Ronen
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Last night, after showering off my frustration from my useless conversation with Anya, I tried to come up with a solution to this morning’s problem—with little luck.
MJ had said I needed to do something more for Lucille. Well, that something more was proving difficult as I sat on my bed, geared up, and contemplated the probability of me not killing the pet in the next hour.
It would hurt the hellion if I killed him. But that knowledge wasn’t enough to stop my shadows’ murderous urges. Not when his very survival threatened her life.
So how did I stop myself from slitting his throat the moment I got him alone? How did I keep my praesidium at bay?
I stared at my bedroom ceiling, unseeing, and his voice entered my head—Gabriel’s.
“Fate is a cruel bitch, Ronen. She bludgeons our souls to see if we can withstand her tests. They are never easy, and lesser males fail them all the time. So I ask you, do you want to be a lesser male, or do you want to rise to the occasion and be better than Etan and his rotten council?”
I looked out at the blindingly white Ethereal Castle in the distance from the cliff where we stood. “I’m sure I don’t have a soul left.”
We had just killed yet another sinner. If that was what you’d call a teenager who didn’t listen to their parents. A fucking teenager.
“I believe there will come a time when you are no longer under his thumb. And if you are a lesser male, you will not make it. You will not atone. You will dishonor their memories. So you have a choice, Ronen. You can either free yourself, or you can waste away knowing he won.”
It hadn’t been just his words that day that helped me decide.
It also wasn’t a clean-cut process. Deciding to live and face everything I’d done, runed or not, was an unimaginable daily battle.
Little things pulled me back from the edge.
Remembering Gabriel’s words, memorializing him by tattooing his dagger on my neck, the names inked across my back, meeting Alexei and MJ—all those pieces brought me back from the ledge the pet hovered on.
The day I officially overcame the idea of taking my own life, I added Aphesis, liberation, to my wrist. A reminder of my choice to be more, better, free.
To be nothing like the filth who sat on his heavenly throne and called himself king.
To beat Etan, so one day I could overcome my demons enough to face him.
The hellion was right. In a lot of ways, the pet and I were the same. I understood exactly what he was going through. I was the only one who could.
As Gabriel would say, I had a choice: to be a lesser male or to be better. To be someone the hellion would be proud to have at her side or to give in and lose her forever.
I stood and walked out of my rooms.
Fate was a cruel bitch.
Wake him up discreetly, Rune.
She lay wedged between my beautiful, although somewhat rumpled, hellion and the pet.
Couldn’t say I was surprised by that, though her allowing him to lie on her didn’t sit well with me.
I had half a mind to demand that she not let him touch her, but much like my stubborn cordistella, that would probably make her let him touch her more.
At least he wasn’t curled against my hellion. Small mercies.
Beside the hellion lay Oliver with one arm thrown over his face and the other nearly draped across hers. He sprawled out much like Rune did when she slept with me. The bed seemed pretty damned cozy with all of them.
If this went wrong, I didn’t want the hellion to worry just yet. And if she woke before I brought the pet’s fully breathing body back, I had a plan.
Rune, with her cajoling ways, led the pet down the hall to where I stood fully armed in front of my door, my fingers itching toward my Soul Swords. He approached, relief easing his shoulders and smoothing the creases from his face as if he knew death hovered just within reach.
No wonder he came so easily.
He stopped a foot away and closed his eyes.
Did he think I’d do it here?
I shoved a Hell Squadron uniform against his chest. “Strip and put it on. It’s a loaner.”
He stumbled back, brows rising.
I crossed my arms and waited for him to overcome his surprise, remove his borrowed clothes, and tug on the stiff leathers.
Go back to the hellion, Rune. Wait outside for my next orders. I—We should be back soon. Hopefully.
Rune padded away, and I gave the pet one last measured look before turning. “Follow me.”
He obeyed without a word. Good. It made it easier to resist when he kept his mouth shut. But I knew I couldn’t let that last.
Stepping outside the castle, my uniform heated.
It was cold again, enough that the snow had stopped melting. Not that it helped much.
The moon highlighted the remaining white patches, contrasting with the dark stretches scattered down the hill. The sight gnawed at me. It meant something. But I wasn’t sure whether it had to do with Lucifer or the gates.
“Is this where you’ll do it?” the pet asked.
“No. Keep up.” I luscelered away.
Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on the perspective—he did keep up.
My uniform cooled the moment we entered the Eternal Forest. The glowing trees blurred into indistinct blue forms until I stopped in the clearing where Saraqael’s funeral had been held.
Feathers, flowers, and other objects still surrounded the funerary dais.
Everything remained unchanged except for the snow that should’ve been falling through the hole in the Eternal Forest’s barrier.
It also seemed a little dimmer, but that could’ve been a trick of the eye.
I ripped out one Soul Sword and faced the pet. I let my disgust and wrath transform my expression, showing him exactly what I thought of him—of what I wanted to do to him.
Against my shadows’ wishes, I kept an ironclad hold on them and their insidious desires.
The pet took in his surroundings. “I think I’d rather have done it near the castle.”
He didn’t think he deserved to be part of the angels’ honored graveyard. That, or he didn’t want to desecrate the place where we’d held Saraqael’s funeral.
“You don’t really get a choice here.” I raised my blade to his neck.
His skin sizzled in such a satisfying way. My shadows writhed in my mental hold, demanding to be unleashed, to spill his blood. If I sank into them, my blade would already be absorbing his soul.
He closed his eyes.
I thought about it. Really thought about what I was doing here. Whether I could go through with this.
One second passed.
Two.
Gabriel’s words whispered in my mind.
You have a choice, Ronen.
Nostrils flaring, my tongue punching my cheek in resentful consideration, I chucked my sword at his feet. “Pick it up.”
His eyes jerked open. “What?”
I unsheathed my second blade. “Did I stutter? Pick it up.”
He had no idea what my plan was, which I bet was the only reason he listened. He probably thought I didn’t want to kill him without a fight.
As he reached down, I watched his face and hand intently. The moment his fingers wrapped around the handle, I waited for his scream, for the smoke as his flesh burned. Instead, he only grimaced, lifting it in front of him.
Fuck.
“Do you feel the burn?” I needed his answer—and to reinforce my grip on my shadows.
“A little.”
I clenched my teeth and glared into the glowing trees, breathing deeply.
Gabriel, give me strength. I could almost hear his mocking laughter, feel the hard smack against my back as he joked about my shitty luck, then his grip at my nape knocking our foreheads together as he insisted we’d do it together.
Whatever trouble, circumstance, or orders we found ourselves under, we’d do it together.
Maybe the reason I brought the pet here wasn’t just about fucking with his head, but because I knew I’d need Gabriel’s presence near me for this. Now I knew why they told me I’d never have a cordistella. The council had thought Gabriel had taken over that role.
Worse, the pet seemed to be right. The guardian bond was an angel-made cordistella bond forced upon its victims. Most likely the council engineered it to do their dirty work, perverting the original bond it was modeled after.
“That’s a bonded sword in your hand,” I gritted out.
Slow realization dawned on him.
“Your theory must be correct.”
Fake cordistellas.
I couldn’t even begin to process what that meant for all of us. Not just me, Lucille, and him, but the celestial world.
If Etan created the guardian bond, and if he was still using it, what did that mean? Was he creating subservient pairs? Had he already while he ruled over me? What exactly was happening outside Hell’s gates?
“More reason for you to kill me,” the pet said.
He really wanted to make my life as hard as possible.
“I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself,” I taunted.
“I promised Lucille another day and night.”
I gestured toward the barely lightening sky. It was still dark enough to keep the Eternal Forest glowing until the hazy sun rose. “It’s past midnight. Your promise ended the moment you woke up.”
The pet considered my words, staring at my sword gripped tightly in his hand. His hesitation, the fact that he hadn’t gone through with it this morning, was enough to work with.
He raised my blade slowly, and I stepped forward, slamming my fist into his fucking face.
My sword went flying, and he sprawled onto the ground. I may have also added a little lusceler to my punch. Oops.
Blood streamed from his nose as he stood, and I punched him again. This time, he only stumbled back, taking it like a male. Better. But not good enough. I rammed my fist into his chin and drove my foot into his stomach, knocking him back down.
“Stay down.”
He stood. I sent him back to the ground.
“I said stay down.”
For a moment, he paused on his hands and knees, then pushed to his feet. Two combinations later, and I had him back on the ground.
“Why don’t you stay down?”
He didn’t answer.
Over and over again, he let me pummel him, then got back up.