Obsidian’s knees weakened when he saw the Jagdkommando dagger. It was one of the deadliest knives in existence. The triple-edged blade was seven inches long and curved, thick enough to penetrate quickly. Once impaled in the heart, the victim would bleed out in seconds, death imminent.
The victim being the female Obsidian adored.
Ignoring the dagger and the uninvited guest, he inhaled deeply, trying to clear his mind.
“It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do,” Michael said, his voice low, sympathetic.
“And how do you know this?” Obsidian snarled, lifting his gaze and pinning Michael with a glare hot enough to melt steel.
“Because I’ve been where you are, warrior.”
Obsidian frowned. He’d known the archangel his entire life, not once had he heard that Michael had found hisamsouelot. Then again, the male wasn’t open about his personal life, not even with Obsidian.
“You will survive this. As will she.”
“Why?” Obsidian’s voice cracked. “Why must I take her life?”
“To prove your faith, warrior. To prove your worth, not only to God but to your mate. I will watch over her at all times,” Michael promised. “I will ensure she makes it back to you.”
Though the promise should’ve consoled him, it did nothing to ease the constriction in his chest. Not even when Michael vanished, leaving Obsidian alone.
Dropping to his knees once more, Obsidian felt the coldness seep through him as the tears fell unbidden.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wednesday, August 14, 2019
“RELAX,” ACADIAURGEDASSHEBRUSHEDOUTPenelope’s hair.
Penelope barked a mirthless laugh. “Easy for you to say.”
The Fae met Penelope’s eyes in the mirror. “You’re right. I apologize.”
She huffed. “Don’t apologize.”
While Penelope dealt with the anxiety twisting in her gut, Acadia had spent the past half hour preparing her for this ritual. After dressing her in a gauzy white gown that looked as though it should be worn by a virgin sacrifice, the fairy had dolled up her face with makeup even as Penelope wondered why she bothered, why Acadia was going through all the trouble considering she was about to die, other than it offered her a distraction she desperately needed.
“Leave it down,” she said when Acadia reached for a pin. “Obsidian likes my hair down.”
Acadia smiled at her in the mirror. “You’re right. He does.”
The Fae dragged her slender fingers through Penelope’s hair once more, settling it over her shoulders.
“I know you’re stalling,” Penelope told her. “It won’t do any of us any good for you to do that.”
Penelope’s belly fluttered with nerves, which seemed a bit awkward for a woman who was about to walk to her own death. She should’ve been terrified, cowering in the corner, pleading for her life. Only, there was a sense of peace inside her that both shocked and confused.
“Not stalling, per se. More like passing time. I saw Obsidian’s face. I know he’s dreading this. Rightfully so.”
She heard the pain in Acadia’s voice, felt it echoing inside her. Penelope couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling. Nothing in this world could ever give her the strength to take his life. Even the thought made her chest ache.
“How does anyone do this?” she mused, staring at her reflection.
“Love is powerful,” Acadia said softly. “Makes us do things we’d never imagined we would do. Gives us strength when it feels futile, gives us hope when everything seems hopeless. It’s the one thing so many take for granted.”
Penelope’s gaze flipped to the Fae. “You’ve found love before, haven’t you?”
Acadia swallowed. “I have, yes. But it wasn’t meant to be.”
