Chapter 32
The portal back to the House of Gold feels different, more chaotic.
I stumble through, Croesus's hand tight around my wrist, pulling me into the familiar golden hallways.
My legs are shaking. My whole body is shaking.
Behind us, the other six angels materialize one by one through their own portals, Seraph in a column of white light, Kael in smoke and embers, the others in their respective displays of power.
"My study," Croesus says shortly. "Now."
No one argues.
We move through the shifting corridors in tense silence. I can still feel the vision burning behind my eyes, seven figures that were somehow one, that voice speaking in harmony, the morning star falling falling falling...
"Don't," Croesus warns, his grip tightening. Through our binding, I feel his terror. "Don't think about it. Not yet."
But how can I not think about it? How can I pretend I didn't see whatever that was?
His study appears ahead of us, door with the serpent handle, the one that leads to the room where this all started. Where I negotiated my contract. Where I gave up a year of my life.
It feels like a lifetime ago.
Croesus pushes the door open. The room beyond is exactly as I remember, massive desk near the windows, bookshelves lining the walls filled with ancient ledgers, low-backed chairs positioned around the space.
The walls are that brushed gold, softer than the rest of the house, and the tall arched windows show that eternal golden light.
But now there's something new in the center of the room: a large table with a three-dimensional map hovering above it. Seven points of light arranged in a circle, each one representing a House like the one he showed me earlier.
The seven angels file in, and suddenly, the study feels too small. Too crowded. The power in the room is overwhelming, seven deadly sins compressed into one space, each one radiating an energy which makes my teeth ache.
Croesus closes the door. The lock clicks with a sound like a coffin closing.
"Sit," he says.
No one sits.
They're all watching me. Assessing. Waiting.
I'm the only one still shaking.
"What did I see?" The question bursts out before I can stop it. "What was that vision? You all recognized it. You all know what it means. So tell me."
Silence.
Then Seraph speaks, his mirror eyes reflecting seven versions of my terrified face. "Some knowledge will get you killed, little sin eater."
"We just went through this. I'm already being hunted! Someone tried to erase me with void. Erase. Not just kill. My grandmother was murdered. I'm already a target!" My voice is rising, hysteria creeping in at the edges. "So tell me what I saw. Tell me why you're all so fucking terrified."
"Because Heaven can't know you saw it," Kael says bluntly. His ember-bright eyes are fixed on me with unusual intensity. "If the archangels discover you had that vision, you're dead. No negotiation. No mercy. Just execution."
"Yes, yes. You said that already. But why would they?"
"Because you saw something that was hidden for three thousand years," Dorian says quietly from where he's leaning against the bookshelf, wine glass still in hand. "Something that threatens the entire divine order."
"What? What did I see?"
The truth, Idris's voice slides into my mind. And the truth is deadly.
"Stop talking in riddles!" I slam my hand on the desk, the sound sharp in the tense room. "You want me to survive this? Then tell me what I'm up against!"
"No," Croesus says firmly. He moves to stand between me and the others, protective. "We're not telling you. Because the moment you know, the moment you truly understand what you saw, Heaven will sense it. Knowledge like that, it changes you. Makes you visible in ways that no ward can hide."
Through our binding, I feel his absolute terror. His certainty that if I learn the truth, I'm as good as dead.
I want to argue. Want to scream. Want to demand answers.
But I can see it in all their faces, the fear, the horror, the understanding that whatever I saw in that vision is worse than anything my grandmother uncovered.
"Fine," I say finally, forcing my voice to steady. "Then we have a different problem. Whoever sent that vision knows I saw it. Which means they know I'm getting too close to whatever truth you're all protecting."
"Agreed," Seraph says. "They'll come for her. Soon. Probably tonight."
"Then we kill them first," Kael says simply. "We set a trap. Wait for them to make their move. All seven of us against whatever archangel they send."
"Finally," Lysander drawls, pushing off from the wall. "A plan I can get behind. Violence always simplifies things."
"Wait." Caspian's tired voice cuts through the room like a blade. He's been silent until now, leaning heavily on his cane in the corner, barely participating. But now those pale eyes fix on us with something that might be alarm. "We can't fight Heaven. The treaty."
