Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
Uriel
The cool night air whispers against my skin as I pace the length of my bedroom’s terrace. The stone is smooth beneath my bare feet, still warm from the day’s sun. I’ve shed my suit jacket and tie, the top buttons of my shirt undone in a rare moment of dishevelment. My fingers run through my hair for the hundredth time, leaving it in disarray.
I can’t settle. Can’t find that center of calm that has been my constant companion for millennia. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. Emilia. The curve of her smile, the warmth in her eyes, the way that red dress clung to every...
No. I shake my head violently, as if I could physically dislodge these unwelcome thoughts. This is madness. I am Uriel, Archangel of Chastity. I do not have these... feelings. These wants. These utterly human desires that threaten to consume me.
And yet.
I pause at the balustrade, gripping the cool stone until my knuckles turn white. The grounds of the estate stretch out before me, a sea of silver-bathed trees under the full moon. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. Everything that I am not in this moment.
How did I get here? How did I go from barely tolerating Ms. Thornton’s presence at the hospital to... this? This ache in my chest when I think of her. This ridiculous urge to go to her room, to see if she’s sleeping peacefully, to brush that wayward strand of hair from her face...
“Enough!” I growl, the word echoing in the still night air.
I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe deeply. In. Out. In. Out. I reach for that well of celestial calm, that divine purpose that has guided me for so long. But it feels... distant. Muffled. As if something is interfering with the connection.
Or someone.
The thought sends a chill through me. Is this part of the prophecy? Some nefarious plot to distract me from my duty? To make me... feel things I have no business feeling?
But even as I grasp at this explanation, I know it’s a lie. The way Emilia affects me... it’s too real. Too raw. Too... human.
And that terrifies me more than any demonic horde ever could.
The sudden vibration of my phone nearly startles me out of my skin. I fumble for it, grateful for the distraction, until I see the name on the screen.
Raphael.
For a moment, I consider ignoring it. But I know my brother. He’ll only keep calling until I answer. With a sigh, I swipe to accept the call.
“Uriel! There you are!” Raphael’s voice booms through the speaker, far too cheerful for this hour. “What’s this I hear about you taking a leave of absence? Are you dying? Wait, can we even die? This isn’t like that time in Pompeii, is it? Because I told you, brother, sometimes a volcano is just a volcano...”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a very human headache building. “Raphael. Breathe.”
There’s a pause, then a chuckle. “Right, sorry. But seriously, Uri, what’s going on? Michael said you just up and left the hospital. That’s not like you at all.”
I lean against the balustrade, looking out over the moonlit landscape. How do I even begin to explain this? “It’s... complicated,” I say finally.
“Complicated?” Raphael’s tone is incredulous. “Uri, you alphabetize your sock drawer. You color-code your calendar. You once spent three days reorganizing the entire angelic filing system. You don’t do ‘complicated’.”
I can’t help but smile at that. He’s not wrong. “Things change, brother.”
“Things change?” Now he sounds truly alarmed. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with our Uriel?”
I sigh, running a hand through my already disheveled hair. “Raphael, I... I can’t explain everything right now. Just know that I’m dealing with a... situation. It’s under control.”
Even as I say the words, I know they’re a lie. Nothing about this feels under control.
“A situation,” Raphael repeats slowly. “Does this situation have anything to do with a certain feisty social worker? Because I couldn’t help but notice she’s taken a leave of absence too...”
My grip on the phone tightens. “How did you?—?”
“Please,” Raphael scoffs. “You think I don’t keep tabs on my favorite troublemaker?”
I close my eyes, cursing silently. Of course he knows. Raphael always knows. “It’s not what you think,” I say, knowing how weak it sounds.
“Oh? And what exactly do I think, brother dear?”
I can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Raphael, I’m warning you?—”
“Relax, Uri,” he cuts me off, his tone softening. “I’m not judging. I’m just... concerned. This isn’t like you.”
The genuine worry in his voice catches me off guard. For a moment, I’m tempted to tell him everything. About the prophecy, about Azrael’s visit, about the way Emilia makes me feel things I’ve never felt before...
But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I understand it myself.
“I appreciate your concern,” I say carefully. “But I assure you, everything is fine. I just... needed some time away.”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. When Raphael speaks again, his voice is uncharacteristically serious. “Uri, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything. I mean, who better to understand the whole ‘falling for a human’ thing than your dear brother?”
I nearly drop the phone. “I am not—” I sputter, then lower my voice, glancing towards Emilia’s wing of the house. “I am not ‘falling’ for anyone. This is a purely professional arrangement.”
