he’d trained with, led into battle and returned, bloody and weary. Angels who had admired and revered him. He’d betrayed every single one.
He deserved this.
Severn’s panicked eyes found Mikhail and locked on. He tripped, and the angels escorting him shoved him forward. The gag muffled his string of words, made them incomprehensible. Whatever he said, it would be lies.
Mikhail tucked his wings in tighter, holding them aloft but rigid, keeping everything about him detached and controlled. Remiel watched. The guardian stood close to the edge, too, his golden-fringed wings held aloft, each feather touched by sunlight. His wings were the light to Mikhail’s ever-darkening feathers. Feathers he was sure the angels must have begun to notice were changing. He wished he didn’t care about any of this, wished it didn’t hurt to see Severn stumbling toward the edge, wished he didn’t ache all over with the need to go to him and comfort him. This love would shatter Mikhail’s mind. But until then, all he had to do was get through this.
Remiel would soon push Severn over the edge.
Mikhail swallowed under Severn’s pleading gaze.
He could do this. He could watch it unfold, and when it was done, the madness would end.
Solo drew up alongside Mikhail, his red wings held loose and low. He stared ahead, careful not to look at Severn. “This is necessary, Your Grace.” His words were so soft that the wind almost tore them away. But they held a note of regret. “He deserves this.”
Mikhail stayed silent.
The angels maneuvered Severn toward the edge. He tried to dig his heels in, but his boots slipped on Aerie’s smooth floors. His muffled words grew louder. He struggled and fought against those holding his arms.
Mikhail had expected Severn to accept his fate and be honorable in his last moments. Fighting did nothing but weaken him in the eyes of everyone here and sully what honorable memory he had left.
Severn broke free of the angel to his right and stumbled to a knee. Sensing weakness in his captors, he tugged harder and somehow managed to free himself from his second guard. Suddenly unguarded, he bolted straight for Mikhail.
Mikhail’s heart thudded. All the angels watched as Severn rushed in.
A shout rose, followed by another. Remiel’s angels swooped.
Faster, he ran, hands bound behind him, mouth gagged. He’d surely plow into Mikhail, yet Mikhail couldn’t bring himself to move.
Solo stepped forward, his blade out, abruptly ending Severn’s charge at its tip.
Severn went down to his knees but kept his pleading gaze tilted upward, silently begging for something. Freedom? To be heard?
Mikhail breathed too hard through his nose. His damned heart thumped like it could change everything unfolding before him. Even his wings had opened a little, of their own accord. But he could not reach down, he could not take Severn’s face in his hands and rage at him, demand to know if any of it had been real before the answer was lost forever. The hurt in Severn’s eyes was real, the agony summoned by his own terrible actions. It was good demons felt emotions, because he’d know, in his final moments, exactly how Mikhail felt too.
Angels scooped Severn up by his bound arms and dragged him backward, toward Remiel, toward the edge. Still, he spewed words behind the gag, so desperate to have his lies heard. But that look in his eyes. That wasn’t a lie. Terror. Regret. Pain. A plea to be heard.
Mikhail forced himself to hold Severn’s gaze even as every instinct demanded he look away. How could one angel still have the power to hurt Mikhail so?
“We are here to witness the demise of the demon lord Konstantin.” The wind flung Remiel’s words around them, making them fill Aerie. “A heinous liar, a brutal warrior, and an insult to all angelkind.”
Severn mumbled something likely derogatory and aimed a scathing glare at Remiel. A flicker of knowing passed between them in a beat, and Remiel’s lips ticked. Mikhail might not have seen it had he not been so intently watching them.
“By Haven, this isn’t right,” Solo whispered and then stilled, realizing he’d spoken aloud.
Mikhail stiffened. “Severn is a lie. He is not your friend.”
Remiel continued, naming all Konstantin’s numerous crimes.
Solo lowered his gaze and then lifted it to Mikhail. “I do not think it was all lies, Your Grace.”
I love you, that is no lie.
Mikhail clenched his teeth.
“He will die here. At the very least, he should not be gagged,” Solo added firmly.
“He will only speak more lies.”
“Then, does it