He nodded slowly. “Yes, that’ll do just fine.”
“I’m not your weapon,” Aya replied.
“Not yet,” he agreed. “But you will be.”
“Which leads us back to the training discussion. I’m not interested.”
“Who else is going to teach you the full range of your gifts?” he asked, his tone chiding.
“My father,” she offered. “My mother. Hell, Gabriel? Yeah, I’d allow him to teach me over you.”
“You don’t even know me, child.”
“I know what you’ve done. And actions speak far louder than words.”
“Actions,” he repeated. “Such as freeing Skye from my compulsion and creating a compound with the sole purpose of protecting your best friend during her weakest moments? Or how about the fact that I let you free your father?”
“You didn’t let me. We fought.”
He chuckled. “Sweet child, that wasn’t a fight but a training exercise. I don’t wish to hurt you. I need you. Just as you’re going to need me.”
“I think I’m doing just fine on my own.”
“Do you know what would have happened to Elizabeth had I not taken her when I did?” he countered, his dark brow arching upward again toward his bald head. “The council would have sent warrior Seraphim to Hydria to destroy her. No trial. No edict. Just a swift execution.”
“She’s a Seraphim,” Aya replied, her eyebrows pulling down. “She can’t die.”
He gave her an indulgent glance. “She’s not a pure-blooded Seraphim, Astasiya. But you’re right; she might have survived. Which would have been worse for her because they would have responded by throwing her into a reformation chamber to be reprogrammed. And her child would have suffered the same fate.”
Silence fell between them.
Do you believe him? Aya asked softly into Issac’s mind.
I think there’s a lot we don’t know yet about the Seraphim. However, Skye told Gabriel that the council would kill Elizabeth and the child. He also said they removed her wings as a punishment for not complying with their assignments. Neither event paints a kind picture where they’re concerned.
“There’s much you don’t understand. Do you know why I was exiled?” Osiris asked.
“You killed a Seraphim,” a feminine voice replied as a blonde female appeared beside him in a flurry of pale blue wings. Her face gave her away immediately, her defined cheekbones and pert chin both traits she’d given to her daughter.
Caro materialized into her corporeal form, her focus entirely on Osiris. “Touch my daughter and you’ll regret it,” she added, her tone lacking all emotion.
“I’m beginning to see why my son is so enamored with you,” the ancient male replied, blinking at her. “What Seraphim did I supposedly kill?”
“The name has never been mentioned, only the act.”
“Convenient,” he replied.
“Are you claiming innocence, Father?” Sethios asked, misting in on his other side, his black wings causing Issac’s eyebrows to lift. Gabriel hadn’t mentioned this development.
Black and blue wings, and yet I end up with pink feathers? Aya thought at him. Seriously?
Your feathers are opal, love.
They look pretty pink to me, she mentally muttered back at him.
Your parents are here with Osiris, and you’re still fretting over some pink plumes, Issac mused, his lips threatening to twitch.
It’s a good distraction, she admitted.
Yes, he agreed. And he imagined she needed it to keep her calm facade.
“Seraphim can’t die,” Osiris said. “How could I properly kill one?”
“You’re the Seraphim of Resurrection,” Caro replied. “You control life.”
“I do,” he agreed. “Life, but not death.”
“So you’re saying it’s not true?” Sethios pressed, his tone expressing serious doubt. “That you were exiled for another reason?”
“One day I’ll tell you my story,” Osiris said. “The real one. Perhaps then you’ll understand.”
“Why not today?” Aya asked him.
“Because Elizabeth needs you, and I desire her survival.” The stoicism in his tone reminded Issac of Gabriel. It was such a practical reply, confirming Osiris truly did have Elizabeth’s best interest in mind.
At least for the moment.
“I only wished to see you for a moment,” Osiris continued. “To express my desire to teach you. As I said, we’ll need each other very soon. And I would prefer to ensure you’re prepared for when that day comes.”
“What day?” Sethios asked, his hands tucked into his pockets in the picture of ease. It didn’t appear to be an act. As the male had spent thousands of years with his father, it made sense for him to know whether or not the ancient being posed an imminent threat.
That knowledge put Issac slightly more at ease.
But he kept his hands free just in case, his arm still touching Astasiya’s.
“You’ll see soon,” Osiris said, his black wings springing to