The smoke still hung over downtown Eidolon three days later, a gray shroud that refused to lift despite the meteorologists' promises of clear skies. From the twenty-third floor of a commandeered hotel—one of the few buildings left standing in the blast radius—Azrael watched the cleanup crews work below. Tiny figures in hazmat suits moved through rubble that had once been office buildings, searching for survivors they wouldn't find.The news helicopters had finally stopped circling. They'd gotten their footage."You should eat something." Elena set a tray on the desk beside him, her movements careful. The healer looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes from three straight days of triage work. "Maya's asking for you. She's stable now, but—""I'll see her soon." Azrael didn't turn from the window. His reflection stared back at him in the glass, and for a moment he saw the shadow of his wings overlaid against the ruined skyline. The silver-black fire had receded, pulled back inside w

The hotel had become a fortress by necessity, but Azrael knew fortresses eventually fell. Three days of holding the perimeter, three days of survivors streaming in with stories of angels hunting mortals who'd witnessed the battle, three days of watching his makeshift army struggle to protect people who had nowhere else to go.He needed something better. Something hidden."The old district," Elena said, spreading a water-damaged map across the conference table. "Before the downtown development boom, this whole area was industrial. Warehouses, factories, underground storage facilities." Her finger traced a section east of their current position. "Most of it's condemned now. City forgot it existed."Azrael studied the map. The Forsaken warriors gathered around the table were exhausted, their eyes hollow from constant vigilance. David Chen stood among them now, no longer just a persistent mortal but one of the Baptized—scarred by fire and claimed by choice."How deep underground?" Azrael

The first scream came at dawn.Azrael was standing on the cracked balcony of what had been a luxury apartment before his Dominion transformed it into something between fortress and refuge. Below, in the makeshift courtyard formed from three collapsed buildings, survivors huddled around fires that burned without fuel—gifts of his flame, meant to keep them warm in the autumn chill.The scream cut through the pre-dawn quiet like a blade.He moved without thinking, wings snapping open as he dropped the five stories in a controlled fall. The fire-lit courtyard dissolved into chaos as he landed. Mortals scattered, some running toward the source of the disturbance, others fleeing from it on instinct.In the center of the space, a woman knelt over a body. Her hands were pressed against a young man's chest, trying desperately to restart a heart that had already gone still. Around them, three more bodies lay in spreading pools of blood."No, no, no—" The woman's voice cracked. "Please, you have

The newly oath-marked exiles stood in the courtyard as the first rays of true sunlight broke over the eastern wall. Twenty-two souls now bore Azrael's fire beneath their skin—marks that pulsed faintly with each heartbeat, visible as dark spirals of ash and ember against flesh.Azrael swayed on his feet, Maya's hand still steady at his elbow. The binding had drained him more than any battle, but he couldn't afford to show weakness. Not now. Not with so many eyes watching.Sariel stepped forward first, examining the oath-mark on her forearm with what looked like satisfaction rather than fear. "I've worn chains before," she said, voice carrying across the gathered crowd. "At least these are honest ones."A murmur of agreement rippled through the other exiles. They were testing the marks, flexing hands and wings, feeling out the weight of what they'd accepted. Some looked relieved. Others wary. But none tried to leave.The priestess moved through the crowd, studying each mark with clinica

The girl—her name was Kira, Azrael learned later—survived the night. Barely.She lay in the compound's makeshift infirmary, fever-hot and trembling, while the priestess worked to stabilize the transformation burning through her mortal frame. The oath-mark had spread up her arm to her shoulder, black spirals shot through with veins of gold. Each pulse matched her erratic heartbeat."Will she live?" Azrael asked.The priestess didn't look up from her work. "Ask me in three days. Right now her body's trying to decide if your flame is salvation or poison."Azrael watched Kira's chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. In the training ground, seventeen more mortals had tried to replicate what she'd done. Fourteen collapsed within seconds. Two managed to hold a flicker before their bodies rejected the power. One—a middle-aged man who'd lost his family in the initial attacks—had combusted from the inside out before anyone could stop him.The scorch mark was still visible on the warehouse fl