Interlude
The Beginning
The forest was quieter than Yuri had ever known it, the usual hum of life stilled beneath a weight that pressed on his chest. He walked behind the others, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by wet earth.
The night air was cool and damp, but it did nothing to ease the anxious heat pooling in his gut.
You’re doing the right thing, he reminded himself for the hundredth time. This is how you bring Sabriel back.
The glade was far too peaceful for their presence. Yuri felt the moon’s glow as if it were searing into him, warning them to turn back.
But it was too late for that.
The commander carved a path forward, flanked by three other angels with Yuri in tow.
The sleepy cottage appeared through the trees, moss crawling up its facade.
Xadriel’s eyes darkened on the charms that hung on the lintel—woven straw, and small sun-bleached bones.
Relics of beliefs far outside the realm of the Divine.
Yuri’s pulse sharpened in his veins.
Somewhere inside the warmth of this little cottage, his best friend lay unaware of the fate Yuri had sealed for him.
His fists clenched and unclenched, nails biting into his palms.
You’re doing the right thing.
The commander raised his hand, and for a heartbeat the world held its breath. The others moved into place, taking positions outside the cottage as though Pride itself awaited them. Yuri remained still, his breath shallow and his eyes fixed on the curtains billowing from the upstairs window.
Xadriel followed his gaze, then took to the air.
This is how you get him back.
Yuri followed as his commander pushed the curtain aside.
Inside, the hearth had gone to embers. The moon’s light spilled across the floorboards, shining upon a small cot pressed into one corner.
Beneath the hush of sleep, the woman was even more beautiful than when he’d first seen her.
Her lashes lay dark against her cheeks, her expression untroubled, lips parted just enough to catch the slow rhythm of her breathing.
Sabriel was curled behind her, an arm slung at her waist and his face half-buried in the spill of her hair.
He breathed easy, oblivious to the threat before him.
It hurt to look at them. Never once had Yuri seen his friend so wholly at peace.
He could see why Sabriel had fallen for this woman. Her skin bore the faint blush of rosebuds, and her hair fell in gentle curls that lent her an almost otherworldly softness. Even her voice, as sweet as a nightingale’s, could have coaxed kings from their thrones.
In every sense of the word, she was captivating.
Yuri just hadn’t realized how much that would doom her.
The commander raised his sword, and he barely had time to register the movement before steel drove clean through her chest. Her eyes flew open, a strangled cry of shock her only sound. Xadriel pressed down harder, twisting the blade until that cry cut out.
The blood that poured from her wasn’t the black of a demon’s or the gilt of angels, but mortal blood, bright and red, pooling on the sheets and pouring onto the floorboards. Yuri’s knees trembled as he watched each drop.
She was mortal. A human woman they’d been tasked to protect not long ago.
And the commander had killed her.
Sabriel woke with a sharp intake of breath.
He took in the scene in an instant, eyes catching Yuri’s, then the commander’s.
He followed down the length of the blade, horror turning his skin ashen.
Lurching upright, he lunged for the woman, flinching as if burned as his palm slickened with her blood.
By the time his voice broke on her name, the Soldiers were on him.
One forced his shoulder down while another pinned his wrist, the third catching his wings as they flared and peeling them open.
Sabriel bucked against them, screaming words Yuri could not hear over the rush of his blood. He backed against the door, breathing hard as Sabriel’s eyes found him from across the room.
“Yuri!” The sound of his name tore him back into himself. “Help me!”
He wanted to. By the Light, that was all he wanted. But Xadriel’s hand settled on his shoulder, stilling Yuri as though he were no more than a child.
“Leave him,” Xadriel said. “This is what happens when you break our laws.”
Yuri’s breath caught, his gaze locked to Sabriel’s wide, terrified eyes. The look of betrayal in them was a blade all its own.
“You.” The word cracked in his throat. “You did this.”
Something cold pressed into Yuri’s palm. The hilt of a gilded dagger.
“Finish it,” Xadriel commanded, curling Yuri’s fingers around the weapon.
His friend’s back and wings were bared, and Yuri’s stomach turned to ice as the full weight of what he’d done crashed down on him. He tried to drop the blade, but Xadriel’s grip was iron, forcing him forward until the edge hovered over the tender place where Sabriel’s wing met flesh.
“I said finish it.”
Again Yuri tried to jerk away. Tried to disappear himself from this nightmare of his own making. But the commander held firm.
“Don’t make me do this,” he choked, voice shaking.
Sabriel’s body twisted, wings flaring as he fought to tear free. “Yuri, please!”
Yuri didn’t feel the slice as the blade fell.
His body had gone numb, the sound of his own heartbeat pounding loud enough to drown out the world as blood spilled hot over his hands.
Sabriel’s cries were worse than any death. Yuri’s knees buckled as his friend thrashed beneath him, begging, cursing, fighting to break free—but the commander’s grip forced him upright, guiding his hand whenever the blade wavered.
The blood shone bright beneath the moon’s fury.
The three eyes embedded along the back of each wing stared unblinking, watching every trembling cut.
The edges were jagged from the unsteady shake of Yuri’s hands, and before he could make sense of how everything had gone so wrong, Sabriel was curled upon the sheets, wingless and bleeding out as the angels—his brethren—turned for the door.
“Come,” said the commander as he wiped blood free from his blade. “We’re done here.”
Yuri couldn’t move.
Sabriel did not weep for his dead lover. He did not cry out or reach for her, knowing he would soon share her fate. Instead, he watched her with silent tears as Yuri’s world threatened to break.
His friend was dying, and they wanted him to leave?
He lunged forward, straining against the hands that locked around him. Sabriel’s gaze sharpened as it turned to him. Moonlight caught on the slick of red blood pooling beneath him, and for a heartbeat the reflection seemed to paint his eyes red.
The grip on Yuri’s arm tightened. Another hand joined it, and suddenly he was being steered toward the door as tears blurred his vision. Behind him, Sabriel’s life drained away, and all Yuri could do was weep.
I’m sorry, he wanted to say. Sabriel, I’m so, so sorry.
But the words lodged in his throat, for Yuri knew that if he spoke them, he would be next.
Something in him shattered as he watched his friend die. He had always believed in their mission, had always trusted that an angel’s purpose was good and just.
Yet that night, Yuri learned the most important truth about the angels: Even the most wretched souls could masquerade as divine.