I crushed him to my chest, my vision blurring as his sweet cedar scent wrapped around me. “I won’t allow it.”
“We’ve made our choice,” he whispered, and his chin quivered as he pressed his face to my neck. “Several paths lead to Lucifer’s victory but only one to his doom, remember? This is the only way. I’ve seen how it plays out. We will win.”
“But at what cost?” I didn’t recognize my voice. It was too broken.
“One my brothers and I are willing to pay.”
“Do I not get a say in this?” I withdrew from his embrace and took his face in my hands. His beautifully devastating face that seemed much too resigned in that moment.
“You always told us we had a purpose. This is it.” He flattened his palm over my heart. “Put personal feelings aside. Defeating Lucifer is all that matters. Would you go back on your word now?”
“If it means losing you? I—” The back of my neck tingled as I sensed another presence, and I spun toward the deck door just as Michael stepped through it.
Only when his eyes blew wide did I realize I was still naked.
“Pardon the intrusion.” Michael flipped around, turning his back to me. The tops of his ears blazed red. “The council approved the plan to visit Asa. I came to retrieve you. I suppose I should’ve knocked on the front door instead of letting myself in.”
“You think?” Alastair stepped around me, placing himself between me and Michael. “We need to discuss boundaries. As in, your complete disregard of them.”
“I… well, yes. I agree,” Michael said. If I hadn’t been so mortified, I would’ve found humor in his stammering. “I will correct this behavior.” He paused. “Do I smell pastries?”
As my Nephilim mate expelled an annoyed sigh and grabbed the pan with the muffins and fritters, I left the kitchen to quickly shower. The discussion wasn’t yet over. But first, we needed to visit Asa to see if he was even willing to hand over Night Fall. His cooperation was vital.
Although I’d never admit it out loud because it went against everything I stood for—everything I’d fought for—a very small part of me hoped he would refuse. No sword meant Alastair and the boys wouldn’t be forced to merge their souls with it.
The world would fall to ruin beneath Lucifer’s heel, but at least I’d still be able to hold Alastair, to feel his beating heart and the tickle of his breath on my skin. It was the type of thinking that had led to the fall of so many angels. Choosing something—someone—over the well-being of the realms.
As a sudden wave of anxiety crashed into me, I slumped against the shower wall. My wings would be stripped if I allowed myself to be driven by such selfishness. But if it meant saving the man I loved, would I care?
“If you don’t hurry, there won’t be any breakfast left for you,”Alastair told me.“This overgrown toddler is eating all your muffins.”
His voice broke through my whirlwind of thoughts, pulling me from the dark place they’d been spiraling toward.
“Save me a fritter,”I responded.“I may very well strangle him if he eats them all.”
“I’d enjoy seeing that.”
Despite the heavy achiness in my heart, I smiled.“Behave.”
“Get in here and make me.”
After finishing my shower, I grabbed a towel and dried off before dressing, forgoing a shirt as usual. Then, I joined my mate and my best friend for Christmas breakfast, pretending for just that moment that nothing else mattered.
***
The celestial prison housed very few cells. Fifty at most. Mainly because most angels who committed acts to warrant being imprisoned normally found themselves cast out instead.
The cells were intended to hold dangerous enemies—who were swiftly disposed of once questioned—and for angels serving sentences for minor infractions.
At one time, I had locked Galen in one.
