“When he saw you tonight, he sensed your grace. The purity even in your muddied blood called to him,” he said, and I couldn’t even work up the energy to be offended by the muddied blood part. “In his conflicted state and with the anger and bitterness of all that Fell before him, he most likely viewed you as one of the brethren who’d cast him from the Heavens. He will see the Wardens the same way. The longer he remains in such a state, the more likely he is to act upon the violence that is seeping into every pore. He will become a danger to not just you or the Wardens, but to humans—to innocents.” The Throne sighed. “A Fallen in possession of their grace is a very dangerous foe, no matter how clear their heart and mind is. We’d hoped he’d reenter unscathed. We were wrong. So here we are.”

Those four words were so final.

An unbearable weight pressed down on my chest. Silly me for believing that my heart had taken all the pain it could. I’d been wrong. It was still in there, breaking all over again. He’d given up everything to be with me, and in a horrific twist of fate it sounded like he’d become something that he would’ve loathed.

“Is there no hope, then?” I asked, my voice sounding small and tired. “He won’t become who he was before? Snap out of this?”

The Throne backed up, and the light around him slowly faded. “There is always hope if one has faith.”

Faith. I almost laughed right then, but if I laughed, I’d probably never stop. The young priest would have to call someone.

If the young priest was still here. He seemed to have vanished into thin air.

The Throne started to flicker out but solidified. “You have done well despite your shortcomings. Many did not believe you would survive your first battle with Gabriel.”

Wow. That made me feel so much better about everything.

“Your father believed in you, though.”

“He did?” Disbelief rang like a church bell in my voice.

I thought he smiled again, but with the fade of his glow, his features were blurry. “For that he has given you a gift.”

“A gift?” I asked warily. I didn’t want a gift. I wanted Zayne back—the Zayne I knew and loved. Not the deranged psycho who was out there doing God only knows what.

Doing things that would destroy every piece of Zayne, because he was good to the core.