In the force of movement, Angelus Lux drops to the ground.
My wolves are already leaping into position behind me. Blitz, the fastest, bolts for the weapon, but Haldi is closer, swooping down, her wings beating strongly as her light flares around her body. Her light drives Blitz and the other wolves back, allowing her to snatch Angelus Lux from the ground.
She soars upward with a triumphant smile, rejoining Galvin, who shuts down his power and floats back to the ground with her.
Roman groans where he lies beneath me. “No.”
His denial is drowned in the stomach-sinking sound of cracking.
Above us, the dark canopy we created trembles, and hairline cracks ricochet across it from the point where Haldi’s attack was the most intense.
I prepare for the worst, but the canopy holds.
Roman’s hands shake, his skin badly damaged, but he wraps an arm around me and raises us both to a crouch.
Only Malia has remained within the light while Koda, Taniya, and my wolves now huddle around me. Normally, they would surge forward to face a threat like the angel army. Their retreat must be instinctive and protective of the energy they have left, which is a very worrying sign.
None of us can survive the light now. We’re too depleted.
I’m sure the angels fucking know it.
Haldi touches ground, not taking her eyes off us as she twists the clasp on Angelus Lux back to the symbols representing the angels’ realm. Then she hands the weapon back to a waiting angel, who takes to the air and hurries away into the moonlight.
Apparently satisfied that Angelus Lux is safe again, Haldi strides forward, her double-bladed sword drawn, her white wings partially spread. The moonlight reflects off her feathers and her armor, and the impact of a mere glint is nearly too much for me.
“You will not leave this place,” Haldi says, her smile cold.
At the sound of her voice, my demon wolves rally, snarling at the mauve-eyed angel, although they remain where they are. Keeping to the dark.
Malia is poised on her front foot, her power continuing to stream from her fingertips and around Jareth, but the brightness of her gaze intensifies. I can’t anticipate what she’s thinking or hopes to do, and right now, all of her energy must be focused on keeping Jareth under control, but I know she’ll act if she can.
Haldi snorts as she points her sword at Roman and then at me. “It’s a shame to see the Master of Demon Runes and the Daughter of Jareth so faded. But I’m afraid there was no other way to protect our world—or the fate of the three worlds.”
“You knew we’d die here,” I snarl.
“Of course.” She makes a disgusted face at my accusation. “Did you take us for fools, allowing demons to enter our land?”
“Not fools,” I say. “I thought you believed in love and hope. Compassion and redemption.”
“Oh, we do.” She gestures around herself. “We believe in love, hope, and the protection that our world gives us. We didn’t need to fear you.”
“Let us go,” I say, trying to reason with her. “Our deaths would be meaningless now.”
“I disagree,” Haldi says.
Galvin and the other angels nod, their feathers fluttering in the breeze as they continue to grip their double-bladed swords, their wings spread and ready for a fight. I recognize among them the two angels who served us breakfast. They stand close behind Haldi, their beautiful faces glowing in the moonlight, their bodies clad in gleaming gold-and-ivory armor.
There’s one angel I don’t see, and it baffles me: Adriel.
I smother a sigh. This world has mystified me enough. I can’t even begin to guess the reason for his absence.
“Your deaths will ensure that the Balance between the three worlds is restored,” Galvin says, speaking up beside Haldi. His skin is so white that I have to squint to focus on him. “The Elimination will be at an end and Esta will reign over Pyra-Mortem. Peace will resume and that will be the end of it.”
“Peace?” I snap. “With Esta? If you think that, then you really are fools. Under her rule, Pyra-Mortem will tear itself apart and Stella-Astrum will burn with it.”
Along with Earth.
Galvin’s lips press together, and Haldi’s brow furrows. They don’t immediately respond, and I sense I’ve hit on their own niggling doubts.
