Page 44 of Light

“You have killed unnatural creatures and demons. Neither of which would stain your soul.”

“I killed my parents.”

Jophiel paled. “Was it an accident?” she breathed.

“No. Not my father.”

Jophiel’s luminescent skin dimmed. “Was he trying to kill you?”

“Yes… No. He was distracting me so a demon could do it.”

Jophiel closed her eyes. “Ada, this is dire.”

Adalaide nodded, biting her lip. “I thought as much.”

Jopheil paced the room. “We mustn’t tell Gabriel.”

Adalaide watched the graceful creature move across the small space, nervous energy thrumming through her. She’d always thought she would go to Hell for her actions, knowing somehow her crimes were too great to be forgiven, but to have it confirmed by an angel made her dizzy.

She wouldn’t have forever with Gabriel after all.

“Wait,” Jophiel said, pausing mid-stride. “I can make you a reash.”

“A what?”

“A reash. It’s a second chance only witches are given. When their souls aren’t deemed pure enough to pass on to Alaxia, witches, the offspring of seraphim, are given one more chance. They may serve a six-year term in exchange for their souls being wiped clean.

“If they serve faithfully, fight for the cause, and remain pure, they are given back their mortal lives and one more chance to get it right.

“To have this chance, you must be dying, though.”

Adalaide bit her lip. “Not a difficult ask, given my circumstances.”

Jophiel’s mouth pursed. “We’ve never made a Naphil a reash before. I don’t know what it would do to your bond.”

Sharp pain spiked through Adalaide. Would she lose the bond? If she was destined to be parted from him upon death, did it matter if there was a chance the bond might be broken when she became a reash?

At the very worst, he would be free of a creature too tainted to be welcome in Alaxia. In the best outcome, she might be forgiven and given a second chance with him.

“I’ll do it.”

Jophiel nodded slowly, coming to the same conclusion. “It seems to be our best option.” She ran a hand across her forehead, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I won’t kill you. I can’t.”

Of course she couldn’t. There must be some rule against that.

“There will be more of them this night. When they come, I will ensure I’m injured.”

Jophiel’s arms fell to her side, and she resumed pacing. “You mustn’t actually perish. If you do before I can retrieve your soul, you will not escape your fate.”

Adalaide dipped her chin in acknowledgment.

“But if you’re not wounded enough, neither can I fetch it from your body.”

Adalaide nodded.

“You must be injured in a way in which you will die, but not too quickly.”

“I understand,” Adalaide bit out.

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