Wings of the Wicked - By Courtney Allison Moulton Page 0,144
he said again. “Geir and I were the ones who captured Will and took him to Bastian. The night Ragnuk killed you and took you to where Bastian held Will, I was there. And I did nothing. I just let it all happen.”
We fell into silence. I could hear the regret in Cadan’s voice. He hadn’t been able to stand up to those who controlled him until now. I understood that feeling of helplessness better than most. It took an extraordinary amount of courage to stand up to those you fear, whether they were Hellspawn or blood family or both.
“It’s rather strange that the first time I saw you,” he said, swallowing hard at a pause, “you were dead. I like it better when you’re alive.”
“That’s funny. Me too.”
He smiled sideways for an instant. “I’m serious, Ellie.”
“But you didn’t do nothing the night Bastian took me,” I assured him. “You came to save me, didn’t you?”
His gaze fell to the grass at our feet. He nodded.
“Bastian was going to fight Will and probably kill him,” I continued. “You stopped that. You saved both our lives. You protected us, and you stood up for humanity. That took a lot of courage and good in you. Thank you, Cadan.”
He opened his mouth to speak but was hesitant. “I killed my own father to do it.”
I chose my words carefully. “Do you believe what you did was wrong?”
His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened as he continued to stare at the ground. “What he wanted was wrong. I just didn’t know how else to stop him. But I feel …” He looked up at the green canopy of the tree above us. “I feel like it doesn’t matter that he’s dead. Sammael and Lilith are alive. Merodach is still out there, and there’s no telling how many other demonic reapers are in league with them. I felt like it was in vain. Like nothing good came out of it anyway.”
I studied his face, the sorrow in his eyes. He was beautiful, even when he was sad. “That’s not true,” I said gently. “You’re free.”
His gaze slowly fell to mine and his eyes flashed. He watched me as I had just watched him, and a quiet smile curved his lips. “I suppose you’re right.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked. “Now that you aren’t doing Bastian’s bidding?”
He shrugged. “Live, I guess. Help you find that book maybe. Take up knitting. Who knows where the wind will take me?”
I made a serious face and nodded. “Knitting sounds right up your alley.”
He grinned and gave a soft laugh. “I hear it’s all the rage.”
We laughed, and after a few moments, an ache grew in my heart. “Thank you for everything, Cadan.”
“Of course.” His shoulders sank as if he knew where this was going.
“I can’t tell you how much it means to me,” I said. “How much you mean to me.”
“I feel a but coming.”
I sighed and purposely avoided using that word. “Will is my Guardian. We’ve been through so much together, and I’m in love with him.”
He didn’t reply right away, but his gaze fell to my lips for only a heartbeat before returning to my eyes. “I know, and it’s okay.”
“Are you okay, though?”
He gave me a beautiful smile. “I’ll never be okay. I’ll never stop wanting you, but… I can’t have you and I’ve accepted that.”
Sadness pulled me down like a churning undertow. “I’m sorry. I mean it. But you know that …” I trailed off, afraid of hurting him anymore with what needed to be said.
There was a curious little smile in the corner of his lips, and an icy hand squeezed my heart. “What?”
I took a deep breath and tried again. “You have to know that the only reason you feel like this is because of what I am.”
He shook his head, confusion filling his eyes like cold water washing away the opal flames. “What … you are?”
“The Preliator,” I continued painfully. “Gabriel. Because I’m an archangel. Nathaniel told me that it’s instinctive, this attraction, or whatever you want to call it.”
His smile vanished and his jaw set, muscles clenching. “Love.”
“Yeah,” I said, and my lip trembled with the word. “It’s an effect that the divine have over all reapers. It’s not real. It’s an infatuation.” That sounded so harsh, but it was true. At least, unlike most demonic reapers’, Cadan’s attraction was romantic instead of violent.
“And what about Will?” he asked almost defensively. “Is his love for you real?”