“I’m scared of starting over,” I admit. Now that I’ve opened the floodgates, the confessions won’t stop.
“You don’t have to start over. Just start from where you are, with what you have, and build from there.”
I close my eyes, focusing on the heat of the fire warming my skin and warding off the cold night air. Something profound shifts inside of me, and for the first time, the future doesn’t scare me so much. Whatever happens, wherever I go, I’ll figure it out.
Ambrose stands and pulls his chair back a few feet, gesturing for me to do the same. I do, and the thin, frigid night air envelops me, the heat from the fire just out of reach. But Ambrose shifts his chair until his shoulder is touching mine, and points to the night sky. It’s completely clear tonight, the stars like diamonds strewn across an inky black canvas. With no light pollution out here, the clarity of the night sky is breathtaking.
For the next hour, Ambrose points out various constellations in the darkness and tells me their stories from mythology.His voice, soft and soothing, calms the chaos in my heart. It’s late when we go back inside once the fire has died down, and my fingers are stiff and pink from the cold.
“Ambrose?” I murmur as we lay in his bed together, both on the edge of sleep.
“Yes?” His voice is heavy with sleep.
“I love you too.”
CHAPTER 41
I’ve been dreading this day. For the past few weeks, it has been a constant, lingering presence in my mind. I don’t want to face the angels, don’t want to give more excuses to not accept their bargains, but I’ve made my choice.
I don’t know if anything more will happen between Ambrose and me after the bargain has ended, but I can’t betray him like they want me to.
Somewhere in the time we’ve spent together, he’s become a friend. A companion. My partner in crime—literally.
I try not to consider the implications that my feelings for Ambrose might have on my mortal soul. If he really is a demon rebelling against an all-powerful God, I’ve certainly secured my place in Hell by falling for him and refusing to help the angels.
I’ve been too afraid to ask him for the truth, though. Not only would that require me admitting to having spoken with the angels, but I’m not sure I’dwantto know. They say that ignorance is bliss, but I’ve never quite understood the sayinguntil now. If I don’t know the truth, I can pretend that he’s being honest and live in my blissful ignorance.
If only my questions were so easily forgotten.
All of the life seems to have faded from the forest, the color seeped from the grass and the trees to create a dreary landscape of beige and brown. The leaves have fallen, and the wind howls through the bare branches as their limbs claw into the gray sky.
Winter will descend soon, and I’ve resigned myself to spending it huddled by the fireplace in the cabin instead of going out to collect lives, though I can no longer pretend to resent my presence here. In fact, the thought of listening to Ambrose’s low, calming voice read novels and poetry while snow blankets the world outside is exponentially more appealing than the alternative—being back at home for the holidays.
I won’t have to worry about feigning a smile that becomes painful with how hard I clench my teeth, nor will I have to play the docile hostess or doting wife.
This time, I can simply be me and enjoy slow afternoons and long nights with Ambrose.
My hair whips in the frigid wind as I approach the clearing at the end of the path. Still nobody in sight. I pause for a moment, wondering how long I should wait, until I notice the door to the church is slightly ajar.
They must be waiting inside. I guess it makes sense for angels to wait in church.
My heart races as I ascend the small set of stairs and peek through the crack in the door. Samuel and Elias are standing near the pulpit and speaking in hushed tones, clearly in disagreement about something.
Holding my breath, I attempt to train my ears on their conversation, but the wind makes it impossible to hearanything other than the note of frustration lacing their words.
Samuel shushes Elias as his head snaps toward the door. I haven’t moved—hell, I haven’t breathed—but he must sense I’m here somehow. Sighing, I push the heavy door, and it opens with a slow, high-pitched creak.
“Brielle,” Samuel greets me with a smile that’s simultaneously too wide yet doesn’t reach his eyes, his voice echoing through the dusty, dilapidated room. Elias simply nods toward me in acknowledgment.
“Hi, I can’t stay for long but didn’t want to keep you two waiting,” I lie. I have no other obligations today, but leaving them hanging seemed riskier than simply telling them I won’t help them.
“Oh?” Samuel raises his eyebrows. “Do you have plans to attend to?”
I swear he can see right through me, but I don’t falter despite my heart pounding against my ribcage. I wonder offhandedly if he can hear it from across the room.
“Nothing terribly significant, just dinner with a friend, but I don’t want to be rude by showing up late.” I flash a friendly smile, but he wears an expression of skepticism. To my credit, it’s not a complete lie—Ambrose and I are supposed to be cooking together tonight.
“Have you gotten us the information we need?”
