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“What doesn’t destroy you will reshape you. Remember this, Celeste. Remember that the same fire that transforms sand into glass can turn logs into ash.”
“You two were soulmates.” “What? I thought—Jarod . . .” “He wasn’t her soulmate.” “But—” “Mate means friend, Celeste. Jarod . . . I believe he was more. I believe he was her neshahadza—her soulhalf.”
“Because we aren’t the sum of our mistakes but the sum of how we deal with them.”
Pretty on the outside; petty on the inside. Crazy how a single letter could make such a difference.
“I changed my mind, Seraph. Please drop me.” A vibration settled over the rhythmic thuds of his pulse. It took my burning ears a millisecond to decipher the sound—laughter. He was laughing at my predicament. “It’s not nice to make fun of people when they’re at their weakest.” I really needed to locate the dead-man switch on my smoldering because if I continued to light up in his presence, I wanted it to be on my terms. His laughter slowed to an elegant chuckle. “You mean, at their shiniest?” “I’m going to let go now.” I forced myself to slacken my death grip. He pressed his mouth into the
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My lips quirked. “Good thing no angel has ever had black wings.”
Foreshadow
one of my peers was ascending while I was
“I don’t see how my smolder’s duration has anything to do with you not being able to get your wings out of my face.” “Celeste,” he growled. “What, Seraph?” “I’m winging you.”
“With me, Celeste. You belong with me. To me.” And then he was stepping forward, filling my space. Filling all the space. “The same way I belong to you.”
“You can feel mine, Celeste, because my reckless soul has decided it belongs with yours.” The air darkened as his wings curled around our bodies. “Ta yot neshahadzaleh, levsheh.” His fingertips danced up the length of my spine, then back down, before wrapping delicately around my waist. “You are my soulhalf, sweetheart.”
that the best way to save humanity is by teaching humans to save themselves.”
“Tonight, I vow to forever protect your body, your heart, and your soul.” In slow motion, his hips pulled back, then pressed forward, and a tremor zinged through both our bodies. “Ni aheeva ta, Celeste.” “What does that mean?” “It means: I love you.”
“My girl really likes your cake, Tobias.” Asher’s fingers lazily wore a path up and down my spine.
You can rewrite this story a million different ways, Celeste, but it will always end the same. It will end with you and me.”
