Chapter

Forty-Two

S erenity

I held onto Raphael with desperate strength, clinging to the father I’d never known. All of my questions—the ones that had haunted me through sleepless nights and tear-soaked pillows—had finally been answered. Why had he abandoned me? The truth crashed through me like a wave: he hadn’t. He didn’t even know I existed.

Balthazar had stolen everything—keeping my mother’s soul in hell, erasing her memories of Raphael, ensuring my birthright remained hidden from me. The perfect cruelty of it made my chest ache with a lifetime of misdirected anger.

In my father’s arms, celestial warmth flowed through me, healing wounds I hadn’t even realized were still bleeding. Love radiated from him—pure and ancient as starlight—the same unconditional love I’d known only from my mother. No more fear clawing at my insides. No more resentment eating away at my heart like acid. Only love, vast and boundless, filling every broken place inside me.

A tear slipped down my cheek as I pressed my face against his chest, feeling the echo of my own heartbeat in his. For the first time in my life, I felt complete—the missing piece of myself finally found.

Through the moment, I heard Angelo’s desperate thoughts, his rage. I would never leave him. He was my heart and soul.

I slowly pulled back from my father—the Archangel Raphael. Love filled me like celestial light, flowing through every vein and healing old wounds I’d carried for so long. It was as if all my hurts and fears had been washed away by a divine tide, leaving me whole in ways I never knew I could be.

“I must go back,” I whispered, my voice steadier than I expected. The pull toward Angelo was undeniable—a different kind of gravity. “He needs me, and I need him.”

Raphael lifted my chin with gentle fingers that held the power to move mountains. His eyes—my eyes—gazed into mine with understanding older than time itself. “I know, daughter. I have a parting gift for you.”

The brilliant aura surrounding us slowly faded, dissolving like morning mist. The moment it vanished, Angelo ripped me into his arms with such force it stole my breath. His entire body trembled against mine, his breath coming in ragged, frantic pants as he clutched me like I might disappear again. Blood streaked his hands and face—evidence of his desperate attempts to reach me.

Enzo, Rocco, and Dimitri flanked us, both breathing heavily, their clothes torn and knuckles raw. They had all been fighting to break through—throwing themselves against divine power with nothing but determination and desperation.

They were my family. Not bound by blood but by something deeper—by choice and sacrifice. They had gone through hell and back to save me, risking everything without hesitation. In that moment, surrounded by their protective circle, I understood what true belonging felt like.

Raphael looked at Enzo, Dimitri, Rocco, and Angelo, his ancient eyes seeing far deeper than any of them could know. “I see you all have risked your lives to save my daughter. That is something I will not forget—even if you’re vampires.” He bowed slightly, a gesture of respect that seemed to bridge the chasm between celestial and mortal realms. “But that is not for me to judge, that’s someone else’s job.”

“He’ll condemn them all to hell.” Michael stood in the doorway, scowling, his massive wings spread out in a display of divine authority, his sword still dripping with demon blood. His voice thundered with righteous conviction.

I clung to Angelo, my fingers digging into his arms with desperate strength. A cold fear gripped my heart at Michael’s words. If Michael banished Angelo to hell, I’d fly after him without hesitation. The thought of separation burned worse than any hellfire could. Nothing would keep us apart—not heaven, not hell, not even archangels.

Raphael shrugged, a surprisingly human gesture from a being of such power. “Perhaps. But they are not all evil, Michael. Luckily, you’re not the judge.” The subtle challenge in his tone made the air crackle with tension.

“But I have input.” Michael’s jaw tightened, his celestial patience clearly wearing thin. “Come out of that dreadful church,” he commanded. “Balthazar is waiting his punishment.”

“Lucifer’s coming?” Raphael’s eyebrows raised, genuine surprise crossing his face.

“I summoned him.” Pride flashed in Michael’s eyes. “No one defies me, not even Lucifer.”

“True.” Raphael’s expression softened as he came over to Angelo. Angelo’s body tensed against mine, ready for either blessing or battle. My father looked deep into Angelo’s eyes, a silent communication passing between them. “I expect you to protect her with your life.” His voice dropped lower, intimate. “I gave her a gift. She’s immortal.” My heart skipped a beat at his words. “When you two decide you’ve had enough of Earth, call to me.”

“That vampire king is not defying heaven.” Michael’s voice cut through the tender moment, stark and uncompromising as divine law.

Raphael sighed, the sound carrying millennia of sibling exasperation. “Once again, not your call, Michael. I have influence too, if you recall.” The statement hung in the air—not a threat, but a promise.

Michael flashed us a disapproving scowl, his celestial face contorted with disgust. “You’re going to let the vampire continue to defile your daughter?” Each word dripped with centuries of ingrained hatred.

“No,” Raphael replied with unexpected firmness, “they’re getting married and I will marry them.” A hint of defiance gleamed in his eyes—the same look I sometimes saw in my own reflection. “But you’re right, we need to get out of this accursed church. It’s making my skin crawl.” He ran his fingers along his arm as if brushing away cobwebs.

“Married?” The word escaped my lips in a breathless whisper as I looked up at Angelo. His face remained unreadable, that familiar mask of control firmly in place.

Angelo’s eyes locked with mine, dark and possessive. His hand tightened at my waist, pulling me closer until I could feel the solid strength of him against me. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and absolute. “It’s time you bore my name.”

The declaration wasn’t a question or even a proposal—it was a statement of fact, as inevitable as gravity. And despite its commanding nature, I felt something within me release and settle. This was Angelo—possessive, protective, and completely mine.

