Page 100 of Alastair
Laughter spilled out from the gazebo in the center of the garden. The rose-gold roof reflected the soft hues from the pastel sky. More nerves jumbled in my gut. I did my best to steady them as I advanced down the path toward the three archangels sitting outside for afternoon tea. I couldn’t help but think of Alastair and how he’d enjoy such a thing.
Now’s not the time to think of him. Put him from your head.
Easier said than done. That Nephilim was on my mind more often than I cared to admit, even prior to the breaking of the seal.
“Lazarus,” Raphael said as he spotted me. He appeared the most youthful of all the archangels with a slender build, smooth complexion, strawberry blond hair, and magenta eyes. He had a pleasant temperament, often found with a warm smile and a musical laugh. “Please, have a seat and join us. The pastries are quite lovely. Buttery, flaky, and sweet.”
An ornate, four-tiered platter sat in the center of the table, holding an assortment of treats. Croissants, chocolate petit fours, different-flavored macarons, lemon cookies, and a mix of butter and fruit tarts. Raiden would’ve drooled. A teapot and dishes of sugar and cream adorned the table as well.
“Your offer is most kind.” I bowed my head to him. “However, I come here for business, not pleasure.”
“Then consider it a business meeting. With refreshments.” Raphael motioned to the vacant seat beside him. “Do try the tea. It’s one of my specialty brews, with a hint of raspberry and a dash of honey.”
Uriel’s gaze burned into me. His silence was unsettling.
“We won’t bite,” Selaphiel said with a smirk. His wavy, golden hair brushed the tops of his shoulders, and his dark blue eyes sparkled like the night sky. As an archangel, his power was rooted in astrology. He helped people interpret their dreams, and he ruled over the movement of the planets.
“Speaking of biting…” Uriel grabbed a pistachio macaron from the platter and examined it. As his green eyes shifted to me, he crumbled the cookie in his hand. “That’s an interesting mark on your neck. That abomination has claimed you.”
Raphael frowned at the destroyed macaron. He then grabbed one for himself—a strawberry one—and nibbled it. He didn’t seem fazed by Uriel’s statement. Along with Michael, he had voted in favor of my fated bond with Alastair all those years ago.
“The warding on my soul faltered,” I explained, keeping a steady tone even though I felt anything but. “It was out of my control.”
“Out of your control, you say.” Uriel pushed back from the table and neared me. His seven-foot stature was accompanied by lean yet defined muscle and medium-length brown hair that fell into his eyes as he glared at me. “Was bedding him out of your control too? You’ve disobeyed another order.”
“Yes. I have.” I squared my jaw. “And I accept whatever punishment that may arise from such disobedience. However, we have more concerning matters to discuss right now.”
“Who are you to make such a decision?” Uriel grabbed me by the throat, digging his fingertips in deep. “I should rip that mark from your neck. The smell of him is revolting but not nearly as vile as your insubordination.”
“Uriel.” Selaphiel rose from his chair, the bottom of his blue-and-gold robes swishing as he approached. “Lazarus is right. The war is what matters at this moment.”
“I’ll be the judge of what matters!” Uriel squeezed my windpipe. “I will not tolerate this behavior.”
“Release him,” a deep voice said from behind me.
As Uriel withdrew his hand, I coughed once and sucked in a breath.
“Michael,” Uriel said through a tight jaw. “I shouldn’t be surprised you came running to save him. Just like you always do.”
Michael stepped up beside me, his expression hard. He wasn’t my silly-humored, witty friend right then but rather the warrior angel who instilled fear in his enemies. “Over two thousand years have passed since the council ordered him to seal the bond. Within that time, he never once strayed from that order. As I said long ago, fate cannot be ignored forever. The seal broke through no fault of his own.”
“That will be for me to decide.”
“Us, you mean,” Raphael said, slowly scooting his chair back and standing. He dusted crumbs from his mouth and bare chest before walking over. “You’re not the only member of the council. You don’t hold absolute power, no matter how hard you try to make it so.”
Uriel’s scowl deepened. “As the council, is it not our duty to enforce the rules of our realm? If we allow one angel to disobey a direct order, what’s stopping others from doing the same? It’s why we must strike down those who go against our ruling.”
“Strike me down after we defeat Lucifer, then,” I said, my voice more gravelly than usual. “He should be your priority.”
Selaphiel turned the sapphire ring on his index finger, as he so often did when thinking. “If rumors are true, your boys wounded Lucifer but failed to kill him.”
“If the cursed sons cannot fulfill their duty, then they serve no purpose,” Uriel said.
Irritation prickled at my scalp as his insinuation became clear. But it was Michael who spoke before I could.
“We aren’t killing the boys,” he snapped. “Remove that thought from your head. Your grudge against their fathers blinds you, Uriel. You didn’t see what I did. You didn’t see how they weakened Lucifer’s defenses and pierced his skin. It’s something none of us have ever been able to do. They’re the key to all of this, but a piece is missing. We only need to find it.”
“Do you believe that Mephistopheles told the council everything?”
