The hissing inhabitants of the place slithered over Lore’s boots. He toed them out of his way and crossed to the throne.
The male looked up, dark hair spilling over his face, hiding his features. Not that Lore cared what he looked like or who he was. “Why do I not have my powers?” he growled. “What did you do to me?”
So, he didn’t remember what happened?
“You chose to kill an innocent under my watch.”
Despite being strung up and burned, his entire body stiffened. His expression turned stone-cold. “I follow orders. Mortals are insignificant in the long term. If the seraphs deem one should be annihilated, so be it. And with good reason, too…” His eyes narrowed. “Shedid something to me!”
He growled and shook a shoulder, dislodging a serpent winding itself around him. “The moment I get out of here, she will die. So will the male who spat fire at me.”
Without his powers, the angel’s emotions broke free. And he was still anasshole, as Nia would say. While the throne wouldn’t deviate from a kill order, going after a Guardian? The angel was suicidal.
Lore summoned his heavenly sword. The enormously long weapon appeared in his hand in a blinding flash, sizzling with power.
“Untie me,” the Throne snapped. “We will fight.”
“As you wish.” With a wave of his hand, Lore released him.
The male lifted his hand to summon his sword, and nothing appeared.
Lore watched him coldly. He summoned another sword and tossed it, the flying steel glinting beneath the moonlight. The male caught and flipped the huge weapon with deadly ease. He flew at Lore, blade arching.
Lore countered, the sound of clashing steel echoing in the silent forest. The force of the collision reverberated through his arm. The Throne feinted left, then whirled to the right, aiming a lethal strike at Lore’s legs.
He leaped back and thrust hard, skewering the Throne in his chest. “That’s for abducting her.” He yanked his sword free, the metal dripping with plasma. The male stumbled. “How does it feel to face someone so much stronger whileyouare powerless?”
With a snarl, the angel responded with a series of strikes. Lore blocked them and spun, his blade swinging in a deadly whine, slicing the Throne across the belly.
The throne staggered back a step, eyes widening in shock. Then blood gushed from his gut like a broken faucet. A guttural groan tore free.
“That’s for hitting her, and the terror and pain you put her through.”
The angel’s weapon fell, and he hunched over, trying to keep his belly closed and guts in. “Y-You would dare kill your own kind?”
“For her, I would dare anything.”
He snarled and tried to flash.
“For daring to come after a female who is mine, your life is forfeited.” Lore swung his blade and decapitated him.
The throne’s head rolled to the ground, knocking into the hissing snakes and scattering them. His knees buckled, and his body collapsed, blood spraying from his neck. A blinding white light shot up into the sky as his soul departed.
The next instant, the body and head vanished, along with the gore covering the ground, leaving only the decaying branches, moldy leaves, and hissing serpents.
Anger still rolled through him, wanting more heads for this travesty of calling a hit on an innocent. Jaw hard, Lore dismissed both swords and dematerialized to the Celestial Realm to face the Supreme Seraph.
Back in his pristine whites, Lore waited on the banks of the gently undulating Arcane River in the Celestial Realm. He hoped Chamuel would get there soon.
The soft splash of falling water enclosed him like a net, suffocating him. Clouds floated above, and radiant light streamed over everything with an endless serenity.
Under different circumstances, he would have waded into the water permeated with the essence of purity to wash away the lingering touch of other realms and absorb its divine energy. With the kind of job he had, he often did and had never questioned it.
Now he just sighed, tired of it all. Still, he had to observe his usual stoicism for a few more minutes.
He might wear a halo, but he wasn’t kind of heart. He had no heart or emotions until Nia crossed his path. And now, she possessed every inch of that organ thudding against his sternum?—
Why, why couldn’t you love me, even a little?
