Armaros shook beside me. It was the only logical reaction to something so good, so fiercely terrifying even angels shuddered in his presence. Had I still had my wings, they would be dripping with blood, in pain at his beauty.
“So, you may choose now.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “You can stay with your brothers here, guarding the planes, or you can die, your soul will be united with mine, but your body will be forfeited to another. Never again will you walk with your brothers on this plane, never again will you watch. But you will be whole.”
It was the final thread. He would sever the final link between me and my brothers. The only thing that kept us sane was each other and our creator. And now he was offering me Him, but without them.
How could I choose?
“Why?” I shook my head. “Why would you gift me with this after what I’ve done?”
HIs smile was blinding. “Because my plan is much bigger… than you.”
Tears filled Armaros’ eyes. “Go, brother. Go.”
“But—” I shook my head. “—those who watch… We all have a human plane to watch. It’s… it is our duty, our punishment. I cannot part from you!”
Armaros stood tall. “I will watch for you.”
Tears filled my eyes. I knew the toll I was asking him to endure just so my soul could return, the pain my brothers would suffer when my consciousness was taken from the fold. It would be an empty hole in their hearts for the rest of their lives.
“Go,” He said it again, urged me.
I looked to the Creator and gave him a single nod.
And felt nothing but peace.
“You will see him again,” The Creator whispered in the air, “but he will not be the same. He will need to make a choice just like the rest of you. But the immortal is powerful. He is… a Great Wolf. A warrior. He will do Gadreel proud.”
Armaros nodded.
And the vision faded.
I stumbled backward as Armaros’ eyes returned to a pale blue, and then he held out his hand and pressed it against my shoulder. “Welcome home, brother.”
I collapsed at his feet.
And howled.
SERENITY
I reached for Mason, but Armaros stopped me and gave his head a slight shake. “He may hurt you.”
“He—” I pointed down at a shaking Mason. “—is my mate!”
Armaros stumbled back and shook his dark hair; pieces of red lit up the tips. “That is impossible, you’re a…” He made a disgusted face like I was beneath him. “…a vampire.”
“Thank you, I wasn’t aware,” I said sarcastically.
“No,” Armaros whispered, “you don’t understand. What you are saying is… it is impossible!” He knelt by Mason and then offered him a hand. Each of the men were huge, from their black and red hair, to the worn jeans and shirts that looked way too small on them. Jackets covered their muscles, and tattoos lined their arms.
The tattoos that peeked out from Armaros’ arms were angelic markings in an ancient tongue few understood or dared speak aloud for fear they would be struck dead.
“I love her,” Mason’s gruff voice sounded. “She is my mate. She is the reason this happened to me!” He gripped his hair and looked down at his massive body as if it wasn’t incredible. A gift from The Creator for sure.
He had been beautiful before; his eyes had always held a certain fierceness, a deep-rooted sadness.
But now? Now he looked glorious.
“Angels do not mate with humans or immortals,” Armaros said in a deadpan voice. “What you have done will get you killed.”