The sky wasn't just quiet; it was suffocating. Above the sprawl of the mortal realm, the atmosphere felt thin, stretched to a breaking point as if the universe itself were waiting for the snap.
I am Arpita, a High Seraph of the Third Circle, a creature woven from starlight and absolute, unthinking obedience. My wings, spans of iridescent ivory, felt heavy today. Every beat against the cold air sent a thrum of anxiety through my marrow. I was born to be the shield of the Heavens, the purge that scours the rot from the earth. But for months, the rot had a name. And that name felt like a brand on my soul.
Gojo.
He was the High Prince of the Void, the crown jewel of the pit. To the mortals, he was a myth of silver-white hair and eyes that held the infinite, terrifying cold of the cosmos. To me, he was the gravity that threatened to pull me out of my orbit. My mind reeled why was I scanning the horizon for a threat I should be praying to avoid? My pulse was a traitor, drumming a rhythm that had nothing to do with divine duty.
The air suddenly curdled. The scent of ozone and expensive cloves a paradox of holy destruction and worldly sin hit me like a physical blow.
"Miss me, little angel?"
The voice didn't come from the air it came from inside my own head, a velvet intrusion that made my grace flicker. I felt my feathers ruffle instinctively, a defensive reflex I couldn't suppress.
Before I could flare my power, the world tilted. A massive shadow eclipsed the sun. A hand, gloved in black leather, clamped around my waist with the force of a tectonic shift. The impact of his body against mine was like two stars colliding. I gasped, my lungs collapsing under his sheer weight as we began a terminal velocity plunge toward the earth.
He didn't just hold me he pulled me flush against the hard planes of his chest, making sure I felt every inch of the power I was supposed to loathe.
"Get off!" I screamed, my voice whipped away by the howling wind. I slammed my elbow into his chest hard enough to shatter a mountain but it was like hitting a wall of reinforced steel.
Gojo laughed. It was a dark, jagged sound that vibrated through my spine, more intimate than a touch. "And miss the view of you falling? Never. You look so much more alive when you're crashing, angel."
We hit the forest floor with a shockwave that leveled trees. Dust and dead leaves erupted around us in a choking cloud. I was pinned. My wings were trapped beneath me, useless and aching, and Gojo was a cage of muscle and malice over my body.
He didn't move. He lingered there, his weight crushing me into the dirt, his silver hair spilling down like a silk shroud, walling us off from the rest of the world. Those eyes a blue so bright they looked unholy, devoid of a human soul stared into mine. He looked at me not as a soldier looks at an enemy, but as a starving man looks at a feast.
"Well, well," he purred, his voice dropping to a low, predatory gravel. He shifted his weight, a deliberate movement that forced the air from my lungs and made me acutely aware of the gap between us vanishing. "Look at you. Covered in dirt and looking remarkably... reachable."
His fingers, cold and steady, traced the line of my jaw. I flinched, turning my face away, my lip curling into a pout of pure, unadulterated fury or so I told myself. In truth, my skin was singing where he touched it, a hum of electricity that made my own holiness feel like a lie.
"You're late," I hissed, the words slipping out before I could censor them.
Gojo froze. A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face, revealing the sharp, predatory glint of fangs. He tilted his head, his eyes dancing with a cruel, playful light. "Late? Darling, were you counting the minutes? I didn't realize the Third Circle kept such a tight schedule for their secret obsessions."
"I was patrolling the breach," I lied, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs a rhythm I knew he could feel through his chest. I tried to narrow my eyes, to look formidable, but my breathing was too shallow, too hitched.
"You were waiting," he corrected, his voice like silk wrapped around a blade. He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, his hot breath sent a shiver straight to my core. "You were wondering if I'd finally come to take what's mine. Tell me, angel, did the sky feel empty without me?"
"I am a servant of the Light," I gasped, trying to summon a burst of holy fire, but my magic felt sluggish, dampened by his sheer proximity. It was as if his darkness was a sponge, soaking up my resolve. "You are a plague. A mistake."
"Then why are you shaking, Arpita?" He shifted, sliding his knee between mine with a slow, possessive confidence. His hand traveled from my jaw to the sensitive skin of my throat. He didn't squeeze, but the weight of his palm was a promise of total control. "Is it the 'plague' that makes your pulse jump like a trapped bird? Or is it because you know I'm the only thing in this universe that can actually feel you?"
"It's disgust," I spat, though the heat rising in my cheeks betrayed me. I hated how my body leaned into his touch even as I spoke the words.
"It's hunger," he countered. He lowered his head, his nose brushing against mine, his breath smelling of winter and spice. "You spend your eternity in a cold, white hall, singing praises to a King who doesn't touch you. I look at you, and I see a masterpiece begging to be ruined. I see the fire behind that pretty, obedient mask."
His thumb moved to my bottom lip, pressing down until it yielded. I bit my lip, trying to pull away, but he only gripped me tighter, his body flush against mine. The friction was a sin in itself. I could feel the tension in his shoulders, the coiled strength of a predator who had finally cornered his prey and was enjoying the taste of her fear.
"One day," he whispered, his eyes darkening to the color of a stormy sea, "those wings won't be white anymore. I'll dye them black with the shadows I pour into you. You won't be a guard. You'll be my Queen. And I'll burn every heaven in your way to keep you there."
"I would rather burn," I whispered, my voice breaking.
"You're already burning, angel. I can feel the heat radiating off you. You're melting for me." He leaned in, his lips a hair's breadth from mine, teasing the contact until I was practically straining for it. "Admit it. You didn't fight the fall. You let me catch you because you're bored of flying alone."
I gathered every ounce of my fading grace, a blinding flash of white light erupting from my skin. It was a holy scream, a desperate attempt to reclaim my soul. Gojo hissed, the light searing his demonic flesh, and he vaulted back, landing gracefully on his feet like a panther. Even in pain, his movements were effortless, mocking my struggle.
I scrambled up, my wings flaring to their full, intimidating span, sparks of electricity dancing between my feathers. I was trembling, my chest heaving, trying to look like the warrior I was supposed to be. "Don't touch me again, Gojo. Next time, I won't just singe you. I'll unmake you."
He stood in the center of the clearing, the shadows of the trees twisting toward him as if he were their master. He wiped a drop of blood from his lip where my light had cracked his skin, then licked it off his thumb, his gaze never leaving mine. It wasn't a look of anger; it was a look of absolute, terrifying promise.
"You're magnificent when you're trying to be holy," he drawled, his obsession written in the predatory tilt of his head. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on the places where he had just been pressing against me. "But we both know the truth. The Light is a ceiling, Arpita. I am the floor. And eventually... everyone falls. I'll be waiting to catch you again. Don't keep me waiting too long next time I might get impatient."
He stepped into a patch of absolute shadow and vanished, his laughter lingering in the air like a stain, mocking the silence.
I stood alone in the wreckage of the forest, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My skin still burned where he had touched me a phantom heat that made my silver armor feel like ice. My heart was still racing, a frantic, rhythmic betrayal. And as I looked up at the vast, empty sky, I realized with a sickening jolt of terror that I wasn't looking for the way back up.
I was looking for the shadow to return.