Wings of Strife (Silver City University #3)

1. Ezekiel

1

I ’m numb.

Time trickles by with every frantic beat of my heart, but still Hayliel doesn’t wake. The healer has backed off, no longer trying to fix what is so obviously broken.

All of this is my fault.

I tear my gaze from her limp form, unable to look upon it any longer without feeling like I’ve let her down. And I have. I’m the trained guild intern, after all. I should have protected her.

Instead, she’s dying.

This can’t be fucking happening.

Without thinking, my eyes shift back to her lifeless body. Raphael and Theo are by her side, comforting her. Comforting one another, too. Fuck. What must they be thinking? Whatever I might have had with Hayliel, her relationship with those two was five times stronger. My foolish belief that I alone could handle Roderick and whoever he was dealing with got us into this mess. It’s what will tear her from the two angels I’ve despised since I saw them having a picnic with her.

I never wanted any of this to happen.

Resolve settles in my gut as I watch them at her side. I can’t just sit by and accept that she’s dying. Not if there’s a chance to save her. I’ve studied these fucking blades enough that I should know every damn loophole. There has to be something we can do. Please let there be something.

I take a deep breath, dust filling my lungs, though I barely notice as I mentally sift through what I know about angel blades. They weren’t always called angel blades, though I can’t recall their previous name. Long ago, during one of the more deadly battles between angels and demons, rumors spread about the glowing black orb in the base of the pommel. They said it was a soul stone, and every soul of an angel slain by a blade lives within it, unable to rest for eternity. If what they say is true, that’s what the red swirls are in the dark stone. Churning souls, desperate to reach the eternal resting place they’ve been denied.

I stare at it, wondering if it’s true. Is that what’s happening to Hayliel now? If her soul gets trapped there, can we extract it somehow or will she be gone for good?

Shit. This is only making things worse.

A tidal wave of reality hits me, threatening to pull me under in a sea of pain. I can’t save her.

I crouch to get a better look at the blade, doing everything I can not to glance at her face. If I do, I’ll crumble.

The length of the handle has lines carved into it, and at its base sits the black stone. The markings are most likely runes, but as I focus on them, I notice something is off. None of the runes are complete. Either the creator of the weapon fucked up, or they don’t fully understand runes. They’re so worn down, though, that it’s impossible to tell for sure.

Raphael speaks to Theo in a low tone, reassuring him it’s not his fault, and I almost laugh. He can’t really think that, can he? How in the world would this be his fault?

“This isn’t like last time, Theo. All of us were here, fighting, and I bet all three of us would rather it be us lying there instead of her.”

He’s not wrong. I would gladly die on her behalf. But what is this talk of last time? I suspected Theo had a past, but I never would have guessed someone died.

No wonder he’s got issues.

And this will only make things worse for him.

I take her hand in mine, wincing at the heat of her palm, and finally let myself look at her. She’s burning up, far too pale, but I can still feel the thready beat of her heart. “It’s time to wake up, hummingbird,” I tell her, hoping she can hear me. “Raphael and Theo need you. Hell, I need you.”

She doesn’t move, and even though I swear I just felt her finger twitch, I know it’s more likely a muscle spasm than her responding to my plea. The others join in, begging for her to open her eyes or give any sign that she can hear them. She remains still.

This isn’t supposed to fucking happen! To the healer, I say, “She should be coherent. Why isn’t she waking up?”

“I’m sorry. Wounds like hers have no pattern. If there were some way I could make her more comfortable, I would.”

Clinking metal stops me from biting her head off. The clinking grows louder, and I search for the source of the sound. Lieutenant Atlas. He looks rather somber as he eyes the bloodied angel on the ground. He says nothing, yet somehow that just pisses me off further.

“Can you help her?” I ask, desperately hoping for a cure, even though I know there isn’t one. I’m not ready to give up yet.

He rubs his chin as he assesses her, and for one very brief moment, I’m hopeful. Then he shakes his head.

“I would remove the blade. I’ve heard leaving it in would only quicken death, as it allows more time for her soul to be siphoned into the stone.”

“I disagree, Lieutenant. The blade is the only thing stopping the flow of blood. If we remove it, she’ll bleed out.” The healer looks like she’s ready to hop over Hayliel’s body to block access to the blade. And going against a direct superior? She’ll likely pay for that later.

He only shrugs. “I was just trying to buy more time. She’s not long for this world.”

Beside me, Raphael and Theo share a look before turning their pained gazes on me. Fuck, I wish Azrael was the one who showed up today. He’d understand how delicate our situation is and wouldn’t make shitty remarks like that. At least he has angel skills.

Instead of leaving, Atlas continues talking. “You’re all very lucky to be alive. Someone caught sight of the battle en route to their shift. If they hadn’t, it’s likely you’d have all ended up in a similar state.” He nods to Hayliel’s prone form. “Anyway, I sent guild members after the demons that fled. I will do everything in my power to ensure they don’t get away with this. You have my word.”

“Thanks,” I say, though the expression is only a formality. I might have heard his words, but their meaning hasn’t sunk in. Raphael and Theo are ignoring the lieutenant. He’s completely unharmed from battle, and if we only have so long with our girl, I’d rather spend every last second reassuring her just how much she meant to us.

The healer makes a weird sound, drawing my attention. Her face holds a mixture of confusion and shock that traps the breath in my lungs. I follow her line of sight and notice the blood has stopped flowing around the wound on Hayliel’s side. Fear stabs at my heart. If she’s not bleeding, does that mean …

No. She can’t be dead. We need more time.

I shift my hand to her wrist, hesitating for a second before I press my fingers to her pulse point.

It can’t be.

Her pulse is steady and strong. But how is that possible?

My eyes lock with the healer’s, who has Hayliel’s other wrist in her hand, likely noticing the same thing as me. With the flow of blood stopped, the healer places her hands over the wound to close it. Golden light flashes from between her fingers, but that’s not what any healing I’ve ever seen looks like.

Hayliel’s face has more color than before. She looks almost healthy, if I ignore the blood and blade. Her right eyebrow twitches once, then twice.

Without thinking, I yank the blade from her shoulder.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Raphael says in horror, but his bitching is cut off by something magical.

The gaping hole where the dagger used to be blazes with hues of golden light before slowly stitching itself back together.

She’s healing , I say through the connection with Raphael and Theo, but they’re already watching. Every wound on her body glows. Some are faint, while the more grievous wounds shine bright enough to blind. Still, we don’t look away.

When the golden beams fade, she looks completely unharmed.

“Sunshine?” Raphael whispers, and we all just stare at her. Seconds turn into minutes until the hope I once had begins to fade.

Physical contact. Maybe that’s what she needs to come back to us. Taking both her hands in mine, I squeeze. “Come back to us, hummingbird,” I say, my voice rougher than intended.

“Please, firefly,” Theo adds, his own wobbling slightly.

Then, as if she could hear us between the realm of the living and the dead, her eyes flash open and she jolts upward on a massive inhale.

Alive.