Chapter 98 Chapter 98

Chapter 98 Chapter 98
Typical. He studied me for a moment, his gaze softer than his words. “You feel him, don’t you?” he asked. 
“Yes.”
“Then you know you can’t go through yet. Heaven’s on high alert. Michael’s been keeping the gates locked tighter than ever.”
I scowled. “Michael knows?”
“Knows enough,” he said. “But he’s not your problem. God is.”

I turn toward the light again. “Let Him come. I’ve burned worse.”
Baltazaar laughed under his breath. “That’s the spirit.”
He paused, then his expression shifted, serious now. “Gem… if you’re going to do this, if you’re going to break the rules of both realms again, you need to be ready for what comes next.”
I glanced over. “And what’s that?”
He smirked faintly. “Everything.”

We stayed there in silence for a while, the demon and the queen, watching the line between creation and eternity shimmer in the distance. The sky grew darker as the day turned, the first stars bleeding through the veil. I could feel Azrael’s presence flicker stronger, like he’s standing on the other side, reaching out.
“Soon,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone.

Baltazaar stood, stretching his wings. “I’ll give you a few hours. Then I’m closing this place down before your magic fades and every Seraph in Heaven sees you glowing like a torch.” I nodded. “Thank you.”
He paused, half-turned away. “For what it’s worth… I hope you find a way.”
I smiled faintly. “We will.” He gave a short nod and disappeared into the shadows, gone without a sound.
I sat alone again, the light of Heaven pulsing just beyond reach. My power hums low, steady, and restless, my own Divine light slowly thrumming and rising back to the surface. I pressed my hand against the barrier of air and felt the faintest echo of warmth push back, not rejection, not resistance. Recognition.
Azrael.

I closed my eyes and leaned into it, just enough to feel the bond thrum through my veins.
“We’ll find our way,” I whispered to the light. “Even if it means rewriting the stars.”
The wind shifted, soft and warm, curling around me like a promise.
He heard me. He always does.

Azrael

Heaven doesn’t sleep.  It hums too perfectly, too precisely, too still. The light here doesn’t move like sunlight. It’s constant, endless, and cold. I used to find comfort in that. Now, it feels like suffocation.
The other Seraphim pass me in the halls without a word, their eyes lowered, their grace folded in. None of them remember what it’s like to be uncertain. None of them know what it’s like to bleed for something that isn’t divine.
But I do.  Because I remember her.  Because no matter how deep the light cut, it couldn’t erase Geminia.

I stood at the edge of the Hall of Ascension, the place where the veil between realms hums the loudest. From here, you can almost see the world below, Earth, sprawling in a wash of color, flawed and alive. And beyond that, in a shimmer of shadow and flame, Hell.
And somewhere in between her.

My bond stirred before I saw her. It started as a whisper under my skin, the soft ache that’s lived there since the moment I was remade. But this time, it grew sharper and louder until the light itself bent around me. My breath catches.
She’s near. The world rippled.
The veil flickered like a heat haze, and for a heartbeat, a blink in eternity, I feel her. Not just the bond, not just memory, but her actual presence. Her fire, her breath, her will.  She’s here. “Gem,” I whisper, the name catching in my throat.
A seraph at the end of the hall turns sharply. “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” I answer smoothly. He hesitated, then bowed and leaves. I wait until his light disappears before stepping closer to the veil.

I press a hand to it. The surface shivers beneath my palm, responding like living glass. I can’t see her, but I feel the pull, that deep, impossible tether that’s older than Heaven itself. It drags at me, pulls me toward the world below.
She’s calling. I close my eyes and whisper, “I hear you.”

The light flickered. Flared. For a split second, I swore I felt her hand against mine, not in flesh, but in soul. The bond hums through me, shaking the chamber. My wings flared instinctively, the power spilling out before I could stop it.
And then silence.
The veil hardened again, the connection dimming. She’s gone. Hidden. I can still feel her, faint, distant, but cloaked in shadow.
Baltazaar’s doing. Clever bastard.

“Azrael.” The voice sliced through the quiet.  Michael.
I turned slowly. He stood at the archway, arms folded, expression unreadable. His eyes flicker from my glowing hand to the trembling veil.
“You felt her,” he asked. It wasn't a question. I didn’t answer. There’s no point in lying.
He walked forward until we were face-to-face. “You know what this means.”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“That she’s defying both realms, and that you are helping her.”

I met his gaze, steady. “You would’ve done the same. His jaw tightened. “Don’t mistake my mercy for permission.”
“I’m not asking for either.”
For a moment, there was silence, only the hum of the veil between us. Then his expression softened, a shadow of guilt flickering across his face. “You have no idea what He’s planning, Azrael.”
“I don’t care.”

“You should,” he said, voice low. “Because if He moves against you, there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.”
I step closer, lowering my voice. “Then tell me, Michael. Did you ever plan to stop Him?”
He flinched, just barely, but it was enough.
“I thought so.”

He exhaled sharply, then turned away. “You can’t keep meeting her. You can’t keep calling through the veil. Every time you do, He feels it.”
“He’s felt it since the beginning,” I said quietly. “He just pretends not to.”
He looked back at me, eyes hard. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“So is He,” I replied. “He made me the Angel of Death. Did He really think I’d never learn what love feels like?”

There was a long pause. Then, almost too softly to hear, He said, “If He asks me to chain you again… I’ll refuse.”
That surprised me.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I’ve already broken enough vows,” he said. “Don’t make me break another.”
He left before I could answer, his wings dissolving into light. The hall fell silent again.

I turned back to the veil.  The light was calm now, still. But beneath it, I could feel her just beyond reach, the echo of her flame pulsing like a heartbeat in my bones.
“Soon,” I whispered. “I’ll find a way. I’ll come for you.”
And for the first time since my rebirth, the air shifted, the veil trembled, and a single spark of red light flared through it, brushing my palm. Her answer.
My pulse stuttered.  I pressed my forehead against the glass, eyes closing. “Stay hidden, Love. Stay alive. I’ll burn every law of Heaven before I let them take me again from you.”