MASON

I felt pity for my father.

For the first time in my existence.

It was the only reason his soul wasn’t going into the abyss where we’d sent Bannick for his evil.

“I will take him.” Hanim walked forward. “The Creator will not let me see His face, but I can take him to the angels gathered at the place where souls rest.”

I jerked my attention to Cassius, whose eyes had suddenly turned white, his hair glowing, and then the room was filled with the music of the Heavens as angels descended one by one flanking the Watchers and every single warrior in the room.

Stunned and in utter disbelief, I watched The Creator walk forward, no longer in the image of a boy.

But a man who looked much like the Watchers and Cassius, with jet-black hair and skin of every single color, changing with each movement. Just like his eyes never fully decided on a shape — almond, circular, slanted — it was impossible to focus on His face because of the way it glowed and shifted, the way it moved to show every ethnicity ever created.

His hands, however, were outstretched.

He faced the Watchers and solidified into a normal=looking man without flaws, a man who looked like He smiled often, if the crinkles at His eyes were any indication. It was a form He took, for what purpose I had no idea. Maybe so nobody would weep in His presence or run screaming in terror.

“The songs of old are sacred,” The Creator said, His voice carrying like a song across the wind. “They are also old.”

Was that a joke?

Nobody laughed.

But His lips twitched as if He was amused with himself. “You all were given a choice. Bannick chose wrong, and he is suffering greatly for it. But you, being stuck in this world, stuck in a purgatory of your own making, you chose the very king I put in charge of this realm, of the earth and all its goodness. You did not choose out of selfish ambition. You chose to be reunited with me. How could I look down on my children and not see the beautiful disaster you created, only focusing on the beauty, not the mess?”

Armaros swayed like he was going to pass out.

“Ah, you are a mess.” He put his hand on Armaros’ shoulder. “But I would rather see a mess than perfection. This world is not perfect. But Armaros, it is good, and you have not been forgotten. Not a day goes by I don’t think of you. I think of the goodness you brought on the mountain. I think of your beauty, and I think of your dedication. Your punishment must be served, but I think it is time the ban is lifted. You have finally restored what was broken here, in this room, with the immortals without knowing it by following the very soul you were blessed with upon creation.”

He stood back and then pressed a hand to Armaros’ head and very slowly made His way to each Watcher, saying similar things about their talents, their character, going as far as to kiss their cheeks and hug them as if they were long-lost children who’d finally found their way home.

And maybe they were.

Stunned, I watched as The Creator turned and made His way toward me.

I wanted to back away. To run from certain judgment. I was the least perfect. I had done things. I had run from my position. I had done so many unforgivable things. And I felt my shame like a blanket choking my body.

“Mason…” The Creator inclined his head. “…it seems you’ve finally found your mate.”

Hadn’t expected that.

I nodded again.

He held out his hand to Serenity.

Slowly, she walked toward Him and placed her hand in His. Danu followed after her.

“True love will always be worth it, even when you wait as long as you have,” He put her hand on mine and winked. “Take care of the earth I created, the dirt beneath your feet, the animals, the humans. Take great care of the immortals.” He hesitated and looked over His shoulder. “And Alex, try not to make Cassius’ life so difficult every day.”

Alex’s jaw nearly came unhinged, and then he shrugged as if he’d think about it, but not before nodding slightly.

The Creator’s eyes fell to Danu. He reached for her with His free hand and tilted her chin toward him. “Do you wish to return to your realm or remain?”

Her eyes widen. “I cannot speak for my people. I speak only for myself. I wish to remain.”

Someone took a step forward. “We remain with our queen.”

“You will be stripped of your power if you stay,” He said carefully, “But you will remain immortal.”

“I accept…” Danu nodded. “…gladly.”

The rest nodded their heads.

The Creator finally looked down to Mason’s father and shook his head. “You are lucky your son has given you mercy, I would not have been so generous.” He placed a hand to His chest, and with two breaths, Mason’s father died, his body lifeless.

The Creator held out his hand to Armaros. “Bring his soul.”

In a flash, they were gone.

And suddenly, a song so beautiful filled the air. I could hardly breathe with the sound of it.

Every Watcher was singing in an angelic tongue that swept its way through the room with such force that a warm wind slapped against my cheek as I stared down at my mate, my life.

With a smile, she very slowly knelt in front of me, grabbed both hands, and whispered, “My king.”

The entire room followed.

Including every angel, before they vanished, leaving the room less happy than before, less holy.

But no less powerful while the song swirled around me.

“I’m not worthy,” I whispered.

It was Cassius who finally said, “Those who are chosen never are. That’s why He chooses them.”