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“The stakes are too high for division among us,” Cassiel said. “I see that now.”

The angel's expression hardened suddenly, his eyes taking on that distant look they got when he was focusing on something beyond human perception.

“I need to confirm something,” he said, his tone becoming more formal, more angelic.

I frowned, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up in warning. “What?”

Cassiel stepped closer, rolling up his sleeves in a surprisingly human gesture. The dim alley lights caught on his forearms, highlighting the lean muscle beneath pale skin.

“We need to examine Cade when he returns,” he said. “He may resist what I need to do.”

A cold wind whipped through the alley, cutting straight through my jacket. I shivered, glancing at the warehouse door.

“Let's take this inside,” I muttered, rubbing my arms. “It's getting chilly out here, and I don't feel like freezing my ass off while we wait for Cade.”

Cassiel nodded, following me as I pushed open the rusty metal door leading to the warehouse's main floor. The interior wasn't much warmer, but at least we were out of the wind. The concrete floor stretched out before us, our footsteps echoing in the vast space.

“So what exactly are you planning to do to Cade?” I asked, leaning against a support column.

“I need to confirm what I suspect,” Cassiel replied cryptically. “When he arrives, I'll need your help. He won't like it.”

My stomach twisted with foreboding. “Cassiel, whatever you're thinking of doing?—”

The sound of the side door opening interrupted me. Cade walked in casually, his boots echoing against the concrete floor. He looked mildly irritated, as if being summoned by an angel was an inconvenience rather than something extraordinary.

“Alright,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “What's going on?”

Cassiel and I exchanged a look. He nodded almost imperceptibly: Now.

Cassiel moved with inhuman speed, crossing the space between them. Before Cade could react, I grabbed his arms from behind, locking them in place with a hunter's practiced precision.

The betrayal in Cade's eyes hit me like a intensely, but I maintained my grip. Whatever Cassiel needed to do, it had to be necessary, or I couldn't have lived with myself.

“What the hell?” Cade growled, trying to wrench free. “Get off me!”

I tightened my grip, using my slightly larger frame to its full advantage. “Just hold still,” I muttered.

Cassiel didn't wait for Cade's compliance. His hand plunged through Cade's chest, not breaking skin or drawing blood, but phasing through physical matter in a way that defied natural law. Light emanated from the point of contact, casting eerie shadows across the warehouse.

Cade's body went rigid in my grasp, a silent scream frozen on his face. His eyes widened with shock and something deeper—recognition, perhaps, of what Cassiel was searching for.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The warehouse seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

The examination couldn't have lasted more than seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Cade gasped, his body arching in my arms, a sound of pure anguish escaping his lips—the most genuine emotional response I'd heard from him since his return.

Cassiel's expression remained focused, clinical, as his hand moved within Cade's chest cavity, searching for something that should have been there. The light pulsed brighter, then dimmer, then faded entirely.

Then, Cassiel pulled his hand back, the movement smooth and practiced. The look on his face told me everything I needed to know before the angel even spoke.

“Just as I feared,” Cassiel said, his voice heavy with certainty. “Cade doesn't have his soul.”

I'd suspected something was fundamentally wrong, but hearing it confirmed by an angel made it real in a way that terrified me.

I swallowed hard, still supporting Cade's weight as his legs threatened to give out beneath him. “What?” The question emerged strangled, fear making my voice unrecognizable even to my own ears.

Cade's breathing was ragged, the experience clearly having affected him physically even if the emotional impact was dulledby his condition. His skin felt cold beneath my hands, clammy with shock.

Cassiel's voice was quiet but clear, each word precise and devastating. “Cade doesn't have his soul.”