“Life isn’t fair, it justis.” Mags sighed. “You faced this choice once. Tell me, why didn’tyourun?”
He stubbornly avoided her measured, probing gaze. “That was different.”
“How?”
“Because no one was going to missme.”
“We both know that isnottrue, Lucifer Morningstar.”
He swallowed harshly. “Mags, please. Don’t put me through this. You and the Fallen are all I have left.”
“You can still have your son. That’s the point of all of this; saving him.” She looked away. “And I love you too Luce, but I can’t live my life based on what’s best for you. I have to do this for myself, and for my conscience.”
Luce went very still, and then he nodded. He crossed the room swiftly and dropped a kiss onto her hair, resting his forehead on hers. “Then I’ll have to beg your forgiveness.”
“What?”
“Sleep, Mags.” He blew gently on her brow and her eyes closed abruptly, head lolling as she dropped into unconsciousness. Scooping her into his arms, Luce carried her to the bed and laid her down carefully, drawing the duvet up over her. Settling onto the edge of the mattress, he frowned at how small and fragile she looked, almost swallowed up by the piles of pillows and blankets. She would be furious with him when his spell wore off, but by then he would have a plan—something to appease his brother so he called off her bounty.
“Dream easy, little sister.” He stroked her hair softly, before drifting out and sealing her door behind himself with a locking rune. “I promise I will save us all.”
Uriel woke feeling like he had just run a marathon with iron weights on his limbs. He blinked in confusion for a moment, taking in the sterile room and the warm sunlight dappling the floor, and then the events that had led him here came back to him.
“Michael.” He sat up abruptly, wincing at the dull ache in his left arm. He blinked blearily down at it, at the fresh scar that ran in a pale curve around his bicep and halfway toward his forearm. “Well, shit.”
“I think it makes you look dashing,” a soft voice spoke from his left, startling him.
“Saints above, Gloriana!” he swore, placing a hand to his racing heart. “I was just healed and you’re trying to kill me!”
“Sorry.” She smiled, dimples flashing. “I know you’re recovering, but I was hoping to ask about…”
Uriel watched her fidget on her little stool beside his bed, the smile faltering as she averted her gaze and chewed on her thumb nail.
“Jophiel,” he finished.
“Yes.”
Uriel sighed, tossing back the sheet and swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. “I thought you two were speaking again?”
She looked away. “It’s… complicated. He’s so distracted by his devotion to Gabriel; I hardly hear from him anymore.”
“Maybe the distance is good for you,” Uriel hedged, but Glory still recoiled.
“How can it be when all I think of is him? Worrying if he’s safe, if he’s happy, if he thinks of me. Wondering if I’ll ever see him again, or if he evenwantsto see me?”
“I’m sure he does,” Uriel tried to soothe her, hauling himself from the bed to lay a hand on her shoulder. “You’re his sister, his twin.”
“But I chose Lucifer,” she sighed. “I left him behind. He was furious, Uri, you didn’t see his face that day…”
“I didn’t, but I’m sure he still loves you. You two were always so close, I can’t see him giving up on that.”
She pulled her hair over her shoulder, twining and untangling the golden strands to occupy her hands. “Tell me he’s okay?”
“He is well,” Uriel assured her, pacing in a small circle to wake up his muscles as he worked his arm to test the mend. “As dramatic and vain as always. Spends his free time lounging about, complaining that he’s bored.”
This drew another small smile. “Ah, so nothing has changed much at all.”
The sound of a door slamming interrupted Uriel’s reply, and he instinctively drew Glory behind him as they whirled around. Michael blinked in surprise at the door that had been flung against the wall, examining his hands as if they had acted without his consent before stepping inside and gingerly shutting the door behind him.
