Page 11 of Seraph's Tears
I couldn't sacrifice my one chance. And I was tired of making decisions that always bettered the people around me at the expense of myself. I wanted to leave that mindset behind.
Still, Gabriel didn’t deserve this. Guilt pinched me at not telling him about Zorababel. I shook off the guilt and worry. Gabriel was a seraph. He could protect himself. I needed to take care of myself because no one else would.
I took a deep breath and stepped outside. I needed cover. If he found me he’d be furious and punish me—he’d been very clear that first day about not running away without a word.
If Zorababel caught me and realized I’d purposefully failed, he’d drag me before the congregation and cleanse my spirit of rebellion by whipping the evil out of me. I’d managed my entire life to avoid flagellation. The first time I’d seen it, I was thirteen and a man and a woman had been caught committing adultery. For their punishment, the man had to get on his knees and publicly beseech the elders for forgiveness. The woman was forced to kneel, gripping the edge of the pulpit, and submit to ten lashes with the leather tail.
At the time, I swore I’d never commit such a sin as to need public, painful punishment and prayed I’d never be as wicked as the woman. Now I wanted to never be a part of a community that encouraged such humiliation again. If Zorababel caught me, I knew I’d receive both the flogging and at least three days of fasting in the prayer closet for running away from Erlik’s reverend.
The endless wind whipped my skirts around my legs, making it difficult to walk. It was almost as if the house didn’t want me to leave.
I huffed in frustration and grabbed up my skirts with one free hand to better stride across the edge of the moors. I was so caught up in my clothing I didn’t hear the wind change.
The unceasing swooshing of the wind shifted its tenor to gusts and deeper, heavier swoops. The long grass around me bent rhythmically in time to the bursts. Surprised, I glanced around. A movement caught the edge of my eye, and I looked up.
My heart sank.
Gabriel hovered above me, his snow-white wings beating every few seconds.
All the breath left my lungs. If I had thought him beautiful before, it was nothing compared to now that he was above me with those glorious wings outstretched. The white of his feathers contrasted against the dark gray of the sky, so bright it nearly hurt to look at them.
I raised my hands to keep the wind of his wings out of my face and stared up at him. Shame flooded my body, making my cheeks hot. I’d been caught. I squirmed under his gaze.
He slowly descended, wingbeat by wingbeat. In his arms he held my trunk, and he wore a leather vest that did nothing to hide the bulge of his arm muscles. His expression was fierce, his eyes penetrating. Those beautiful lips twisted into a scowl.
This was why Zorababel’s family called him the Herald of Death. I knew, if he had the inclination, he could smite me there.
My breath came in short, measured bursts. I froze, prey mesmerized by its predator, until he landed in the grass a few feet from me. The long, primary feathers brushed the tips of the grass and he folded them inward, tucking them along the line of his back.
“What are you doing?” The baritone echoed through my bones.
I swallowed, trying to come up with an answer. “My…my trunk. I paused cleaning to retrieve my trunk.” Fear trickled through the guilt.
He glanced at the horizon, where the sky was turning dark as licorice. “It would be dark while you walked along the road.”
I laughed nervously. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted my trunk.” I’ll try next time he leaves.
He shifted my trunk in his arms, a large, beat-up old thing with leather peeling from the edges and rusty rivets. “I retrieved it for you.”
“Oh.” I blinked. Warmth pooled in my abdomen. He’d gotten it for me? His lowly housekeeper? “Thank you. I didn’t expect that.” My guilt grew.
He nodded curtly, gaze cutting to the side. “I was able to fit some foodstuffs inside, too.”
The warmth grew despite myself. I smiled. “You did? For me?”
“I can’t have my housekeeper starve, can I?” His voice was gruff, but the way his wings hitched against his shoulders and his boot scuffed the soil made me think he wasn’t angry.
Remorse squeezed my heart. I couldn’t run away now. I dropped my valise in the high grass, hoping my skirts and grass would hide it from his sharp eyes. “Thank you.” I flashed a nervous smile. “I’ll meet you inside?”
He didn’t respond, just shot up into the sky roughly ten feet above my head.
My heart skipped a beat at the sudden movement. I’d never get used to a sight like that.
But the sight of a cottage by the sea is a sight I’ll never grow tired of either. I couldn’t forget my goal, because I would suffocate if I had to return to the Church of the Love of His Divine Saints.
“Housekeeper,” he called down to me.
I shaded my eyes and looked up at him. “Seraph?”
