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Three days crawled by like eternity. Each morning, I woke up expecting news, a message, something—anything to break the endless cycle of waiting. But Ezekiel remained silent, the angels stayed hidden, and the rest of the supernatural world seemed to be holding its breath.

To keep from losing my mind, I threw myself into training.

Levi and I spent hours at the warehouse, working with my magic, making sure it was truly stable.

Day by day, my confidence grew. My light bolts flew true, my shields held strong, and for the first time in months, I felt like myself again—an angel with purpose and power.

“Your aim's getting better,” Levi observed one afternoon as I hit the center of a target for the fifth time in a row.

A thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, his shirt discarded hours ago.

Even after endless rounds of sparring, he barely looked winded—just one of the many perks of being a higher demon, I supposed.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, grinning despite my exhaustion. “Was that a compliment? From the great Leviathan himself? I'm honored.”

He rolled his eyes, but I caught the small smile tugging at his lips. “Don't let it go to your head, sweetheart.”

I summoned another light bolt, letting it dance across my fingertips before hurling it at a moving target Levi had rigged up. The bolt struck with perfect precision, sending the target spinning wildly.

“Too late,” I called over my shoulder as I headed for the water bottles we'd set aside. “I'm already planning to put that on my résumé. 'Ariella: Kicker of ass, so impressive even Leviathan noticed.'“

Levi laughed, the sound echoing through the warehouse. “You're impossible.”

“And yet, here you are.” I tossed him a water bottle, which he caught with ease.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away—Rhodes, the dagger, the looming threat of war. All that remained was the two of us, breathing hard in the dim light of the warehouse, connected by something deeper than magic or fate.

“Here I am,” he agreed softly.

We didn't always train with magic. Some days, we traded energy bolts for blades, sparring with the practiced ease of two warriors who had spent their lives in battle.

Other days, when even the warehouse felt too confined, we ventured out to a nearby park, running for miles along winding trails that cut through the heart of Houston.

Those were the moments I treasured most—the sun on my face, the rhythm of our footsteps matching as we pushed ourselves harder, faster. Sometimes, I could almost pretend we were normal. Just two people, living ordinary lives, without the weight of realms resting on our shoulders.

But we weren't normal, and the constant absence of news was a reminder that our brief interlude of peace wouldn't last.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” I suggested one evening as we cooked dinner together in Levi's kitchen. He was chopping vegetables with quick, precise movements while I stirred a pot of pasta sauce. “Somewhere with better access to information.”

Levi glanced at me, his expression thoughtful. “Where exactly?”

I shrugged, frustrated by my own restlessness. “I don’t know. Maybe the Great Eternity Hall. Anywhere might be better than just sitting here, waiting.”

“We're not just sitting around,” Levi pointed out, sliding the chopped vegetables into a pan where they sizzled in hot oil. “We're preparing. Getting stronger. And the Hall hasn't exactly been a wellspring of useful information lately.”

He was right, of course. We'd visited the Hall every day, spending hours combing through ancient tomes and scrolls, searching for any mention of the Scarlet Hex Dagger or alternative ways to enter Elysium.

But each visit ended the same way—with more questions than answers, and a growing sense that we were running out of time.

“I know,” I sighed, setting the wooden spoon aside. “I just feel like we're missing something important. Like the answer is right in front of us, but we can't see it.”

Levi moved behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders, kneading the tension away. “Relax, sweetheart.”

“Easier said than done.” I leaned back against him, drawing comfort from his warmth. “I just wish Ezekiel would contact us. What if something happened to him?”

“He's smart, he's careful,” Levi said, his voice steady and reassuring. “And if he can't get to us, we'll find another way.”

I turned in his arms, looking up at him. “Does being a higher demon incur sudden increasing wisdom?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Ha, I wish.”

I laughed, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “Right? If that was a thing, I would love to learn it.”

“Now,” he said, stepping back to check on the vegetables, “are we going to eat, or keep talking about depressing scenarios all night?”

When the food was ready, we sat down on the long, glass table, Levi at the head, and me on his right side.