“I’ll wear it gladly,” I whispered.

His eyes flashed with fierce satisfaction. He escorted me out of the church, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist, keeping me close as if he still feared I might be taken from him. The others followed behind us, a strange procession of vampires, angels, and whatever I now was—something in between both worlds.

Balthazar sat on the ground where he’d fallen, defeated but defiant. He glared at me with pure, undiluted hatred, his eyes promising vengeance beyond death itself. Angelo stepped in front of me instantly, my shield and protector even now.

I’d expected to see blood and gore littering the bayou—evidence of the brutal battle that had raged—but nothing was amiss. The ground was untouched, as if any horror had been swept away by an invisible hand. Michael’s work.

The crickets and frogs had begun their nightly chorus again, singing a song of gratitude that seemed to pulse with the very heartbeat of the swamp. The bayou was alive again, breathing and vibrating with renewed energy. Their celestial champion had chased away the evil that had poisoned these ancient waters.

But then... a hot wind swept through the trees, bending cypress branches and stirring Spanish moss like ghostly fingers. The natural sounds of the bayou fell silent, as if every creature held its breath. The air became heavy, charged with power ancient and terrible.

Another man stood there with long red hair that moved like flames in the unnatural breeze. His sword glowed with dark fire, and his wings—massive and magnificent—were black as the space between stars. He was shirtless like Balthazar, his torso marked with symbols older than human language. His green eyes held the battles of eternity—beautiful, knowing, and utterly dangerous.

He looked at Michael, a dangerous smile blooming across his face that could seduce or destroy worlds. “You rang, brother?”

The fallen archangel had arrived, and the air itself seemed to tremble at his presence.

Michael snapped his fingers with a crack louder than a gun shot. “Take Balthazar out of here. He’s made a mess that I had to clean up.”

Lucifer looked down at Balthazar with disgust, his perfect features hardening with contempt. “He will be punished. I grew weary of his failures.”

“His failures are my victories,” Michael said, celestial satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

“We shall see brother, we shall see.” Lucifer tilted his head and then unleashed his sword. A stream of darkness poured out of the tip of the sword, swirling around Lucifer and Balthazar. The smoke disappeared, leaving behind nothing but the scent of brimstone and regret.

I stood frozen, my emotions colliding like warring tides. Balthazar—gone. The demon who had terrorized me yet also shielded me from dangers I hadn’t even known existed. My breath caught as memories flashed unbidden—his rage that had made me tremble, his unexpected moments of protection that had kept me alive. I should have felt relief, triumph even, but instead a hollow ache spread beneath my ribs.

It wasn’t grief exactly, but something more complicated—the disorienting sensation of losing someone who had been both nightmare and guardian. My fingers trembled as I reached for the empty space where he had stood moments before, the lingering scent of brimstone stinging my eyes. Or perhaps it was tears. I couldn’t be sure anymore.

The silence that followed was deafening; a vacuum where cosmic powers had just clashed.

“The evil is gone,” Michael declared, his words resonating with finality.

And with that pronouncement, the bayou came alive again—crickets chirping, frogs croaking, life resuming its ancient rhythms as if awakening from a nightmare.

I looked up at Angelo. “Where’s Vlad?”

“Guarding Red Rose Academy,” Michael answered before Angelo could speak. “Petar had sent his men to attack the academy. It seems he wanted to punish everyone.”

Thunder rumbled overhead like a distant warning, the sky darkening despite the battle being won.

“Time for me to return home. I’ve spent too much time cleaning up vampire messes.” Michael’s voice rang with both weariness and disdain. His eyes swept over our unusual group one last time, lingering with disapproval on Angelo and the others before softening slightly when they reached me. For just a moment, I glimpsed something like reluctant acceptance in his gaze.

Then he vanished just like Lucifer and Balthazar had before him, but where they had left behind the acrid scent of brimstone, Michael’s departure filled the air with the sweet fragrance of roses; a celestial signature that lingered in the humid bayou air long after he was gone.

“I must leave also, daughter,” Raphael said. “But I will see you tomorrow night at your wedding.” His gaze fell on Angelo as if daring him to defy him.

For a split second, I wanted to argue, to demand time to plan the wedding I’d once dreamed about as a little girl. But those dreams belonged to a different version of me—one who hadn’t faced death, confronted demons, or discovered her celestial heritage. After everything we’d survived, the flowers and decorations and perfect dress seemed like trivial concerns from another lifetime. Everyone who truly mattered would be there, and all I wanted now was to be one with Angelo—to claim the future we’d fought so hard to have. Some things were worth waiting for, but this wasn’t one of them.

But Angelo remained silent, his eyes fixed on the spot where Michael had been.

Rather than a dramatic exit, Raphael’s departure was gentle. A white aura spun around him, swirling like moonlight on water. Then it changed into a white ball of pure light that grew smaller and smaller. It floated toward the clouds, a tiny star ascending to the heavens, until it disappeared from sight.

Angelo looked over at Enzo, his eyes gleaming with fierce determination. “We’ve got a wedding to plan. See to it that it gets done.” The command carried the full weight of the vampire mafia king—not a request, but an order that would reshape our futures.

Enzo smiled at me, unexpected tenderness breaking through his usual stoic expression. “As long as I get to give the bride away.” The words, coming from the vampire who had protected me like a father, made my heart swell.

I couldn’t speak as my throat constricted with emotion. Love and joy surged through me like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm me completely. My vision blurred with unshed tears as the full weight of this moment crashed over me. I was going to be his, not because he owned me or had claimed me as a possession, but because he wanted me to bear his name and be his wife.