The storm had not stopped since the night I ran.
It moved with purpose—like a living thing that followed us.
Kael walked ahead, chains broken, the glow of their shattered links still faint on his wrists. The rain turned to mist as it touched him, hissing against his skin as if Heaven itself rejected him.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my breath sharp from the climb.
He didn't turn. "Away from the Light."
The mountain road twisted through ruins that once belonged to angels. Pillars half-buried in moss, carvings worn by centuries of prayer. Every stone hummed faintly underfoot, as though remembering what it had worshipped.
Behind us, the bells had fallen silent—but silence didn't mean safety.
I could feel them.
The Seraph's hunters.
The corrupted ones.
Their presence pressed against the air—beautiful and vile all at once. Light that shimmered too bright, wings that fluttered like razors through the clouds. The sound of their descent was thunder shaped into a hymn.
Kael stopped. "They've found us."
The words were simple, but the ground trembled beneath them.
I turned, and saw the sky tear open.
Golden fissures split the storm, pouring radiance across the mountainside. From within the light came figures—six of them, descending like comets. Their wings glowed pure white at first… until they came closer.
Then I saw the truth.
The feathers were rotted at the edges, metallic bones jutting through, veins of black ichor pulsing beneath the light. Their faces were flawless masks, but their eyes were hollow.
"Lyra," Kael said quietly. "Do not speak their names."
They landed in a circle around us, marble wings cutting grooves into the earth. The lead one stepped forward, his halo dimmed and cracked.
"Fallen Kael Draven," it intoned, voice split with static. "By order of the Thrones, return what you stole and surrender the tainted mortal."
Kael smiled, slow and without mirth. "You mean her soul?"
"She carries it," the angel hissed. "Half light. Half corruption. She is the proof of your sin."
My pulse thundered. "What are they talking about?"
Kael didn't answer.
The angels raised their blades.
The air changed.
I saw Kael's face tilt upward, rain streaking through his hair, eyes catching the lightning. For the first time, I saw what he truly was—not the calm prisoner, not the man behind chains. Something vast and broken lived beneath his skin.
He whispered a word I didn't know, and the world bent.
The wind howled. The clouds turned crimson. His wings burst outward with the sound of a thousand shattering windows—black and silver, each feather edged in light that bled instead of burned.
The sight stole my breath. It was beautiful the way dying stars are beautiful—terrible, infinite, and wrong.
The nearest angel struck first. Kael met the blade with his hand. The metal screamed, melting under his touch. Shadows spilled from the wound, crawling up the attacker's arm.
The angel's scream cut through the storm. It wasn't pain—it was something purer, like holiness unraveling.
"Run," Kael said, his voice now layered, two tones speaking as one.
But I couldn't move. The power in the air clung to me, thick as smoke. My veins sang with the same rhythm that had haunted me since the courtyard.
The second angel lunged. Instinct took me. I raised my hand—light exploded from my palm again, brighter than before. It caught the angel in the chest and flung it backward, wings splintering as it fell.
I stared at my hands, trembling. "What is this?"
Kael fought like memory and fury made flesh—every movement a dance of ruin. His wings struck with force that cracked stone, his shadow twisting around him like smoke given purpose.
But they were too many. For every one that fell, another rose from the storm.
One of them turned toward me—its face split open into light and teeth. I barely had time to gasp before Kael's shadow wrapped around me, pulling me close. His voice was a low growl near my ear.
"Don't look."
The world went black.
I heard the sound before I saw it—the tearing of air, the crackle of unholy flame. When the darkness lifted, the ground was littered with feathers burning from within, their light dying slow.
Kael was on one knee, wings dripping with something that looked like ash and blood both. His eyes flicked to mine—bright silver bleeding into black.
"They'll keep coming," he said. "They can smell what you are."
"What I am?" I whispered. "Tell me, Kael. What am I?"
He hesitated. Then, quietly, "The reason I fell."
The storm seemed to hold its breath.
Before I could speak, the mountain groaned beneath us. A massive shape tore through the clouds—a winged construct of stone and light, half angel, half weapon. A Dominion.
Kael's expression hardened. "They sent him."
"What is it?"
"Their executioner."
The Dominion's eyes opened—two molten suns—and its voice rolled across the valley.
"Return to judgment."
Kael turned to me, wings unfurling again. "If you stay, you die. Do you understand?"
I shook my head, tears stinging my face. "You can't fight that."
His smile was a wound. "I was made to."
Then the Dominion descended.
The impact shattered the cliffside. Rock split like glass, lightning struck in spirals, and Kael leapt to meet it. His wings tore through the air, a blur of shadow and light. The Dominion swung its blade—a mountain of fire. Kael caught it with his bare hands, screamed as light burned through his palms, and drove his wings forward like blades.
The sound was cataclysm.
I ran. I didn't know where, only away from the collapsing ridge. The air was alive with power, the world quaking under celestial wrath.
When I turned back, Kael was still standing—barely—his wings tattered, his body wreathed in smoke. The Dominion raised its sword again, ready to end him.
And then our eyes met across the ruin.
Something inside me broke open. The whisper in my blood became a scream. The light burst from me—not holy, not dark, something else. It struck the Dominion full in the chest.
The creature staggered, light bleeding from its cracks. Kael seized the moment, plunging his blade through its throat.
The Dominion fell.
The world split open.
A ring of pure energy rippled outward, shredding the rain, carving the mountainside into dust. Kael reached for me, his hand inches from mine—
—and the ground gave way.
I fell into the chasm below, swallowed by light and shadow both.
The last thing I heard was his voice. Not shouting, not angry. Just a whisper carried by the wind.
"Lyra. Don't forget who you are."
Then the mountain collapsed.