I frowned as I served myself. “Hopefully this isn’t depressing scenarios or subject, but …

what about your business? From before you met me?

All of your demon related dealings, and the wishes, and whatever else you did?

” I honestly didn’t know exactly what he did before, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “How’s that going?”

He stared at me, his dark eyes gleaming. “Well, since you asked, I should tell you that since you saved me from being a mindless demon, I lost the connection with the wishing book.”

My mouth fell open. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We had plenty on our plates with your death, the foreign magic, Rhodes, and Elysium.” He shook his head. “It never seemed like the right time, and it isn’t important.”

“Of course it is important,” I said, still shocked. “That’s a good thing, right?”

He nodded. “Mostly. I don’t have an advantage now when I want a favor or knowledge, but those days are behind me.”

“What do you mean?”

He reached across the table and took my hand in his. “I don’t want to live that life anymore, sweetheart. I say, after all of this is done, we take my fortune and retreat to Maldives or Bora Bora.”

My chest expanded with such a powerful feeling. Here was a higher demon who had been in the morally gray space for most of his life, and he was telling me he was ready to abandon everything—that he already had!—to live a quiet life with me.

I didn’t know what to say. The words escaped me and if I tried saying anything, I would babble like a kid with a new toy, or I would choke.

So instead I squeezed his hand and ate dinner.

After, we curled up on Levi's couch to watch a movie—some action thriller that was more explosion than plot. But even though I tried, I couldn’t really pay attention.

My thoughts kept drifting back to Elysium, to Rhodes, to my family.

I wondered if my mother was worried about me.

If Adriel still believed I was a traitor. The thought made my chest ache.

“You're thinking too loudly again,” Levi murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my arm.

I smiled faintly. “Sorry. Occupational hazard of being me, I guess.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I considered for a moment, then shook my head. “Not really. Just the usual doom and gloom.”

He studied me, his dark eyes searching. “You know, it's okay to enjoy this”—he gestured between us—”even with everything else going on. You're allowed to have moments of peace, sweetheart.”

A lump formed in my throat at the gentleness in his voice. “I know. It's just strange.”

“What is?”

“This.” I waved my hand, indicating the apartment, the movie, the comfortable domesticity of it all. “Playing house, pretending we have normal lives. We never will, you know. Not really.”

Levi was quiet for a long moment, his gaze thoughtful. “Maybe not. But that doesn't mean we can't have this, sweetheart. Moments stolen between battles. It's more than a lot of people get.”

I looked at him—really looked at him—and felt something shift inside me. Levi, who had been through centuries of war and darkness, had found a way to carve out these small pockets of joy.

Maybe I could learn to do the same.

“You're right,” I said softly. “And for what it's worth, I'm glad we have this.” I gestured between us. “Whatever it is.”

His lips curved into a smile, and he pulled me closer. “So am I, sweetheart. So am I.”

The following day, we visited the Great Eternity Hall again. This time, though, their grandmother insisted we stayed longer and eat lunch with her.

“So glad you could join us today,” Belinda said warmly as we settled around the familiar dining table.

Despite her advanced years, her eyes still sparkled with life as she gestured for us to help ourselves to the food that had appeared magically before us.

“I've asked Myg to prepare all my best recipes.”

The little goblin housekeeper looked bored as she disappeared back to the kitchen.

“As if we'd turn down free food,” Levi replied with his usual smirk, already reaching for a platter of perfectly roasted duck.

“Some of us have manners, demon,” Magnus muttered from the far end of the table, though his perpetual scowl had long since lost its effect on Levi.

“And some of us are still waiting to find theirs,” Abbie countered smoothly, shooting her uncle a pointed look.

Trent slumped in his chair, pushing his potatoes around his plate with disinterest. “Can we not talk about manners? I've had enough lectures for one day after that disaster with the elemental binding spell.”

“It wasn't that bad,” Gwen offered, though her attempt at comfort fell flat.

“You only flooded half the library,” Britt added with a sympathetic grimace. “Last month when I tried it, I somehow managed to summon a minor dust storm that took three days to clean up.”

“That's because neither of you concentrate properly,” Magnus grumbled between bites.