Page 97 of Eclipse Born

His eyes were what caught me, held me frozen—golden like Asmodeus's, but deeper, ancient, holding knowledge that no being should possess. They swept over us with casual interest, as if we were curious insects he'd found in his garden. When his gaze landed on Cade, who was struggling to rise a few feet awayfrom me, something like recognition flickered across his perfect face.

“At last,” he said, his voice resonating at frequencies that made my bones vibrate. It was a voice that bypassed ears and spoke directly to the soul, to whatever primal part of humans recognizes power beyond their comprehension. “Free, after so many millennia.”

“Who the feck are you?” I managed to say, the words scraping my throat raw.

The being turned to me, those golden eyes studying me with sudden interest. A smile curved his lips, revealing teeth too white, too perfect.

“I am Azrael,” he said, the name rolling from his tongue like thunder. “The Firstborn. The Original Sin.” He stepped forward, and the stone beneath his bare feet cracked, unable to withstand the weight of his existence. “But you may know me as the First Nephilim.”

Cassiel had pulled himself to his knees, blood—or whatever passed for it in an angel—still seeping from the wounds Asmodeus had inflicted. His face was ashen, and for the first time since I'd known him, I saw genuine fear in his eyes.

“You cannot be here,” Cassiel said, his voice strained with pain and disbelief. “The seals?—”

“The seals are broken,” Azrael cut in, sounding almost bored. “Thanks to your friends here.” His gaze returned to me, sharpening with interest. “Ah, Sean. One of my kind, yet bound in ignorance. Do you even know what you are? Why you haven't embraced it yet?”

His words slithered into my mind like an unshakable truth. The runes etched into my bones since birth burned, responding to his presence. I felt something stir within me, something that had been sleeping my entire life, now awakening at the sound of his voice.

I clenched my fists, ignoring the pain from split knuckles, and forced myself to stand straighter, to meet his gaze despite the primal terror clawing at my gut. “I know enough to say no.”

Azrael smirked, the expression disturbingly human on his otherworldly face. “Pity. I would've shown you true power.”

He turned to Cade next, observing him with keen interest. Cade had managed to get to his feet, but blood still stained his shirt where Asmodeus's claws had torn through it. The mark on his chest glowed faintly through the fabric, pulsing in time with some rhythm that matched neither his heartbeat nor mine.

“And you...” Azrael said softly, “the soulmarked one. You've been dancing with fate since the day you were born. I imagine your time in Hell was enlightening, though you don't seem to remember.”

Cade gritted his teeth, anger flaring hot in his eyes. “Why don't you enlighten me then?”

Azrael chuckled, the sound rippling through the air like stones dropped in still water. “Now, where's the fun in that? But I'll tell you this—your little wall between your past and your mind? It's cracking. And when it falls, well... we'll see whose side you're truly on.”

I stepped between them, one hand reaching back to grip Cade's arm, partly for support, partly to hold him back from doing anything stupid. “We're not here to listen to your monologue. What do you want?”

Azrael shrugged, the casual gesture incongruous with the aura of ancient power surrounding him. “You, Sean. Your power, unchained. Join me, and we could end the farce that is Heaven and Hell. Reforge the world in our image.”

I met his gaze, fighting the vertigo that threatened to overwhelm me when I looked directly into those golden depths. “Not a chance.”

“Your loss,” he said lightly. “But then, I didn't expect you to agree. Not yet.” His attention shifted to Cassiel, who had managed to stand, though he swayed slightly. “And you, Watcher. Still playing Heaven's games? After they cast you out?”

“I serve a higher purpose than Heaven's politics,” Cassiel replied, his voice steadier than his posture.

“Noble,” Azrael mocked. “Futile, but noble.”

I felt the tension in Cade's arm a split second before he moved. With a wordless snarl of frustration, he launched one of his silver daggers at Azrael's throat, the blade spinning through the air with deadly precision.

Inches from its target, the dagger halted mid-air, suspended by an unseen force. It hung there for a moment, vibrating slightly, before dropping to the stone floor with a clatter that seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden silence.

Cade didn't hesitate. The mark on his chest flared brighter, and blackened flames lashed out from his hands. The attack enveloped Azrael completely, obscuring him in darkness for several heartbeats.

When the flames receded, Azrael stood unchanged, untouched, regarding Cade with something between amusement and disappointment, like a teacher whose star pupil had delivered mediocre work.

“You really don't learn, do you?” he sighed.

His aura flared, golden light mixed with shadows that had no source, and the ground beneath us trembled. The air became heavy, pressing down on us with physical force, making it difficult to breathe, to think, to stand.

“Maybe this will teach you,” Azrael said, and moved.

One moment he was standing in the center of the ritual circle, the next Cade was flying backward, slammed into one of the crumbling pillars with enough force to crack the ancientstone. Dust and fragments rained down as Cade slumped to the ground, momentarily stunned.

I threw myself sideways as Azrael continued his movement, barely avoiding a strike that would have connected with my chest. The displaced air rushing past me was enough to make my skin burn.

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