The temperature in the room drops ten degrees.
"Fuck the treaty," Kael snarls.
"Fuck the treaty?" Caspian's laugh is hollow. "You want to start a war? Because that's what breaking the treaty means. Heaven destroys us. All seven houses. Everything we've built over three thousand years, gone."
"So we just let them kill her?" Croesus's voice is deadly quiet.
"I didn't say that." Caspian shifts his weight, grimacing.
"But we need to be strategic. The treaty is binding.
Ancient. Negotiated after the Fall when the Gods decided we were too dangerous to destroy but too useful to ignore.
" He looks at each of them in turn. "We agreed not to challenge Heaven directly.
They agreed not to pursue us. If either side breaks that agreement, it all falls apart. "
"He's right," Seraph admits, and the words seem to pain him. "As much as I'd love to demonstrate Heaven's foolishness in sending assassins after her, we can't engage directly. The political ramifications..."
"Political ramifications?" I interrupt. "They're going to kill me!"
"Yes," Seraph says simply. "And we can't stop them. Not directly. The moment any of us raises a hand against an archangel, the treaty shatters. And Heaven will come for all of us."
The room erupts in argument, angels shouting over each other, power flaring, the air crackling with barely contained violence. I stand in the middle of it all, watching seven deadly sins tear into each other while I'm apparently supposed to just–die.
"ENOUGH!"
Croesus's voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. Gold light flares from his hands, bright enough that everyone stops mid-argument.
"There has to be another way," he says, voice tight with controlled fury. "We can't fight directly. Fine. But there are loopholes in every contract. Every treaty. We just need to find it."
"There is no loophole," Caspian says flatly. "The treaty is absolute. We cannot engage Heaven in combat. Period."
"But she can."
Everyone turns to look at Seraph.
He's standing perfectly still, mirror eyes thoughtful. "We can't fight. But she can. She's human. The treaty doesn't apply to her."
"She's human facing an archangel," Kael points out. "She'd last maybe thirty seconds."
"Alone, yes," Seraph continues. "But what if she wasn't alone? What if she had access to our power?"
The room goes silent as everyone processes this.
"You want to create bonds," Dorian says slowly. "Like the one she has with Croesus."
"Exactly." Seraph moves to the table with the hovering map, studies it. "Croesus has already bound himself to her. He can lend her his power through their connection. What if we all did the same?"
She'd be channeling seven deadly sins at once. Idris points out, their mental voice uncertain. That much power could kill her.
"So could an archangel," Lysander counters. "At least this way she has a fighting chance."
I find my voice finally. "What are you talking about? What bonds?"
Croesus turns to me, and through our binding I feel his conflict, hope warring with horror. "The connection between us. The one that lets us feel each other's emotions, lets me lend you power when you need it. We could create similar bonds with the others."
"All of them?"
"All of them."
I look around at the seven angels. "And then what? I'd feel all of you? All the time?"
"Yes," Seraph says. "And you could draw on our power. Pull our sins through the bonds and use them as weapons. Gold from Croesus. Fire from Kael. My perfection. Their various gifts." He waves dismissively at the others.
"She'd be our weapon," Kael says, warming to the idea. "We'd be the ammunition. Technically she's the one fighting, not us. The treaty wouldn't apply."
"It's a loophole," Dorian agrees. "Barely legal, but legal."
Assuming Heaven accepts that technicality, Idris adds. They might consider channeling our power the same as us fighting directly.
"Then we make sure they can't prove it," Seraph says coldly. "The bonds would be internal, spiritual. There's no physical evidence. As far as Heaven knows, she's just a sin eater who got very lucky."
I'm trying to process this. Trying to understand what they're suggesting. As far as I’m concerned, Heaven can fuck off about not accepting the loophole.
They came after me and my grandma. Tried to erase me from existence.
Legally, the angels are just protecting their contracts, in other words me, right?
I dismiss that worry to focus on the bigger one right now, the bonds.
"You want to create bonds, like the one I have with Croesus, with all seven of you," I say slowly. "So I can pull on your power during a fight."
"Yes," Seraph confirms.
"And this would be...temporary? Just for the battle?"
The angels exchange glances.
"That's the intention," Dorian says carefully.