“That won’t be necessary.” He spoke in a voice that was richly musical, infinitely kind without a trace of humanity. It was so at odds with itself that I winced. “You’re here for him, the one who died protecting you.”

I flinched then. “Yes. But he’s alive.”

“I know.”

“He’s not right.”

“Of course not.”

I shook—every part of me shook. “What happened to him? How is he here?”

The Throne tipped his head to the side. “He committed an act of selflessness and sacrifice by coming to your aid. He did so out of the purest love. He was restored to his Former Glory.”

“Former Glory?” I had no idea what he was talking about.

The Throne nodded. “But he chose you. He chose to Fall.”

2

The room seemed to spin as what the Throne was saying began to sink in. It didn’t make sense, but I knew what the angel had meant by saying Zayne Fell. I knew what Zayne had meant when he said he was Fallen.

What I didn’t understand was how it was possible.

I had to take several deep, calming breaths before I spoke again. “Zayne was a Warden and my Protector. How did he Fall when he was never an angel?”

His wings rose and then settled. “What do you think the Wardens were before they were cast unto stone? Did you believe the Creator snapped them into existence out of boredom?”

I started to frown. Yeah, that was exactly what I believed.

“No. God was not simply bored. What you call Wardens were once the guardians of man, great ones, but they failed. They caved to the lure of sin and vice. They Fell.”

“I don’t understand. I was told—”

“That the Fallen were wiped clean from this Earth by the Wardens?” He smiled faintly. “They rewrote their histories. Can you blame them for wanting to hide their shame?” He stepped down from the altar, causing me to tense. “They buried their deeds so deep that many generations have been born and gone to the Heavens, never knowing their true past. Some who Fell were stripped of their wings and their grace by the archangels and Alphas. Others escaped into Hell. But those who did not run, and recognized their sin, took their punishment. They were entombed in stone.”

“Alive?” I whispered.

“They became the warning that evil was all around and no one, not even God’s angels, were immune to it.”

“They became the first stone gargoyles.” I sucked in a small breath, horrified to think that anyone had been trapped in stone. “How long?”

“Centuries,” the Throne answered with a shrug.

My mouth dropped open. Centuries trapped in stone? How did any of them come out of that with their minds intact?