Page 72 of Forged in Twilight: The Complete Series

So stunned by the way the crow flew at Polly, Sam almost couldn’t believe the trace of the aura that clung to its feathery body. After the backlash of her spell hit him, though, he couldn’t deny it. And now, twenty minutes later, his angelic senses were shouting at him that his initial impression was right, no matter how impossible it seemed.

He knew that magical signature. Of course he did. It belonged to Phoenix, Micah’s witch soulmate, who was supposed to have been long dead these last four decades.

Though he rarely liked to admit that he was once one of the Heavenly Father’s favored angels of death, there was no denying what Sam was. In so many ways, he was Death. And when Micah was convinced that his soulmate died before he could claim her—when her coven pronounced her as such—Sam hesitated to point out that, with his abilities, he’d know if she was truly gone. He didn’t want to give his brother false hope, especially since he knew hell-all when it came to magic. What if the witches had a way to tamper with his senses? Just because he didn’t sense that she was gone, did it make it so?

Turned out, his suspicions were proven true. Forty years after Phoenix disappeared, her magical signature had returned tied to a bird that just stole their talisman.

It took some convincing before Polly accepted that it wasn’t her fault. That if he, as an angel, had been caught off guard by the magic, how could a human have been prepared for the witch to use her crow to attack? His mate still couldn’t erase all of her guilt, though, and he wasn’t even a little surprised when she asked Sam what they were supposed to do now. His brothers were waiting to hear whether or not their plan to steal the talisman from Lucifer had worked, and while it had, they were no closer to breaking his curse than they were before.

And all because of Micah’s missing soulmate.

When it came to their next step, there was only one thing they could do. They had to involve his brothers, obviously. But the question became: which one first? The older prince who saw the talisman as his way of bringing his soulmate to see Heaven with him, or the younger prince who thought his soulmate was gone and would have to hear that she wasn’t? Not only that, but that she reappeared just in time to steal the talisman that Polly rightly stole first?

Neither option sounded that great to him. Knowing there was nothing else for it, Sam was ready to flip a coin. This was the City of Sin, after all. Why not leave it to chance?

Heads, Raze.

Tails, Micah.

Just as he tossed the coin in the air, Polly snatched it before it could land against his palm. Then, with another of her pickpocket tricks, she disappeared it so quickly that Sam had no idea what side the quarter landed on.

“You said the crow belongs to Micah’s soulmate, right?” she asked. At his nod, she took a deep breath. “Then we tell him first.”

He was afraid she’d say that. His soulmate might have sticky fingers, but he knew that she only learned the skill because she’d needed it to survive. And, sure, thou shalt not steal might be one of the ten commandments, but so was thou shalt not kill and, angel of death or not, he blew that one right out of the water. Polly was still a good soul, and it was his honor to have her as his soulmate.

“Okay,” Sam relented. “But let’s get dressed first.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, the two of them were standing right outside of Micah’s door. It was late, well past midnight, and though the casino was hopping, Sam had no doubt in his mind that Micah was fast asleep.

He almost backed down. Almost grabbed Polly by the hand, pulling her back to their room, with the promise that they could upend Micah’s world in the morning.

But then he glanced over at Polly, saw the way she was nibbling nervously on her bottom lip, and he felt a pang deep in his chest. If anything happened to her, if he ever lost her… he’d wait for her for the rest of his lifetime. Nothing would stop him from going after her, and if there was even a chance he could get her back, nothing on Heaven, Earth, or in the deepest pits of Hell would be able to stop him.

For four decades, Micah existed as an echo of the male he used to be all because he lost his witch. It would be cruel to keep the truth from him a second longer than necessary just because it made Sam uneasy.

He was fucking Death, after all. Nothing scared Death.

Nothing, except the promise of losing his forever.

Polly glanced up at him, meeting his gaze. A reassuring smile quirked her lush lips. “Go on, Ace. Give your brother the good news.”

He nodded. Good news. Right. Their talisman was missing, and Phoenix seemed to live up to her name by rising up from the dead, but for the first time in four decades, the youngest angel prince would have hope.

Maybe Polly was right. Looking at it that way, maybe it was good news.

And before Sam talked himself out of that, he formed his hand into a fist and knocked.

As the whisper of his brother’s celestial aura brushed up against him, Sam knew that Micah was moving closer to the door. When he pulled the door open, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, his sandy brown hair mussed from sleep, his expression dazed.

He blinked.

“Sam?” Micah’s glassy, pale eyes seemed to clear as he realized that his brother wasn’t alone. “And Polly? What… what’s going on?” He clutched the doorjamb, suddenly a whole lot more alert. “The talisman. What happened with the key?”

The mated pair shared a look. With another encouraging nod from Polly, Sam braced himself.

This conversation was four decades in the making. Maybe if he’d told Micah his suspicions way back then, it might’ve been easier. Either way, with the talisman gone, stolen by Phoenix’s familiar, it was finally time.

“Micah? Bro? We need to talk…”

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