Page 66 of Light

Uriel came forward, sliding between wings as he made his way to the gate. “Brother,” he said, clasping Gabriel’s arm.

“What did it feel like when your other half passed from the Earthly plane?”

Uriel’s brow furrowed. “Like my soul was coming home.”

Something sharp stabbed through Gabriel. He turned to Chamuel. “And for you, brother?”

Chamuel cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Like the first rays of sun banishing the fog.”

Gabriel pressed his fingers into that place in his chest where it had been solid moments ago. Now, it was a gaping chasm. Unbreachable. He could no easier have spanned the distance than he could press a hand to her cheek and feel the smooth skin beneath his fingers.

He looked to his sister. “Dina. Is she—” he choked on the words, unable to speak them.

Dina’s swirling eyes went round. “No. It's not possible. I made her a reash. Her sins were wiped clean.”

She was right. As a reash, she had been given a fresh start. Any misdeeds were erased. Unless… Unless she had committed new acts so unforgivable that she was bound for Primoria.

Raphael landed beside him, taking in the crowd. “What have I missed?”

Gabriel spun to him, eyes wild. “Where is she? Why is she not at the gates?”

Mary moved to her mate’s side, resting a gentle hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “She may yet arrive.”

He flinched out of her touch, spreading his wings wide and several of his siblings moved back, giving him space.

He launched over the gates and fell, dropping to the Earth.

Landing outside her door, he pushed in. Dizzying pain hit him hard, and he sagged into the wall, catching his breath. Where it had been aching hollowness in Alaxia, here it was the rending of his very being, hollowing him with such force he staggered to his knees, tearing at the pain in his chest.

A line of dark crimson trailed across the floor. He crawled toward it, pulling himself into the sitting room and letting out a mournful howl as he fell beside her lifeless form.

She was ashen and already cooling under his touch. Her bright blue eyes were wide, staring at nothing, and the pentagram in the middle of the floor was drenched in her blood.

He lay down beside her, pressing his forehead to her cool cheek.

He had known she was gone, felt it at the core of his being, but finding her there, devoid of life and love and their soul, tore something irreparable in him.

She was gone. And her soul was not with him.

Curling himself over her still form, he wrapped his wings over them both and blocked out the garish light, too bright for a world that no longer held her in it.

It had been a week or a month. The unbearable light refracting off every surface in his room never changed, never dulled.

He blinked up at Aniel’s somber face. When he blinked again, it was Michael.

The next time he opened his eyes, Dina was there. He couldn’t muster the energy to be angry with her, to feel anything.

“Don’t know why she isn’t here,” Dina was saying, the words finally penetrating some of the haze in his mind.

“He has her.” His voice was scratchy from disuse.

“Who? Do you know where she is? We’ve been searching but have found no trace,” Camael said.

“She can be in but one place,” Dina said softly.

“Let's get her,” Camael said.

Dina rested a hand on Gabriel’s cheek. “Will you go with us, brother?”

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