Somewhere close by, a flash of light kissed the earth and bled outward in a soft, golden pulse.
Zadkiel, gatekeeper of the Light Realm, rose from the landing with the ease of someone who had forgotten what gravity felt like. He stretched his shoulders, rolled his neck, and took in the world with a cautious curiosity.
It had been centuries since he'd stepped foot in the Mortal Realm. Everything smelled too heavily. Damp soil. Living sap. The sharp, animal-bright tang of wild things moving unseen. Even the air felt thick with things that should not be there.
He found himself standing in an open field, ringed by dense forest on all sides. The tree line was a wall of black-green. No roads. No buildings. Just wind through tall grass and the quiet hum of insects.
Aamon had sent a message by way of mirrors. This was the place they were meant to meet, the staging ground for preparations of the Shift Chamber. There were no demons. No signs of them. No scorch marks. No scent of brimstone or shadow.
Then the wind shifted. Zadkiel's gaze narrowed.
Whispers drifted through the trees, too faint at first to understand, but enough to hook his attention. He turned toward the sound and followed a thin deer trail into the forest, moving with controlled quiet through the underbrush.
The voices became clearer as the path opened into a small clearing. Zadkiel slowed at the tree line and scanned. Two figures stood in the center: a man and a woman, close enough that their silhouettes blurred together whenever they leaned in. Their voices were low, private. Intimate.
A wave of distaste crawled over Zadkiel's skin.
Mortals and their strange mating rituals were a constant, baffling nuisance. Why confess softness in the wild, under open sky, like animals seeking privacy from their own shame? It was sickening. Pointless.
He turned away from the couple, already deciding they were irrelevant. He needed Aamon. He needed the others. He needed confirmation that preparations were underway. Zadkiel retreated into the trees.
Behind him, in the clearing, Aamon parted from Jade after a long kiss. He ran his thumb along her cheek, brushing away the last of her tears with a gentleness that even he didn't know he possessed.
"Does that answer all your questions, Magpie?" he asked, the teasing lilt returning like a familiar cloak.
Jade nodded, then stopped halfway, her expression sharpening.
"But is this how I become Queen?" she asked quietly.
Aamon tilted his head. She still didn't understand what Queen meant in their world. Not fully. When he didn't answer immediately, she tried again, a little louder.
"Aamon?"
The name carried on the wind like a thrown blade.
Zadkiel froze mid-step and spun on his heel, heart tightening with sudden focus. Aamon? Mortals didn't speak that name. Not out loud. Not unless they were foolish or doomed.
He moved back to the tree line, crouched low, and fixed his gaze on the clearing. The man was turning slightly, just enough for moonlight to catch his profile.
Zadkiel's eyes widened. It was him. The Sovereign of the Dark Realm, standing in a mortal form so convincing it made Zadkiel's skin prickle with disbelief.
And beside him… a mortal woman. What was Aamon doing with her?
Zadkiel strained to hear, but the wind toyed with the words, breaking them apart before they reached him.
Aamon sighed, then snapped his fingers. The magnolia in Jade's hands burst into a puff of shadows and tiny red embers, like sparks scattered into a breeze. Jade flinched.
Jade stared at her empty hands, suddenly bereft. The flower's scent still clung to her fingers, but the warmth of it was gone. Panic rose fast, childish and raw.
Had he taken it back? Had she done something wrong?
"Why?" she blurted, voice trembling.
Aamon straightened, one hand lifted in a silent demand for patience. The corner of his mouth tugged upward. "Hold out your hand, dummy."
Jade blinked, then obeyed.
A small storm of shadow and ember formed above her open palms, swirling tighter and tighter until it condensed. Petals unfolded from the darkness like night blooming into shape.
A magnolia. Black as ink, threaded with a faint silver sheen along the edges that glittered like powdered starlight. The shadows in the petals moved, alive and familiar. Then the flower shifted, tightening and compressing until it became a necklace. Elegant. Beautiful.
Jade turned it over in her hands, stunned. "Oh," she breathed, feeling ridiculous for panicking.
Aamon pointed with two fingers. "May I?"
Jade nodded and handed it over. He twirled a finger in the air, a silent command. Jade turned her back to him without thinking, eyes lifting to the stars as she waited.
Aamon's hand brushed the back of her neck. Warm. Steady. Careful. He brushed her hair back with gentle ease, draping the necklace over her and fastening it behind her neck.
"There," he said softly.
Jade touched the pin, then turned back with a smile that looked like relief.
"How do I look?" she asked, curtsying with exaggerated grace.
Aamon's expression softened. "Like a true Queen."
At the tree line, Zadkiel watched with astonished disbelief. Aamon's hand had been on her skin. On her neck. And she hadn't burned. No blistering. No char. No scream. No recoil.
Impossible.
No mortal could touch the Sovereign without consequence. Grimm's law was absolute. It had been carved into the balance of Realms themselves. Zadkiel had to know who she was. Without realizing it, he stepped forward. Moonlight caught him. The forest no longer hid his shape.
Aamon's gaze flicked sideways, sharp as a drawn blade. He moved instantly, stepping in front of Jade so his body blocked her from view. The air around him tightened, heat coiling beneath the surface like something barely leashed.
"Jade," Aamon whispered, voice low enough that it was meant only for her. "Whatever you do, you must not reveal what this pin means. Not to anyone. I can't explain right now, but I promise I will. Do you understand?"
Jade's pulse jumped. She nodded quickly.
