Page 138 of A House of Gold
"Archangels," Croesus finishes. "Heaven's generals. The ones who enforce divine law."
The silence that follows is different now. Heavier. Afraid.
"If archangels are involved," Seraph says slowly, "then this isn't just theft. This is a sanctioned operation. Heaven itself is collecting these bloodlines."
"But why?" Dorian sets down his wine glass. "What do they want with angel-blood humans? What purpose?"
"That's what we need to find out," Croesus interrupts. "Before they come for Raven again. Before they finish whatever they started."
"Ah yes. Raven." Lysander pushes off the pillar, saunters closer. His eyes rake over me with open appreciation. "The sin eater who's apparently important enough to kill for. Tell me, darling, what makes you so special? Besides the obvious, of course."
Heat crawls up my neck. "I don't know."
"She's Meredith's heir," Croesus says sharply. "She inherited the contracts. She has the same bloodline."
"She has access to all Seven Houses," Seraph cuts in, his mirror eyes sharp. "That's what makes her unique. Most sin eaters work independently. They break contracts here and there, stay under the radar. But Raven..." He tilts his head. "Raven is bound to serve each of us."
"Exactly what her grandmother was doing," Idris adds, their mental voice thoughtful. “Meredith served two houses before she died. Was she building something? Creating a connection between us?”
"And now Raven continues that work," Kael growls. "Whether she knows it or not."
The weight of their attention presses down on me like a physical thing. Seven fallen angels, all looking at me like I'm a puzzle they need to solve. Or a weapon they need to claim.
"So we protect her," Croesus says. His voice carries an edge of possession that makes my teeth clench. "We work together."
"Work together?" Seraph laughs, sharp and cold. "You mean you want us to help you keep your little sin eater safe. How noble. How uncharacteristic."
"Someone is stealing from all of us."
"Oh, I'll help." Seraph's smile is dangerous. "But let's not pretend this is purely altruistic. You want to protect her because she's yours. For now." He turns those mirror eyes on me. "But in less than a year, she'll be mine. And I guarantee I won't be as lenient as Croesus has been."
"Lenient?" Lysander laughs. "Please. Our golden lord here has been utterly besotted. Look at her, wearing his jewelry, marked with his claim. I've never seen him so possessive over an acquisition."
"She's not an acquisition." Croesus snarls.
"Isn't she?" Seraph arches an eyebrow. "A human bound by contract. That sounds like property to me."
Through the binding, I feel Croesus's fury spike. But before he can respond, Dorian speaks up, his voice gentle but firm. "The girl is standing right there. Perhaps we should stop discussing her like she's not."
"Why?" Kael's ember eyes fix on me. "She knows what she is. What she agreed to. Seven years, seven Houses, seven sins." His scarred lips curve in something that's not quite a smile. "She knew the price."
My jaw clenches. He's right. They're all right. I did know. But I wasn’t exactly given the choice to be passed between them like currency.
But knowing it and hearing them discuss it so casually are two different things.
"I'm aware of my contracts," I say, keeping my voice level. "I'm aware that after Croesus, I'll serve each of you in turn. I accepted those terms to protect my sister. That hasn't changed."
How practical.Idris purrs in my mind.No illusions. No false hope of escape. You simply accept your fate.
"I accept reality," I correct. "Which, right now, means that someone is trying to kill me, and we need to figure out why."
"She has spine," Lysander observes, his purple eyes bright with interest. "I like that. Tell me, darling, has Croesus been treating you well? I only ask because I want to know what standard I'll need to exceed when you're mine."
"When she's yours?" Croesus's voice is deadly quiet.
Seraph's smile is sharp. "You had your turn. Or you're having it, rather. But the rest of us are waiting. And we're very curious to see what you've done with her. What habits you've taught her. What scars you've left."
"I haven't left anything."
