“You were a Warden, like him. You were my Protector, bonded to me. You died protecting me. Do you not remember that?”

Zayne’s chest rose with a sharp breath.

“You did that because you love me and not because of any bond or duty,” I rushed on. “Do you not remember anything before Falling? Do you even remember your name?”

“I told you what you can call me,” he snarled, sending a chill across my skin.

“What? Death? Fallen? That’s not your name. It’s Zayne,” I stated, forcing everything I felt into the words. All of my love and fear for him, all my hope and my pain. “Do you remember his name? The Warden? He’s like a brother to you—”

“Stop.” He twisted his neck from side to side, eyes closing briefly. “This is irrelevant. Who I was doesn’t matter—”

“How can it not matter?” I argued. “You can’t just be anger and hatred. That can’t be all that you are. You didn’t just start existing the moment you landed in the park. You had an entire life. You are kind and good and fair. You love. You grieve. You—”

“I am none of those things!” he roared, wings snapping out and spreading wide. The luminous glow intensified, pulsing so brightly that pain shot through my eyes. Golden-white light sparked from his arms, from both arms—

Several things happened at once.

I knew he was summoning his grace, and while I was curious to see what kind of weapon it would produce, I wasn’t stupid enough to find out. Dez shouted his name, shouted something else, and Zayne spun around. The edges of his wings glanced over my cheek in the softest caress as they rose high above me. I filed that away to obsess over later, surprised he hadn’t whacked me over the head with them. Focused on Dez, his back was to me, and this was the moment. He was distracted, and I couldn’t let him reach Dez. This was my chance to either bring him back or...

Or give him peace.

He stepped away from me, and I called on my grace. Finally unleashed, it powered through me, turning the corners of my vision white. Grace powered down my right arm as I popped to my feet—

Zayne whirled so quickly it was almost unbelievable. He caught my right arm before my grace could even reach my wrist. Spinning me around, he clamped his other arm around my waist, drawing me back against him. The contact of his cold skin was a shock as he trapped my left arm to my side. “I don’t think so.”

The Sword of Michael flamed brightly, spitting and crackling heavenly fire, but his grip was like a vise. I could barely move my wrist. He’d known I was summoning the grace. I’d gone beyond stunned and straight into what the Hell territory. “How did you know?”