If Heaven tried to claim him as their own, they’d have to get through me first.
30
Melisande
I laughed all the way to the Nightside, playing with Tascius as we flew.
Demons from the upper Circles looked up as we soared overhead, drawn by the sight of white wings. Several warriors gathered below even as we flew on, clearly expecting attack by an archangel.
We didn’t have eyes for them. All that mattered was that he was complete now, that he could share the sky with me the way he was meant to.
His wings took on a pearly luminescence in the twilight of the Nightside, the opposite of my wings, which seemed to absorb light. I stroked his feathers as we landed inside the gates of my arena, amazed at how they were exactly like real wings.
I wanted to tell Wayland he was the greatest smith who’d ever lived, but his already-inflated ego might explode to epic proportions.
As soon as we hit the ground Tascius scooped me up, bending me over backwards in a long kiss.
I dimly realized we had an audience. A knot of silent Chainlings surrounded us, and my happiness curdled in my stomach as Tascius lifted me upright.
“What is it?”
The Chainlings were silent, their tension palpably radiating in a cloud. “My Lady… the Prince of Wrath has returned.”
One of them pointed inside with a shaking claw.
My mouth fell open, my chest suddenly feeling hollow, then I turned and raced for the arena doors with Tascius on my heels.
None of the warriors were present. Vyra stood in the middle of the arena, her arms wrapped around herself and eyes wide. Haru leaned against the wall, watching her from the corner of his eye. His sword was half-unsheathed, ready to cut through any intruders.
Vyra spun at the sound of my footsteps.
“Where have you been?” Her voice was tight with strain, and I didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger, but they defied me and opened even wider when she took in Tascius’s brilliant wings. “Belial came back.”
“When?” I stepped up, grabbing her shoulders. Belial had been here? I could almost smell his spicy scent on the air, imagining him so close.
“Only an hour ago,” she said, her gaze drifting back to Tascius. She seemed unable to keep her eyes off his wings. “Melisande, he…”
“He what?” I stroked her hair. She looked completely shocked, like she’d seen something horrible. I couldn’t regret going to the smith, but what had happened in my absence?
“He was covered in blood from head to toe. I’ve never seen him so bloody, unless he just came back from the wars…” She shuddered. “Blood everywhere. He left it on the floor.”
She pointed at small red splashes congealing on the obsidian floor.
“He brought-” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, looking miserable. “Oh, fuck, Melisande, I don’t know whose they are, but… it’s not good. Where did you go? Did you see him on the way? I haven’t seen Azazel or Lucifer for hours. They just vanished, and then Belial came in, dead silent, and he was carrying-” Vyra’s voice failed her again.
She was shivering. I rubbed her arms, and Haru rose off the wall, drifting nearer. His tails were twitching in unease, and his ears were laid flat against his head.
Vyra gave him a sharp look that stopped him in his tracks.
“Did you see him?” she asked me again.
“No, we were… at the smith’s…” I trailed off as I caught sight of what everyone was freaking out over.
Belial had mounted his prize over my throne.
My eyes traced the graceful curves of the familiar shape, the breadth of them, the sheen of a thin layer of gold.
An angel’s wings.
They were gilded, every feather perfectly limned, but I knew that beneath the gold the feathers had been a pure, icy white.
“Oh, what have you done?” I whispered, and Vyra shook her head.
“This could mean war,” she said quietly. “Heaven won’t let this go unpunished.”
I drifted closer, taking in the sight of those wings pinned to my wall like the spoils of war. They framed my throne perfectly, a halo of warning.
Fuck with me, and my man will cut off your most precious parts and give them to me as decoration.
A wild, almost feral smile split my face and I started laughing. There was a note of hysteria in it, but if those wings belonged to one of the fuckers who’d allowed Gabriel to push me...
“Melisande.” Tascius’s hand slid over my back. “We need to find Belial.”
Even if this brought the wrath of Heaven down on us, we were its equal. Let them bring it. We’d send them back in tears, if we bothered to let them keep their wings to fly home with at all.
I shoved a hand against my mouth to stop myself from laughing, and suddenly it wasn’t funny at all anymore. The bubble of emotion popped, and I knew what Vyra said was true.
Belial had killed a fucking archangel.
This was going to mean war.
“Yes,” I said, forcing myself to turn my back on those wings, even though I could’ve spent all day feasting on the sight of them. “Let’s go. Vyra, if Lucifer and Azazel come back, send them to the Brightside.”
She nodded, casting another fearful look at the wings on the wall. Tascius and I pulled the doors shut behind us and we exploded into the air, putting only a small amount of care into avoiding the abyss.
My breath was ragged as I took in the full ramifications of it. He’d left to murder an archangel, and if he was covered in blood, that hopefully meant he’d healed, that he hadn’t been permanently injured.
And all the signs had been right there. The swan-like feathers on Wayland’s table. I hadn’t thought twice… feathers from angels.
I sneaked a look at Tascius’s wings, and wondered how many feathers had been harvested
