and now there was nothing in the air or aura of this dead angel—soldier, killer, beloved brother—no impression of light or laughter to go along with those blue eyes and laugh lines, no stir of any kind to brush against her senses and tell her who he was because… he wasn’t. She looked up. She forced herself to meet Akiva’s red eyes and Liraz’s so they would see and understand her sorrow. And know that Hazael’s soul was lost.
I’ve never been so upset
