Page 123 of A House of Gold
"We find out who's behind this. Fast. Before they make their move." He stands, pulls me up with him. "And we don't do it alone. If this is big enough to threaten all seven houses, then we need all seven houses to fix it."
"You mean, tell the other angels?"
"I mean call a meeting. All of us, together, for the first time in centuries outside of our usual squabbles" His grip tightens on my hands. "They won't like it. The houses hate each other, Raven. Compete constantly. Seraph would rather die than ask Idris for help. Kael would burn the world before cooperating with Lysander."
"But?"
"But if someone is stealing souls from all of us, if someone is collecting angel-blood humans for some purpose we don't understand, then we're all targets. And we're stronger together than apart." He pulls me closer. "Even if we hate admitting it."
I look down at the folder in my hands. "She knew," I say quietly. "She knew this would get her killed. And she did it anyway."
"Yes."
"Because, " My voice breaks. "Because she wanted me to finish it."
Croesus's arms come around me, pulling me against his chest. Through the binding, I feel his agreement. His sorrow. His determination.
"We'll finish it," he says into my hair. "Together. We'll find out who's behind this, why they killed your grandmother, what they want with these bloodlines."
"And then?"
"And then we make sure they can't hurt you." His arms tighten. "Whatever it takes. Even if I have to call a meeting of all seven souses and play nice with angels I despise. Even if I have to ask for help from my enemies. Even if it costs me everything."
"Croesus."
"You're mine, Raven. Mine to protect. Mine to keep safe." His voice is fierce. "And I will burn Heaven itself before I let them take you the way they took your grandmother."
I should argue. Should remind him I'm not his possession. Should push back against the possessiveness bleeding through every word.
But right now, with my grandmother's research in my hands and the weight of forty-seven missing souls pressing down on me, right now, I'm glad he's possessive. Glad he's willing to fight for me. Glad I'm not facing this alone.
"When do we tell the others?" I ask.
"Soon. I need to prepare. Make sure I have enough evidence to convince them this is real." He pulls back enough to look at me. "And you need to be ready. They'll all want to know why I'm sharing this information. They won’t trust my word at face value.."
"What will you tell them everything?"
"The truth." His thumb strokes my cheekbone. "That someone is stealing our souls. That they killed a sin eater to cover it up. That Meredith's heir has evidence we can't ignore." He pauses. "And that she's under my protection. Anyone who wants to harm you will have to go through me first."
Through the binding, I feel his determination. His fury. His absolute refusal to let anyone hurt me.
And underneath it all, the thing he still won't say out loud: love.
He loves me. It's written in every protective instinct, every possessive claim, every desperate promise to keep me safe.
And I, Gods help me, I love him back.
"Okay," I whisper. "Call the meeting. I'll be ready."
"Good." He kisses my forehead, gentle and claiming all at once. "Because this is just the beginning. If your grandmother was right, if someone is collecting angel-blooded souls for a specific purpose, then we're not just stopping a conspiracy."
"What are we stopping?"
His gold eyes meet mine, and through the binding I feel his certainty. His dread.
"Something that could unravel the balance between Heaven and Hell. Something that could remake reality itself." He pulls me closer. "And we have no idea who we're fighting or how to stop them."
"But we'll try anyway."
