Page 178 of A House of Gold
"Six years is a long time. Longer than the few months we had."
"I've waited three thousand years to feel something real. I can wait six more." His arms tighten around me. "Just...don't forget me. Don't forget this. Don't forget what these months meant."
"I couldn't forget you if I tried." I press closer, breathing in his scent of metal and smoke and old magic. "You're in my head now. Permanently. Part of me."
"Good." The word is fierce, possessive. Pure Croesus. "Hold onto that. When Seraph tries to perfect you, when Kael tries to break you, when the others try to reshape you into something they want, remember that you're mine too. That I chose to let you go. That I'll be waiting."
I feel his love. His fear. His desperate hope that this isn't goodbye forever.
"I love you," I say. Meaning it. Knowing it's not enough but saying it anyway.
"I love you too." He pulls back enough to look at me, those blind gold eyes seeing everything that matters. "And because I love you, I'm letting you go. Remember that. When you're scared or alone or wondering if any of this was worth it, remember that I gave you freedom because I wanted you to choose me. Not because you had to. But because you wanted to."
"I choose you now," I whisper.
"Choose me when you're free," he counters. "That's when it matters."
We fall asleep like that, tangled together, and when I wake up at dawn, he's already gone.
There's a note on the pillow:
I can't watchyou leave. I'm not that strong yet.
The portal will open at noon. Seraph is expecting you.
Don't look back.
Choose yourself first. Always.
C
I holdthe note for a long moment, feeling the weight of everything unsaid. Then I fold it carefully and tuck it into my bag with the rest of my few possessions.
By midmorning, I'm packed. My room looks exactly as it did when I first arrived, pristine, golden, empty of any sign I was ever here. The house has already erased my presence, preparing for the next occupant or simply returning to its default state.
Only the tattoos on my arms tell the story. Forty-eight broken contracts, each one marked in silver ink. And the forty-sixth, gleaming gold and silver. A mark of understanding. A brand of connection to an angel who loved me enough to let me go.
I trace it with my finger, then shoulder my bag and head for the mirror room.
The hallways shift around me one last time, responding to my destination. Left, right, straight through a corridor I've never seen before. The house is saying goodbye in its own way.
When I reach the mirror room, I stop.
I'm alone.
The massive mirrors line the walls, reflecting countless versions of myself. Each one slightly different. Possibilities. Paths not taken. In one reflection, I'm smiling. In another, I'm crying. In a third, I look fierce and untouchable.
I wonder which one is real. Which one I'll become.
I check the time. Eleven-fifty. Ten minutes until the portal opens. Ten minutes until everything changes again.
I wait in the silence, feeling the bonds hum in the background of my awareness. Seven angels, all conscious of this moment. All feeling my anticipation, my fear, my determination.
Through Croesus's bond, I feel his grief. His love. His hope.
Through the others, I feel curiosity. Anticipation. Interest in what comes next.
And then, at exactly noon, something slides under the door.
