Page 15 of Light

That dull, hollow feeling was back, and he felt it more keenly now. The pain was gone, but the empty ache was nearly worse. To be severed from her by planes of existence was a torture all its own. He envied her that she couldn’t feel what he did. Didn’t know what the promise of a soul reunited felt like.

He passed under the arches of his room, sliding into his favorite golden chair and staring into his fireplace's crackling blue embers. His gaze grew unfocused as he thought back on the night. He’d been unable to stop himself from sharing the truth of their bond. He would not have lied; to do so was a sin unforgivable, especially to one’s analogous umbra, but he’d never been burdened with an inability to hold his tongue.

With her, words spilled from his lips, anxious to be set loose upon the world. Was it like this for the others? I could ask Dina. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Dina would counsel him to reunite their souls. As would all his brethren.

Perhaps in this moment, only the Fallen could begin to understand the fear that plagued him. He shook the thought from his mind. The Fallen had chosen to bond. Tethering himself to the creature whose magic was an abomination against nature.

Tethering. The word had sounded wrong when Adalaide used it. But perhaps it had been more right than she knew.

She would come to regret eternity with him.

Perhaps he should let her die at the hands of Sanura and rid them both of this unnecessary suffering. She could enter the gates of Alaxia freely and exist as the humans did for eternity, rather than the senseless half-life the Nephilim were forced to endure while their mates worked tirelessly for the humans.

But for the first time, he understood something he had not before. Though Aaron, and the Nephilim like him, felt intense longing when their other half was on the mortal plane, that excruciating ache was severed the moment they crossed over.

As whole soulmates, were they unburdened by the emptiness he felt?

Was it hope that was threatening to blossom once more inside him? He tamped it down, stuffing it deep into the recesses of his mind where all feelings better left unexamined lived.

“We must go back.”

Dina’s words cut into his thoughts, breaking him free from the dark place his mind had been headed. Sometimes, he wondered if she could read his thoughts by the way she timed her distractions.

He glanced up at his sister. “She will be safe for the day.”

“What happened last night?”

He slumped back in his chair, staring deeper into the fireplace. “Not today, Dina.”

Dina moved to stand in front of him, blocking his view of crackling blue flames. “She is your analogous umbra. I know she is. Why did we leave? Why are you suffering when you can be together?”

He waved a hand, sending her aside with a bit of air magic, and stared darkly into the flames. He would not have this fight today.

Dina moved again and pressed her nose into his face. He leaned back, giving her space, but she moved closer. This close, he could see the myriad of colors swirling beneath white brows drawn low.

“There is no path but this one. Why delay the inevitable?”

Gabriel growled, warning her to back up.

She ignored the warning, searching his face. “Why are you so determined to martyr yourself? Do you not deserve the same happiness as the rest of us?”

Gabriel’s temper flared. He sat up straighter, stretching his wings wide in a show of dominance.

Dina backed up, showing deference to his broader wingspan.

Only one had outranked him. And his wings were gone now.

He stood. “I did not choose this punishment. I did not succumb to the temptation of mortal flesh, and yet I have suffered the most.” He strode away, stopping at the bookshelf in the corner of his room. “Why, after so many millennia, am I finally shown this mercy? Perhaps it is no mercy at all but simply another punishment. Of all the Nephilim born over the centuries, why now? Why this one?”

“It does not feel like punishment to me, brother.” Dina’s words were soft.

For a moment, he thought she might give up this argument.

Instead, she said, “If she dies, you may never reunite your soul. Is it truly what you wish?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The lie poised to fall from his lips would mark him eternally in shame. But what did it matter if he wanted it? She did not deserve that fate. Better for them both to go on as if their paths had never crossed.

When it was clear he wouldn’t answer, Dina shook her head. “I will protect her for as long as I can, brother, but if you don’t unite with her before she dies, you will live like this until the end.”

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