Page 66 of Wicked Angel
“We’ll make sure everyone who needs to leave can do so safely,” I said.
Levi squeezed my hand, his eyes questioning. “And you? Will you stay?”
Before I could answer, movement near the observatory entrance caught my attention. Three figures were making their way through the rubble—Ezekiel, supporting my mother on one side and my sister on the other. Their wings were folded tightly against their backs, and all three looked exhausted but unharmed.
“Ariella!” My mother broke away from Ezekiel, rushing toward me with tears streaming down her face. She enveloped me in an embrace so tight it made my ribs ache, but I didn't care. I hugged her back just as fiercely, burying my face in her shoulder as all the fear and longing of the past five years crashed over me like a wave.
“I'm so sorry,” she whispered, stroking my hair as if I were still a child. “I should have believed in you. I should have known you could never do the things they accused you of.”
“It's okay, Mom,” I said, my voice muffled against her shoulder. “You couldn't have known.”
She pulled back, her hands framing my face as she studied me with tear-filled eyes. “Look at you. My baby girl, all grown up.” Her gaze flickered to Levi, who stood a respectful distance away, watching our reunion with an unreadable expression. “And with quite the interesting companion.”
Despite everything, I found myself laughing. “That's one way to put it.”
Adriel approached more cautiously, her expression guarded in a way that made my heart ache. She had always been the more emotional of us, quick to laugh, quick to cry, quick to forgive. This reserve was new, a sign of how deeply Rhodes's lies had affected her.
“Hi, Adri,” I said softly, using the nickname from our childhood.
She studied me for a long moment, then stepped forward into a brief, tight hug. “I didn't want to believe what they said about you,” she whispered. “But after a while, when you didn't come back, didn't try to contact us…”
I squeezed her gently. “I know. And I'm sorry. I wanted to, but it wasn't safe—for any of us.”
She nodded against my shoulder, then pulled away, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her gaze, like our mother's, drifted to Levi. “So, a demon, huh? That's unexpected.”
I reached for Levi's hand, drawing him closer. “This is Levi. He saved my life. More than once.”
Levi inclined his head with unusual formality. “It's an honor to meet Ariella's family.”
My mother looked him up and down, her expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, she stepped forward and embraced him as well. “Thank you,” she said simply. “For protecting my daughter when I couldn't.”
Levi stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, then awkwardly patted her back. “She protected me just as much,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion he was trying to hide.
A throat cleared behind us, and we turned to see Adona standing with Kadriel and several other archangels who had remained loyal throughout the crisis. Despite her restored form, Adona still looked shaken, her normally immaculate appearance disheveled, her wings showing signs of damage from her transformation.
“Ariella,” she said, her voice stronger than I would have expected given her ordeal. “A word, if I may.”
I squeezed my mother's hand reassuringly before following Adona to a quieter corner of the observatory. Levi moved to stay behind, but Adona shook her head.
“No, please join us,” she said. “What you've done for Elysium today gives you the right to be part of this conversation.”
We gathered in a loose circle—Adona, Kadriel, three other archangels whose names I didn't know, Levi, and me. Despite the informal setting, I could feel the weight of history in this moment, the sense that decisions made here would shape Elysium's future for generations to come.
“What happened today cannot be allowed to happen again,” Adona began, her gaze moving from face to face. “Rhodes and Ylena exploited weaknesses in our system—weaknesses I allowed to develop through my own complacency.”
“You couldn't have known what they were planning,” one of the archangels protested.
“Perhaps not,” Adona acknowledged. “But I should have been more vigilant, more involved. I trusted my archangels blindly, delegated too much authority without sufficient oversight.” She sighed, looking suddenly ancient despite her ageless appearance. “And Elysium nearly paid the ultimate price for that trust.”
“So what happens now?” Kadriel asked, her injured arm still held carefully at her side despite no longer being in a sling.
“Reform,” Adona said simply. “Meaningful, lasting change to the way Elysium is governed. More transparency, more accountability, more democracy, for lack of a better term.”
I blinked in surprise. The concept of democratic governance was almost unheard of in Elysium, where Adona's rule had been absolute since the realm's founding.
“And greater unity with other supernaturals,” Adona continued, glancing at Levi. “Rhodes's fear and hatred of non-angelic beings blinded him to the strength that comes from diversity, from alliance. If today has proven anything, it's that we are stronger together than apart.”
“The Lost Legion would be willing to help with these reforms,” Kadriel offered cautiously. “If our exile is officially ended.”
