Chapter 3
The sun pours through the large arched window behind the desk, momentarily blinding me as I step across the threshold into the office.
Even in the dead of summer, a roaring fire crackles, casting warmth throughout the room and drawing out the icy feelings that swirl within me.
Leather couches fill the area, and large bookshelves line the walls.
Through the sunlight, I can just make out a figure sitting with his hands propped on the black desk in the center of the room.
“Mara,” a deep voice calls through the light.
I sense Shaw’s presence behind me as I stop before the desk, not a trace of hesitation coursing through my veins.
The figure gradually rises, and large wings extend to his sides as Lowell’s face comes into view.
He hasn’t aged a day since I last saw him, which isn’t surprising since most immortal angels stop aging around thirty-five.
However, due to his old age, faint lines have begun to crease his forehead, showing both his age and wisdom.
Long white hair falls past his shoulders in a perfect half-up style. Not a single hair is out of place, and a beard covers his jaw. I remember how I look in comparison to his perfect appearance, which I’m sure only draws more attention to my disheveled state.
He glides around the corner of his desk toward me.
I remain calm, waiting for my next move to be dictated by his.
Bright white teeth gleam behind his smile, creasing the corners of his green eyes.
His large arms extend in line with his wings as he wraps them around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
“I’m thrilled at your return, Mara.” Lowell pulls away, placing both arms on my shoulders.
He towers over me, but I don’t let the height difference intimidate me in the slightest. I let confidence run through me, even though a fight with him wouldn’t end well. I may be cocky, headstrong, and lethal, but I’m not stupid.
“Shaw, thank you for her safe return,” Lowell says, glancing at the angel standing behind me. “Please, both of you, have a seat.”
He gives me another smile before releasing my shoulders after a firm squeeze that I know isn’t a sign of endearment but a reminder of his strength.
His large, white wings nearly drag on the ground as he makes his way back around the desk, sitting down with a grace only angels of his stature could possess.
After he’s settled, he gestures for us to take the two large chairs that are built to accommodate wings as needed. I lower myself to a seat, never taking my eyes off Lowell, and he smiles, studying me carefully.
“You look... tired, Mara,” Lowell says. “I’ve never seen you this way.”
I clear my throat. “I didn’t get much rest in prison, Elder.”
“That’s unfortunate.” He narrows his eyes. “I hope you sleep better now you’ve returned to us, for both your sanity and appearance. And please, Mara, there’s no need for such formalities; we're just having a chat as friends.”
“We’re friends?” I respond, and Shaw tenses beside me.
“Of course we are, Mara.” Lowell smiles. “Even after all this time, I’m ensuring you are okay. Do you doubt my intentions?”
I maintain a numb expression and clear thoughts. “No. I would never doubt you.”
Lie.
The Elder of the Lyre Order would never reach out from the goodness of his heart. He has a motive—a reason for pulling strings to get me out of prison—and I want to know exactly what he intends for me.
Shaw speaks next, and I appreciate his eagerness to jump in. “Sir, I’m not trying to interrupt, but I was supposed to tell you—Elder Carver Bannermin has requested a meeting with you. I didn’t want the news to slip my mind, as I was only informed just before picking up Mara.”
Lowell gradually shifts his gaze from mine to Shaw and nods. “What perfect timing.”
For the first time in Lowell’s presence, I stiffen at the mention of Carver Bannermin’s name.
He is the leader of the Jade Order and is notoriously a dick—handsome, but a dick.
To my knowledge, there is only one person worse than Carver, and that is his son, Crew—a demon hybrid.
The Bannermins are arrogant, deceitful, and disgusting as far as I’m concerned.
Lowell lowers his head for a moment to read a notification that flashed across his phone on the desk.
Shaw mouths, “Sorry, it was important.”
I widen my eyes at him and whisper, “What is it about?
The Elder puts the phone in his pocket and raises his head to look at us again, smiling.
“Mara, I am thrilled that you are back. We will begin your evaluations tomorrow evening, just as you did when you joined the Order twelve years ago.”
I shift in my seat. “Sure. That’s fine and all, but can we discuss the reason I’m here?”
Lowell angles his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
I can’t hide the annoyance on my face. “The real reason you pulled me out of prison?”
