When she didn’t move from her position, I slowly relaxed. Not because I trusted that she really wasn’t here to torture me but because I didn’t have the strength to stay braced for anything indefinitely.
Eventually she stopped her murmuring and lifted her head, but she didn’t look at me. Instead, she fixed her gaze on a spot on the wall over my shoulder.
“My name is Laila,” she said. “I’m twenty-one. I was born into the first order. I trusted the wrong person and ended up here. I’m not really sure wherehereis actually. He said I was in Hell, but you’re the first person I’ve seen in probably weeks. I’ve been wandering through these rock tunnels since I left the cavern. You don’t owe me anything, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but I don’t have anyone else right now.”
“Angels of the first order have wings.” We all had wings, but according to Sam, angels of the first order never retracted their golden wings.
Laila’s expression twisted with grief. “I know.” She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to. I’d seen the same loss in her eyes in Nathaniel’s when he’d had his wings cut off.
When my brother had lost his wings, Danielle, our sister and newest member of the secret order, had helped speed up his healing process. She’d originally been a seventh-order angel, same as me, but unlike me, she was special. Danielle had the ability to heal anything with a soul. Her healing powers weren’t limited to humans like most of the angels of the seventh order’s were.
Even if my powers were still intact, something I wasn’t sure of at all, there would be nothing I could do to ease Laila’s pain.
The golden blood on her dress and in her hair made sense now. It wasn’t from torturing or slowly killing an angel; it washers.
Laila wasn’t like me. Her soul was intact. She didn’t have darkness running through her veins and poisoning her heart. She didn’t just have traces of heavenly fire in her, she was bursting with it.
“You can’t be here when they come back,” I told her, fear for this broken angel in front of me clawing at my insides. “And theywillcome back. They come for my blood, and I’m pretty sure they come for my pain. Youcan’tbe here.”
She looked almost hurt at my words.
“Please, Laila,” I begged, ignoring the way her name felt on my tongue. She needed to leave, not just because of the demons who would return to my cell but because she shouldn’t trust me. I didn’t know how long I could control the darkness that ate away at me.
“I don’t understand.”
I held back my growl of frustration. “The greater demons would have a field day with you. You’re full of heavenly fire they’ll want to get their hands on. And that’s not even going into what the lesser demons would do to you.” My chest squeezed at the thought of her going through the things I’d been through since my arrival here. She was everything soft and angelic, and they would delight in breaking her.
My hands clenched into fists at my side. There would be no torture worse than seeing the light dim in her eyes. Because theywouldbreak her. She wasn’t built for this life. She was supposed to be in a palace somewhere far away from here, walking streets of gold and drinking wine or whatever it was angels of the first order did.
“Okay.” She lifted her hands in a pleading gesture. “I’ll go. But please tell me one thing first.”
“What?” I ground out.
“What’s your name?”
“Joriel.”
“Joriel,” she repeated, like she was trying out how my name tasted.
It was the first time I’d heard my name spoken aloud by another person in… I didn’t even know how long. The demons never used my name. I doubted they even knew what it was. I wasn’t a person to them. I was nothing but a source of entertainment and semi-angelic blood. I hadn’t realized how much I missed hearing my name, being seen as more than a prisoner.
“Go,” I urged Laila.
She stood a bit unsteadily. “I’m going.” She took a couple of steps backward, keeping her eyes locked with mine. “Hold on to your faith, Joriel,” she whispered, and then she spun around and all but ran down the passage.
Her back was covered in dried blood, the skin where her wings had once been connected torn and raw.
Usually angel wounds healed fast. But regrowing wings? That took time and would be insanely uncomfortable for her. If it was even possible while she was in Hell.
I slumped against the wall while whatever was left of my heart twisted and protested with every step Laila took farther away from me.
I’d forgotten what it felt like to be looked at like I had a heart and soul—even if I didn’t anymore. I’d forgotten how different it was to be talkedtoinstead of talkedat. I could still hear her footsteps echoing and I already missed her.
I didn’t want her anywhere near me and my fucked-up situation, but I still longed for the connection to another being. Like a human, I wasn’t meant to live in isolation. I’d signed up for this, and I’d do it again to give Nathaniel, Sierra, and their daughter their happy ending, but that didn’t stop this place from slowly eating away at me.
Closing my eyes, I tipped my head back and recited the mantra I had given up on at some point since my arrival.
Your name is Joriel. You were born an angel of the seventh order but have belonged to the secret order for the past thirty years. You have three brothers and one sister. Their names are Micah, Samuel, Nathaniel, and Danielle. You love them and they love you.
