“My family, my loves,” I managed to sort of explain.
“I see. You don’t wish to leave them.” He reached out and stroked my arm. “That’s because you believe you have a choice.”
I jolted in the binds. “What do you—”
He pressed the fingers of his free hand to my lips. “Shh. I didn’t mean I would force you, or take any choice away from you.”
I started to calm.
He explained, “Theywill. The supernatural world. The populace. Those in governance. They will make it so. You will not be able to remain.” He removed his fingers from my lips while still stroking my arm soothingly, then gesturing at the binds. “Unless you are confined in this for all of time. And how would your family react to that?”
“They wouldn’t allow it.”
“Precisely. That would mean war raging unchecked. I told you earlier that Sylas Morgrave won’t survive your rise. This is what I meant. To overcome the forces amassed against you in order to remain on this plane without this imprisonment befalling you, you would have to rise beyond it, beyond those who intend to do you harm, who cannot stand your very existence. In doing so, they would react fiercely. Sylas would respond with appropriate force to bolster you. A necromancer of his caliber, especially when he carries Morien’s legacy, taking any high-level action of that magnitude, would be destroyed—the public’s current trust in him that he’s spent years earning would shatter. The higher echelons of the supernatural world would mobilize against him. You remaining on this plane is not only unsustainable because of public sentiment toward what you are, but it will bring about the downfall of Sylas, the rest of your family by extension, and even those three you have made the worrying decision to attach yourself to.”
“No,” I ground out, trying to push away the emotion his words had sent surging.
His hand left my arm and came up to stroke my cheek. “You’ve seen this yourself, yes? You’ve considered this? Is it not why you’re so incredibly careful? You are unquestionably gentleby nature, but the way you carry yourself among others, your refusal to engage in deeper mentoring with your Necromancy goes beyond that nature. It is about this very fear, yes?”
I swallowed hard and averted my eyes.
He made that impossible then as he grasped my face with both hands, then drew so close again, until all I could see was him. “You were right to fear it. This will come to pass. If you remain here. With me, when the time is right, they’ll all be safe. You’ll be safe, appreciated and understood. You’ll also be able to feel alive in the way I’ve allowed you to experience now.”
“When the time is right?”
“You need to allow Sylas to mentor you, further your necromantic abilities, grow your power.”
“To help Sanctus?”
“In part. Your Necromancy needs to be up to par, so you do not experience distress when you bond with the construct.” He tightened his hold on me, and I blinked, finding it hard to focus for more than a few seconds—except when he touched me or exerted pressure, it seemed. “However, you also must do so to protect yourself until you are ready to forsake this plane, until you have said your farewells appropriately to those you love.”
Off my look, the uncertainty I was feeling, he shook his head, assuring me, “No. I never intended to take you there against your will, or make you do anything not of your own volition. It will be your choice. You will most certainly have the chance to say your goodbyes. Despite what may be spoken about me because I don’t wield my power as others deem acceptable, I am very far from being a monster.” He smiled and stroked my skin with the pad of his thumb, infusing me with more heat. “And do not fret, you will be loved and adored in Sanctus. That is my vow to you. You’ll experience comfort, adoration, acceptance, and deep belonging. Eternally, Winter. There is a world that wants you, and that is mine.”
I frowned, trying to intake everything, and only managing it in bits and pieces. “What people say about you? I remember… Ketheron and Ambrose… they knew of you.”
“Your friend, Ambrose Wisteryn, considers any destabilization to the balance a threat. He doesn’t take into account that those can be positive. A mark of evolution. It’s simply the way he operates. Ketheron is imbued with knowledge of many True Celestials due to how he was forged. He will have pieces of information about me, which he’ll be using to form a whole, a whole that will not be accurate as he draws from opinion also, the fact that the Celestial Plane was displeased with me because I stood apart from their indoctrination. Keep in mind that the Severance proved their indoctrination was harmful to the mortal plane. Those here rejected it. The very thing, I myself rejected long before that came to pass. But, unlike those involved in the Severance who are heralded as heroic figures here these days—Ariana, Ketheron, Cassius—I was not afforded that mantle.”
“Does my father… did he know you when he lived there?”
“Cassius and I did interact several times during our time rooted to the Celestial Plane, yes. Alas, I believe he now shares the rhetoric of others, and he will likely refer to me as an abomination.” He shook his head sadly. “Just as the supernatural world refers to you. They do not do well with what stands apart, Winter. You and I have both suffered under that mentality. And even as time marches on, the painful lessons learned, they will still always default to that.”
“A perversion of Celestial power,” I murmured.
He arched an eyebrow. “Is that how Ketheron referred to me when you had him investigate my attempted bonding with you?”
I started. “How do you know about—”
“The investigation?”
I nodded.
He pressed his hands to my pecs, making me throw my head back as the most intense wave of that incredible soothing and animating heat rolled through me.
“I have merely been watching over you. It vexed me that I had to contact you that way initially, knowing it would likely unnerve you, and that you’d resist through misunderstanding and believing it was harm being visited upon you.”
“Yeah,” I groaned, the incredible feeling taking away the worry that had surged moments ago. “That makes sense. You didn’t have a choice.”
“Exactly, deathborn darling. My situation limited me. As did the suffocating control you live under through your family, and those in supernatural governance monitoring you all too invasively.” His fingers flexed on my chest. “Your family hasn’t told you about the many watchlists you’re on, have they? That even me spiriting you away just for a brief conversation today would have risked extreme action being taken against you if I had not concealed us. You see, it’s always one step away from you being acted upon. To being punished for just being what you are.”
