“I’m not good enough,” he insisted, breaking down completely. “I wasn’t a good enough leader of Sanctuary, or a good enough mate to you… and I don’t know how to earn your forgiveness. Or your love.”
I laughed. “One thing I learned a long time ago, Grumpypants,” I said, wiping the tear away with my thumb, “is that grace is given by the Singer of All Songs to anyone who asks for it. Who needs it. Who am I to say Her way isn’t the best way? It doesn’t hurt me to forgive you; I already have. You only need to forgive yourself.”
I kept kissing him, and he sat quietly, allowing it. And then, when I sensed his sadness retreating, I opened my soul to his.
And he flew into mine on great wings of gold.
Chapter 26
Gavriel
Istared down at Feather who was sleeping again, deeply, on the wide bed. She was perfection. Small and silver, all slender limbs and silk skin. Though I loved to see her brilliant green eyes sparkling in mischief, when she was awake she moved constantly, like a bird. Her mind moved the same way, flitting from thought to thought, never hesitating to share what new topic had caught her interest. But what I had glimpsedin her soul had staggered me. For all her surface whimsy, at her root was a woman with so much love, she could carry the sun in her heart.
There was more than enough room for me and all the mates she might choose to share her deep passion and loyalty with.
But if she was perfection, I was a wreck. Mentally, I had never been so fractured. My own thoughts flew like excited swallows, swooping from one wild imagining to the next.
She had kissed me. Forgiven me, and offered grace. When she’d opened her soul to me, I had seen something more. Not love, not yet… but the beginnings of it.
My own love had surprised her. She hadn’t known how I’d longed for her since we met. Her spirit had suffused mine with wicked glee when she realized my soulfire was now as covered with glitter as my body. But the glitter was everything I loved about this woman. Every look, every smile, every movement of her graceful body. I had collected them all, and they were what made my soul shine.
We hadn’t made love. She hadn’t asked for that, and I was glad. Grateful not to have to find words to refuse her. For all that she had forgiven me, I had not been able to let go of my guilt and shame.
“She’s growing weaker,” Rafe whispered. We’d worked quietly together to seal the portal to Earth, using both of the soul knives, which provided all the material we needed but no more. This time, he’d instructed me on how to melt them down and form the seal. It felt like old times with my teacher.
“She was right about us merging. I’m able to funnel my energy more efficiently to her now.” I tucked the naming chime into the pocket of the trousers I’d borrowed from Mikhail’s wardrobe. They were too large, even with the belt, but most of the glitter had come off. There was no need to stay covered now. The shadows knew where I was—and it sounded as if they wereall right outside. I could feel the new lock I’d placed on the door beginning to give. Or possibly the door itself.
“Feather’s plan won’t work,” Rafe murmured. The glitter had been for a distraction. She had noticed the shadows were confused by the reflected light bouncing off the stuff, and had formulated an amorphous plan that had us scattering it around, to draw shadows away while we traveled to the Great Gate. “We’ll have to fight our way out,” he continued. “They know I’m with you, though, so we’ll both be fighting.”
“We have no weapons, Rafe. We’ll be walking out to our doom.”
“I have these,” he replied, holding up his clawed hands. “I will admit to missing my armor, not that I would take it back if it meant forgoing her touch.”
“She’s exquisite, Rafe.” My heart was racing as I stared down at her. “Her soul is magnificent. How did I not see?”
His hand landed on my shoulder. “She was right. You need to forgive yourself.”
I shook my head. “I may not need to earn her forgiveness. But I will have to earn my own.”
“Here, look what I found.” He grabbed a box that was around ten inches square. “I’d bet there’s brandy in it. Mikhail always was a bit of a hoarder.”
I snorted. “He still is.” The box wouldn’t open, though, and the lock was unusually intricate. “Huh. I can’t get in.” I tried all the usual words of power, and then mumbled Feather’s name over it. The naming chime hummed in my pocket when I got to the part where she’d renamed me. Rafe sniggered, and I glared at him.
“Hey, you’re lucky she didn’t name you Gavriel the Goatfudger. I think she was considering it.”
I shuddered in mock horror. “At least my name isn’t ‘Anaconda Pants.’” Rafe didn’t reply; he was staring at the box,an odd expression on his face. “What is it?” I asked, but he’d already begun singing his name.
“I am Seraphiel, First of the Celestial Children, Bringer of Hope to the Hopeless, known as Rumple, Teacher and First Love of Feather—” He stopped, since the box had snicked open at the end of the word Hopeless. “My old name,” he said quietly. “This box has been closed for some time.”
There was a strange eagerness in his voice, and when he opened the wooden lid, I smiled as widely as he did.
“My feathers,” he whispered, lifting the two items from the sapphire velvet cushion inside. They were crystalline and as perfect as the day he’d left the realm. The smallest dusting of gold fringed the edges, reminding me of the glitter that had pervaded the entire place.
“I gave him my one to hold after Arabella fell,” I murmured. “I didn’t know where he put it, but he assured me they were both safe. Rafe, with two of your feathers, if we can get you to Mikhail?—”
His swirling dark gaze held flecks of red as he interrupted. “False hope isn’t a kindness, Gav. You know as well as I that I’ll never be allowed into the Celestial Realm again.” He extended his wings the smallest bit, and his tail wrapped around the table leg. I wasn’t certain he even controlled that part of his body; it seemed more independent than was comfortable to think about. “Can you imagine? They’d think I was the ‘glittering beast, laying waste to the realm.’” He was trying to inject some humor into the conversation, but it fell flat.
“Was that a true vision?” I asked. “You wrote it down in your first book, after all. I figured it wasn’t a practical joke.”