Zadkiel forced his expression into something polite as he approached, careful. He couldn't afford to show uncertainty. Not in front of the Sovereign.
"Evening, Sovereign," Zadkiel said smoothly, as if he hadn't just witnessed a violation of cosmic law. "Out on a nightly deal, I see."
Aamon said nothing at first. He slid his hands into his pockets and wore indifference like armor.
Jade, behind him, felt his body heat rise. The grass nearest Aamon's boots began to wilt at the edges, curling as if scorched by invisible flame. She wanted to touch him. To soothe him. To steady him the way she'd learned she could.
But instinct screamed at her: not now.
The stranger felt wrong. Like a blade disguised as a smile.
Zadkiel stopped ten steps away, tilting his head as if waiting for an explanation.
Aamon's voice cut through the clearing, cold and flat.
"What's it to you, angel?"
Zadkiel lifted his hands in a clear sign of peace. "Easy, Sovereign. I'm only here to fulfill my duties."
He leaned slightly, trying to catch sight of the woman behind Aamon. "I was simply curious. I've never known you to be interested in making deals, Aamon."
Aamon's mouth barely moved. "There's always a first."
No further explanation. No invitation.
Zadkiel cleared his throat and dropped to one knee. "Apologies, Sovereign. I seem to be forgetting my manners."
Aamon's posture eased by a fraction, the heat pulling back like a tide.
"Rise," Aamon said. "I'll overlook your actions tonight."
Zadkiel stood. "Thank you, Sovereign."
His eyes flicked again toward Jade. Aamon stepped forward at once, making the block absolute.
"I've been expecting you," Aamon said. "Though you are a tad early. Do you have other business here, Zadkiel?"
Zadkiel bowed his head. "No, sir. I've come to check on preparations. I came early."
He hesitated, then glanced toward Jade again. Did she know who Aamon was? Aamon had called him angel openly. Was he not concerned about mortal ears?
Aamon answered the thought without answering it. He spoke over his shoulder, voice suddenly sharp and cold.
"It seems to be getting late. Perhaps it's time for you to return, mortal."
Jade stiffened. The words were bitter enough to sting. For a heartbeat, she wondered if she'd imagined everything that came before. The kiss. The confession. The warmth. Then Aamon's voice slid into her mind like a private hand at her back.
We're connected now, Jade. In every way. Your thoughts are mine and mine are yours. This is no place for you. Bow and run home. I'll explain later.
Jade's breath caught. No one had ever spoken inside her head with that kind of certainty.
She obeyed.
She bowed her head respectfully without looking up at Zadkiel, turned on her heel, and walked away from the clearing. She didn't run until the trees swallowed her and the voices behind her became muffled shadows.
That's my good girl, Aamon's thought followed, warm despite everything she'd just seen.
Zadkiel watched her retreat until she vanished into the forest, then turned back to Aamon.
"I've come early because the Mortal Realm changes quickly," Zadkiel said, resuming his official tone. "As gatekeeper, I must report any potential problems to Sandalphon before the others arrive."
Aamon nodded slowly. "You do your job well, Zadkiel." Then his voice sharpened. "However, does your report include eavesdropping on my business?"
Zadkiel's mouth tightened. He lowered his head again, hiding the flicker of unease.
"Sovereign, forgive me. I had not meant to intrude upon your dealings. I only happened upon you while searching for the preparation grounds."
"We've gathered," Aamon said. "Preparations can begin when the angels are ready."
Zadkiel hesitated. He couldn't help himself.
"Might I be so daring as to ask… does the mortal play a part in this?"
Aamon didn't blink. "Pay no mind to the mortal. She is someone we've occupied our time with while waiting."
Aamon worded the truth carefully, not allowing an ounce of clarity in regard to Jade. Zadkiel nodded, apparently satisfied by the cruelty. It fit the image he expected of Aamon. It steadied his mind.
"I see." He looked subtly toward the clearing. "Then I shall return tonight to inform Sandalphon things are ready. Am I correct that this will be the location of the chambers?"
Aamon's gaze drifted over the grass and trees. "This city is small. After sunset, mortals retreat indoors. None should disturb this place."
"Understood."
In a burst of bright yellow light, Zadkiel vanished back into the Light Realm. The clearing fell quiet again, the air cooling as if it exhaled.
Aamon stood alone for a moment, staring at the space where the angel had been, the tension remained coiled beneath his skin. He closed his eyes once, briefly, and reached outward with his mind.
Jade.
Far from the clearing, Jade had run until her lungs burned. She'd collapsed near the path leading back to the house, palms pressed to the dirt as she fought for breath. Aamon's voice in her head made her jerk like she'd been touched.
A moment later, shadows gathered beside her. Aamon stepped out of them as if the night itself had opened a door. He knelt next to her, patting the top of her head in a gesture so familiar it almost made her laugh, if she'd had the air for it.
"That was too close," he murmured.
Jade could only stare at him, still trying to pull herself back together.
Who was that?
Aamon's head tilted slightly, answering the thought.
"Zadkiel," he said aloud anyway. "Gatekeeper of the Light Realm."
He stood and offered his hand. Jade took it, letting him pull her up. She drew in a deep breath, shakier than she wanted to admit, and looked up at him.
"If he's an angel," she asked, voice hoarse, "why did you tell me to run? Aren't angels good?"
The question was innocent. The assumption behind it was even more so. Aamon stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable passing through his eyes.
And because they were connected now, Jade felt the flicker of his thought like a shadow against her heart.
Humans really do build their whole world out of fairytales.