“There is always some regret when we accept that love has moved away from us.” The even voice came from the Throne. “But I will take your response as a small display of mercy and acquiescence, which offers the universe some hope. Lucinda and Daniel have made their choice clear and I hold us both to our vows made at the Roll Call. Their love is out of our hands. So be it.
But it will come at a price.” She shifted her gaze back to Luce and Daniel. “Are you prepared to pay the ultimate sacrifice for your love?”
Daniel shook his head. “If I have Lucinda, and Lucinda has me, there is no such thing as sacrifice.” Lucifer cackled, soaring off his feet and hovering in the air above Luce and Daniel. “So, we could rob everything from you—your wings, your strength, your immortality? And still you’d choose your love?” From the corner of her eye, Luce caught a glimpse of Arriane. Her wings were folded behind her. Her hands were stuffed inside the pockets of her overalls. She nodded smugly, lips pursed in satisfaction, as if to say, Hell yeah, they would.
“Yes.” Luce and Daniel spoke as one.
“Fine,” the Throne responded. “But understand:
There is a price. You may have each other, but you may have nothing else. If you choose love once and for all, you must give up your angelic natures. You will be born again, made anew as mortals.”
Mortals?
Daniel, her angel, reborn as a mortal?
All these nights she’d lain wondering what would become of her and Daniel’s love at the end of these nine days. Now the Throne’s decision reminded her of Bill’s suggestion that Luce kill her reincarnating soul in Egypt.
Even then, she’d considered living out her mortal life and leaving Daniel to his own. There would be no more pain from another lost love. She’d almost been able to do it. What stopped her was the thought of losing Daniel. But this time . . .
She could have him, really have him, for a long time.
Everything would be different. He would be at her side.
“If you accept”—the Throne’s voice rose above Lucifer’s raspy chortle—“you won’t remember what you once were, and I cannot guarantee that you will meet during your lifetime on Earth. You will live and you will die, just as any other mortal in creation. The powers of Heaven that have always drawn you to each other will pull away. No angel will cross your path.” She gave a warning look to the angels, Luce and Daniel’s friends.
“No friendly hand will appear in darkest night to guide you. You will be truly on your own.”
A soft sound escaped Daniel’s lips. She turned to him and took his hand. So they would be mortals, wandering the Earth in search of their other half, just like everyone else. It sounded like a beautiful proposition.
From just behind them Cam said, “Mortality is the most romantic story ever told. Just one chance to do everything you should. Then, magically, you move on..” But Daniel looked crestfallen.
“What is it?” Luce whispered. “You don’t want to?”
“You only just got back your wings.”
“Which is exactly why I know I can be happy without them. As long as I have you. You’re the one who’d really be giving them up. Are you sure it’s what you want?”
Daniel lowered his face to hers, his lips close, soft.
“Always.”
Tears welled in Luce’s eyes as Daniel turned back to face the Throne.
“We accept.”
Around them, the glow of wings grew very bright, until the whole field hummed with light. And Luce felt the other angels—their dear and precious friends—move from wild anticipation into shock.
“Very well,” the Throne almost whispered, her expression inscrutable.
“Wait!” Luce shouted. There was one more thing.
“We—we accept on one condition.”
Daniel stirred beside her, watching Luce from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t interrupt.
“What is your condition?” the Throne boomed, resoundingly unaccustomed to negotiation.
“Take the Outcasts back into the fold of Heaven,” she said before her confidence failed. “They have proven themselves worthy. If there was room enough to take me back into your Meadow, there is room enough for the Outcasts.”
The Throne looked at the Outcasts, who were silent and glowing dimly. “This is unorthodox but, at its core, a selfless request. You shall have it.” Slowly, she extended one of her arms. “Outcasts, step forward if you would enter Heaven once again.”
The four Outcasts strode to stand before the Throne, with more purpose than Luce had ever before seen them possess. Then, with a single nod, the Throne restored their wings.
They lengthened.
Thickened.
Their tattered brown color drained into a brilliant white.
And then the Outcasts smiled. Luce had never seen one smile before, and they were beautiful.
At the end of their metamorphosis, the Outcasts’ eyes bulged as their irises bloomed back into sight. They could see again.
Even Lucifer looked impressed. He muttered, “Only Lucinda could pull that off.”
“It is a miracle!” Olianna hugged her wings around her body to admire them.
“That’s her job,” Luce said.
The Outcasts returned to their old positions of adoration around the Throne.
“Yes.” The Throne closed her eyes to accept their adoration. “I believe that’s better after all.” Finally, the Throne raised her staff in the air and pointed it at Luce and Daniel. “It is time to say goodbye.”
“Already?” Luce didn’t mean to let the word slip.
“Make your farewells.”
The former Outcasts swept Luce with gratitude and hugs, binding her and Daniel in their arms. When they pulled away, Francesca and Steven stood before them, arms linked, gorgeous, beaming.
“We always knew you could do it.” Steven winked at Luce. “Didn’t we, Francesca?”