Chapter 35 #2
The angels move. Croesus keeps hold of my bleeding hand, his blood mixing with mine.
Seraph places a palm on my forehead, cool and perfect.
Idris touches my left shoulder. Kael grasps my right shoulder, his grip burning hot.
Lysander takes my free hand, his touch sending warmth through my arm.
Dorian places his hand over my heart. And Caspian reaches forward with visible effort, touches my ankle.
Eight beings. Connected through blood and touch and desperation.
"The words," Caspian says. "All together. Mean them."
As one, seven angels speak in Latin, the words rolling through the chamber with power that makes reality itself shiver:
"Sanguine ligamus Voluntate vincimus Iuramento firmamus In aeternum semper Octo unum facti Unum aeternum factum Nulla potentia dividat Quod hic creamus."
I understand enough Latin from years of ritual work to know what they're saying: By blood we bind. By choice we tether. By oath we anchor. Forever and always. Eight made one. One made eternal. Let no power sunder what we forge here.
The magic explodes.
I scream as it tears through me, not pain exactly, but transformation. The divine energy that was burning me out, destroying me, suddenly has somewhere to go. It floods out through the points where the angels touch me, distributed across seven immortal beings who can actually handle it.
But it's not one-directional.
Through the new bonds, permanent, unbreakable bonds, I feel everything.
Croesus's desperate love, his relief so intense it brings tears to his gold eyes.
Seraph's reluctant respect mixed with irritation at being tied to so many others.
Idris's curiosity and something else, loneliness, deep and aching.
Kael's approval, his recognition of a fellow fighter.
Lysander's appreciation, his hunger to understand this fascinating woman.
Dorian's warmth. Caspian's exhaustion and underneath it, the faintest hint of hope.
And they feel me.
My fear. My determination. My gratitude. My anger at nearly dying. My confusion about all of this. My growing feelings for Croesus that I haven't fully acknowledged. My complicated relationships with each of them.
They feel all of it.
Because we're bound now. Truly, permanently bound.
The divine energy settles, spreading across eight beings instead of one. The burning eases. The pain recedes. My body stops destroying itself from the inside out.
I can breathe.
"It worked," Dorian says, sounding surprised. "It actually worked."
"Of course it worked," Seraph snaps, but there's relief in his voice. Through the new bond, I feel his shock at how much he actually cares whether I lived.
The light fades. The glowing star dims. The seven points overhead return to their gentle gleam.
The angels pull back their hands, but the connection remains. Permanent threads tying me to seven deadly sins. Tying them to each other through me.
"How do you feel?" Croesus asks, still holding my hand.
I take inventory. The burning is gone. The divine energy no longer tears me apart. My body aches, exhausted, but whole. Alive.
"Like I have seven voices in my head," I admit. "Or not voices exactly. Presences. Like I'm aware of all of you all the time."
You'll get used to it. Eventually. Idris says.
"Will she?" Kael asks, genuine curiosity in his ember eyes. "Has anyone ever had seven bonds before?"
"Not that I know of," Caspian says quietly. "She's... unprecedented."
"Great," I mutter. "Add it to the list of ways I'm apparently unique."
Lysander laughs. "I'm starting to understand what Croesus sees in you. You're wonderfully stubborn."
"Stubborn enough to survive," Dorian agrees. He reclaims his wine glass, takes a sip. "Though I have to ask, does anyone else feel...strange?"
"Define strange," Seraph says warily.
"I can feel you. All of you." Dorian gestures around the circle. "Not strongly. Not like I feel her. But there's something there. A connection."
Silence as the angels process this.
Caspian warned us, Idris points out. We're bound to her. She's bound to us. Which means we're bound to each other through her. Like a web.
"I'm the center of the web," I realize.
"Fantastic," Seraph mutters. "As if being in the same room with these idiots wasn't bad enough, now I have to feel them even when they're miles away."
"You'll survive," Kael says dryly. "We all will."
"Assuming Heaven doesn't retaliate for the archangel," Lysander points out. "Which they absolutely will, once they realize what happened."
"One crisis at a time," Croesus says. He helps me sit up carefully, supporting my weight when my arms shake. "Right now, we focus on keeping Raven alive and recovering."
"Already focusing on it," I point out. "I'm alive. The bonds worked. Crisis averted."
"For now," Seraph says ominously. But through the bond, I feel his relief. His grudging acceptance that maybe this wasn't the worst outcome.
"Can you stand?" Croesus asks.
I try. My legs hold, barely, and I have to lean heavily on Croesus to stay upright.
"I'll carry you," he decides, and before I can argue, he scoops me up like I weigh nothing.
"I can walk."
"You can barely stand." He's already moving toward the door. "You're going to my chambers. You're going to rest. And you're not leaving until you're fully recovered."
"Possessive much?" But I don't have the energy to argue. And honestly, being carried sounds pretty good right now.
The other angels file out of the chamber behind us. I feel them through the bonds, distinct presences at different points in my awareness.
"This is going to be complicated," I say quietly.
"Everything about you is complicated," Croesus replies. But through our bond, stronger now, permanent, I feel his smile. His relief. His absolute certainty that saving me was worth any cost.
Even tying himself to six other angels he can barely tolerate.
"Thank you," I whisper. "All of you. For saving me."
Croesus's arms tighten around me. "Always."
I feel the others' agreement. Reluctant in some cases. Surprising in others. But there.
We're bound now. Seven deadly sins and one mortal sin eater.
Forever.
Gods help us all.