Astasiya unprotected. She may be able to take care of herself, but she still requires my guidance. And that of her mother, too.”
He’s magnificent, Caro thought, pride flourishing inside her at the sight of her son refusing to give his father an inch. He was still so young, and yet he appeared positively ancient in that moment.
If Adriel felt similarly, he didn’t show it. Instead, he took his son’s measure, his mint-colored irises flaring with knowledge and power. “You will convince Astasiya to answer our edict,” he said. “Once that happens, we will discuss your future with the Seraphim.”
“You’re not exiling him?” a feminine voice demanded as Silvia appeared in a flurry of soft yellow feathers that were a stark contrast to her darker complexion.
“Not yet. He has four weeks to comply with my edict. If Astasiya does not appear before the council by that point, then we will reconvene to discuss our verdict.”
“And Caro?” she pressed.
Adriel glanced down at the woman in question, his expressionless face giving nothing away. “She will accompany him in an effort to guide the infant Seraphim appropriately. We’ll discuss her fate in four weeks as well.”
Gabriel nodded, his swords dissolving into the air. “Then we had better get started.” He misted to Caro’s side, his hand grabbing hers. “I’ll deliver an update in four weeks’ time, either with Astasiya or alone.”
He didn’t wait for confirmation, his power wrapping around her in a protective cloak of energy and forcing her to move with him through time and space.
Caro?
I’m fine, she said. Gabriel is misting me, and I don’t appreciate the sensation.
That I understand, he replied, his words stirring amusement inside her without a source. There was some memory tied to that—a memory she couldn’t yet access. I’m coming to you, angel.
Coming to me, how?
You’ll see, he whispered. Be ready.
“Take me to Caro.” Sethios held out his hand. “Now.”
Vera narrowed her silver eyes at him—eyes that turned blue green as her feathers sprang to life. “I hope this hurts.”
“It will,” he promised. “But it’s worth it.”
Her lips twitched then. “Yes. On that, perhaps, we agree.” She pressed her palm to his, whisking them away from Hydria to the location Ezekiel had texted her moments ago.
For whatever reason, Gabriel wanted them all to meet at Ezekiel’s place, not in Hydria. While Caro and Gabriel had fought the council—or whatever had just happened—Sethios, Vera, and Leela had chatted about how to proceed.
They’d agreed that Astasiya should remain in Hydria with her friend and Issac while Sethios assessed Caro’s mental state.
From what he’d gathered thus far, her memories weren’t fully intact. So while she understood the bond, she didn’t seem all that engaged with it. Almost as though she’d forgotten that she owned his heart.
He would happily remind her of that fact the moment he saw her. And if she put up a fight, he’d enjoy taking her back to the beginning of their relationship with a few carefully crafted commands.
The misting subsided, revealing a black night sky littered with stars. It was similar to the late-night hour in Greece, only his feet were now covered in snow.
He frowned, his stomach beginning to churn as his body caught up with the teleportation effect brought on by his “flight” with the Seraphim. It always left him queasy. “Where are we?” he asked, his voice strained as he fought his body’s need to vomit.
Ugh, he hated how weak this made him feel. One day, he’d master it. Hopefully when he grew his own wings.
“About an hour east of Reykjavík,” Ezekiel replied as he traced to his side in the middle of what appeared to be a field of absolutely nothing.
His best friend waited a beat, then nodded. “Right, we need to go for another hop.” This time he grabbed Sethios and whirled him through space to the final destination—or what he hoped was the final destination. At least Ezekiel’s ability didn’t stir up the need to retch everywhere. Perhaps because the duo had traveled together in this manner for years.
They materialized inside a warm home beside Skye in the kitchen, where she removed a whistling kettle from the stove. “Tea?” she offered without looking at them.
“Yes, please,” Ezekiel said, his voice soft and holding a touch of emotion in it.
A few decades ago, Sethios would have called him on it. Tonight, however, he left the assassin to his unrequited love problem.
It wasn’t necessarily that Skye didn’t love him back so much as she couldn’t return his affection. She just seemed incapable