Page 24 of Seraph's Tears
I wouldn’t subject a man to the church unawares. It would be trapping someone else in my stead. But he was a seraph, a being of great power. He had wings, for goodness’ sake! There was no way Zorababel could trample over him like he did to me. It was impossible. Gabriel could give all those elders a sneer and cutting look, and they’d be trembling in their boots. Maybe it would be a good thing to trick Gabriel into joining the church. He didn’t have nearly as much prejudice as the men in our church.
I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Very well. I’ll try to do it faster. I need time to convince him to trust me, to show him this is in his best interest.”
Lilith glanced at her brother, who clenched his jaw but nodded.
“You won’t have forever,” Lilith warned me. “The reverend expects this to be over before the end of winter.”
It was barely December. “I need at least a month. Six weeks, preferably,” I told them, gripping my hands together, hidden under the table.
Absalom swung his gaze to his sister, who nodded. “Absalom will tell the reverend.”
I held back my sigh of relief. “Then I think we’re done here.” I looked to Silence. “I need to pick up some dry goods at the shop across the lane. Would you like to come with me?”
Her eyes sparkled and she opened her mouth.
Absalom’s hand, which had been tracing the rim of his ale mug, reached out and clamped down again in her lap. “She’s staying with me.”
The hope in her eyes died and she bit her lip, apologizing with her expression.
I smiled in reassurance. “Congratulations on your marriage, Silence.” I turned and walked away, holding my emotions tight until I had my sack of goods and began the walk home.
The chain of my necklace rubbed against my neck, and I tried to adjust it. I’d had the key for a decade now, and I’d fashioned a necklace out of it with a simple chain two years after that, when my doubts first began.
I found the key in the dirt when I was seventeen. I’d dawdled with my friends and let the bread burn again, and one of the elder’s wives had used a birch switch on my open palm as punishment. Furious and embarrassed, I’d stayed quiet until I could hide behind the outhouse and let my tears flow.
I hate it here, I seethed. Surely not all churches for Erlik are like this. One day I’ll go far away and I’ll find a church that doesn’t hurt their people. I found the key while walking home, and it had felt…prophetic. Looking back, it was just the fancy of a desperate girl, but it had become an emblem of freedom to me. Over the years I’d gotten better at hiding my rebellion, concealing my disgust at the injustice done to the people around me. When Zorababel announced in the pulpit that Erlik had told him to choose a bride and it would be me, I gripped the key around my neck, tried not to panic, and smiled. I knew I had to unlock my cage now before it was too late.
The wind dried my tears, leaving my cheeks tight from the salt left on them.
Chapter Ten
Gabriel
I shouldn’t have kissed her. It was a mistake.
A glorious mistake. A mistake I’d revisit in my dreams. Nightmares, too.
My wings splayed out beneath me, tangling in the bed linens. I groaned and threw my hand over my face. Sleep during the day was useless. I couldn’t. At night I had nightmares. During the day my dreams were filled with her. I was going to die if I didn’t have her in some way—even if it was just her scent on my pillow, that could be enough.
I shoved out of bed, giving up on the idea of rest. Yesterday’s kiss had woken me, in more ways than one. Desire hadn’t hit me this strong in…perhaps forever. Certainly in over a hundred years. I needed her, but I should not have her.
Yet this morning, when I’d woken, it wasn’t only my cock that was hard and straining for life. My chest had cracked open, and the ache I’d felt since she’d arrived had grown stronger. Suddenly every breeze felt like a whirlwind. I cared about scents and tastes again. My thoughts weren’t dreary muddles. Everything was fresh, crisp, bright, and cool—just as winter in this world began.
What did she think of the kiss? It had been hard to tell this morning when she’d arrived at my door as prim and proper as a housekeeper should be. Her hair was tucked under that infernal cap. I wanted it free. I wanted it strewn across her shoulders where I could touch it and run my fingers through it.
Bah. Such nonsense. Love and happiness weren’t for me. I should be focusing on finding a way home. Or, if that was impossible, making this manor more inhabitable for my sedge. They deserved a safe haven.
In Aerie, class would separate us. Perhaps here, too. I didn’t fully understand the ways of humanity. But here at Mirkwold we lived in a liminal space, human and seraph as equals, and here I could dream of her kisses and seek succor in her arms without recrimination.
I glanced around the room. It was clean, near sparkling in its intensity, but sparse of furniture or anything that created a sense of home. This was the most decorated bedchamber in Mirkwold. Perhaps that was why so few of my seraphim had visited as of late. I hadn’t been a welcoming host, so wrapped up in my own despair.
I grimaced. That needed to change.
Renewed vigor surged through me. It couldn’t all be from her kiss. I shook my head as I left my chamber.
Castiel, after Eve left last night, had ruffled his feathers and cocked his head, a purely seraph gesture of amusement mixed with curiosity. He knew what he’d interrupted—he could smell it, he could see the flush on my skin. But he hadn’t asked, thankfully. Hadn’t pressed. But his eyes danced.
Had Castiel ever bedded a human? Had he taken one of the village girls as a lover? Or perhaps one of the young men? I had actually opened my mouth to ask him what he thought of human women during our quiet evening together, then snapped my jaw shut. I didn’t need to know. I didn’t need to encourage this thought. And I certainly didn’t need him teasing me about it.