Lowell stands and begins to collect a few items from his desk.
He taps the papers against the wood to align them before placing them in a drawer, locking it with a click.
“Mara, something has happened regarding the Ren Order—with their Elder. His wife was killed. We have every suspicion that the Voids are behind her death, and we fear more deaths will follow. All Orders are involved in this… issue, and your skills are needed.” Lowell avoids eye contact.
“I will discuss this further when we have more time, but I need to get going. Something has come up.”
We stand as he strides past us and opens the wide doors to his office. I furrow my brows and move toward the exit with Shaw on my heels, feeling more lost than I was before I entered this office. I pause beside Lowell and stare at him, praying he tells me more.
He pauses, feeling my glare. “We also have every suspicion that the Grim himself is not playing fairly anymore.”
I let the words sink in, like a cold bath washing over me.
“And this involves me?” I angle my head.
Lowell nods. “It does now.”
“How so?”
“Your abilities could be of use.”
I make an unamused face toward the Elder.
“Don’t act surprised. I trained you myself.” He smirks.
I shift on my feet, unable to stand still due to the anxiety creeping in, because no, I’m not surprised.
Lowell knows I’ve seen the Grim. With all the death on my hands, it was only a matter of time before I made the mistake of telling him years ago.
However, up until recently, it remained a secret.
“Great.” The sarcastic tone slips out, earning a harsh look from both Lowell and Shaw.
“Tomorrow, we will begin with strength and speed, followed by mental evaluations to ensure you are in shape for your upcoming assignment.” Lowell places his hand on my shoulder, guiding me through the threshold. “See you at 5 P.M.”
Lowell slams the door in my face, and with the separation between us, I let all the emotions flood through my body, beginning with anger.
I spin on my heels and walk down the hallway toward the opening of the grand staircase. Shaw follows close behind, and I delve into my thoughts.
It's no surprise that Lowell is being secretive.
It’s perfectly fine for him to keep things to himself, but if we do it, we face punishments.
The anger bubbles in my chest, and the urge to transform fills me once more, but I send a surge of calm through my system to dull my feelings.
As angels, we can alter emotions—our own and those of mortals—however, we do not have the ability to alter other angels or demons.
It’s up to the hybrid to control their own emotions.
It’s fantastic in dire or stressful situations, but it’s a dangerous power to toy with, as burying things for too long can result in a permanent shift.
Over time, one can completely change who they are. This is often why older angels are seen as calm, wise, and numb—because they are. Centuries of dulling one’s emotions will change you.
“Well, it could have been worse,” Shaw says from behind me, and I realize what he’s talking about. “He seems happy you’re back.”
I don’t respond.
I let my thoughts run wild. Before I left, there wasn’t a sentence spoken in this Order that I wasn’t aware of. Lowell kept me close and informed, but it seems Shaw has taken over my spot here.
I replay his words in my mind.
Carver-fucking-Bannermin is not someone we need to deal with right now, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what Lowell would need to discuss with him, though he did explain that all Elders are involved in something for the first time in centuries.
It’s all such odd timing, and I can’t shake the unsettling feeling churning in my core.
“I don’t think Lowell is excited I’m back. I think he’s desperate,” I say calmly, thankful for the power that feels like a drug running through my veins. “He knows the rumors that will spread from my early release.”
“You need to stop doing that,” he responds. “That’s the second time today. You know the risks. Plus, we aren’t to speak of your return to anyone outside of the Order.”
“Yeah, right.” I glance back at him and huff, knowing this news will spread like wildfire.
I move toward Shaw’s bedroom, passing each identical door as muscle memory takes over.
The calmness begins to fade in my veins, and the agonizing grip of emotions creeps back.
One unfortunate downside of this ability is that it never lasts long enough, forcing us to rely on it repeatedly, risking addiction to the blissful calm.
“Mara,” Shaw shouts from behind me, and I pause in front of his door. “Please, talk to me.”
I stare into his hazel eyes and watch his beautiful face twist with concern.
Through it all, he’s been by my side. A friend—now family—who has never left, no matter how unbearable I become.
As my emotions creep back in, I grab his biceps and throw open his door, tugging his large body through the threshold and slamming the door behind us.