Raphael’s laughter rings out, loud enough that I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “Oh, brother,” he says when he finally calms down. “You’ve got it bad.”
“Goodbye, Raphael,” I growl, ending the call before he can say anything else.
I stare at the dark screen for a long moment, my brother’s words echoing in my head. You’ve got it bad. Is he right? Have I... fallen?
The very thought is absurd. I am an archangel. I don’t fall. I don’t feel. I don’t...
But even as I try to deny it, I know something has changed. Irrevocably. Terrifyingly.
I turn my face to the star-strewn sky, feeling more lost than I have in all my long existence. “I’ve done nothing but serve you,” I whisper, the words barely audible even to my own ears. “Why must you punish me so?”
The silence that follows is deafening. No divine revelation. No heavenly guidance. Just the quiet rustling of leaves in the night breeze.
“Ouch. Bit dramatic there, don’t you think?”
I whirl around, nearly losing my balance on the smooth stone. There, lounging in one of the terrace chairs as if he’s been there all along, is Azrael. He’s traded his Hawaiian shirt for a black leather jacket, but the flip-flops remain. In his hand is a pina colada, complete with a tiny umbrella.
“You,” I growl, my earlier frustration finding a convenient target. “What are you doing here?”
Azrael takes a long sip of his drink, seemingly unperturbed by my hostility. “Oh, you know, just checking in. Seeing how the whole ‘save the world’ thing is going.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Among other things.”
I clench my fists, fighting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face. “If you’ve just come to mock me?—”
“Relax, Uri,” he says, holding up a placating hand. “I come in peace. Well, mostly.” He grins, showing far too many teeth. “As for the Big Guy upstairs, He’s a bit busy at the moment. You know, holding up the fort, keeping the universe from imploding. The usual.”
I deflate slightly, the fight leaving me as quickly as it came. “Then why are you here?”
Azrael’s expression softens, becoming almost... sympathetic? “Because contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually enjoy watching you suffer. Much.”
I sink into the chair across from him, suddenly feeling every one of my countless years. “I don’t know what to do, Azrael,” I admit quietly. “This... feeling. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”
“Yeah, love’ll do that to you,” he says casually, as if he hasn’t just dropped a bomb into my already chaotic world.
“Love?” I choke out. “I’m not— That’s not— We barely know each other!”
Azrael just looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “Uri, my man. You moved her into your house after knowing her for what, a few months? That’s some U-Haul energy if I’ve ever seen it.”
I blink, momentarily derailed. “U-Haul energy?”
He waves a hand dismissively. “Never mind. Human thing. The point is, this whole ‘take the girl and run’ thing? Very unlike you. Unexpectedly rash. I like it.”
I bury my face in my hands, groaning. “This wasn’t the plan. None of this was the plan.”
“Plans change,” Azrael says, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Sometimes for the better.”
I look up at him, searching for any sign of his usual mockery. But his expression is earnest, almost kind. “What if I’m not... equipped for this?” I ask, hating how vulnerable I sound. “What if I’m not capable of... of loving her the way she deserves?”
Azrael sets his drink aside, leaning forward. “Uri, my friend. You’ve spent eternity loving humanity from afar. Maybe it’s time you learned to love up close and personal.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, resonating with something deep inside me. Could it really be that simple? That terrifying?
“I don’t know how,” I whisper.
Azrael stands, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “That’s the beauty of it, my uptight friend. None of us do. You just... figure it out as you go.”
With that, he’s gone, leaving behind only the faint scent of coconut and rum. I stare at the empty space where he stood, my mind reeling.
Love. Could that really be what this is? This ache in my chest, this constant awareness of Emilia’s presence, this desperate desire to be near her?
I turn back to the railing, looking out over the moonlit grounds. In the distance, I can just make out the soft glow of light from Emilia’s window. Is she awake too, I wonder? Is she thinking of me, the way I can’t stop thinking of her?
For the first time in my long, long existence, I find myself at a complete loss. The rules I’ve lived by, the certainties I’ve clung to... they all seem to crumble in the face of this new, terrifying emotion.
But as I stand there, bathed in moonlight, I feel something else stirring. Something that feels like... hope.
Whatever this is between Emilia and me, whatever challenges lie ahead... perhaps it’s not a punishment after all. Perhaps it’s a gift. A chance to experience something I never thought possible.
As I finally turn to go back inside, I send up one last silent prayer. Not for guidance this time, but for courage. The courage to face whatever comes next. The courage to open my heart, truly and fully, for the first time.
The courage to love.