As I traipse through the house, sock covered feet padding against the floor, I pass one of the many windows, my right hand toying with my necklace mindlessly as I notice something move in the corner of my eye. My body stills, muscles turning rigid and my feet freezing in place while I listen carefully. Deep huffing breaths and a strong heartbeat make me whip my head toward the window immediately.

Outside, blanketed in the pale moonlight, stands a large wolf at the edge of the woods. My eyes wander over it curiously. It's broad, thick body is covered in beautiful, dense chocolate colored fur. Vivid, deep green eyes stare directly at me, watching me intently through the thin glass. I can quickly recognize that green gaze even if he is in the form of a wolf.

Was I not clear when I told him to stay away?

A sigh escapes my lips and I step closer to the window. I can only hope that he isn't here to start a fight, because that wouldn't end well for either of us. Thankfully, he doesn't resemble a wolf on edge or ready to attack, he just looks interested. He huffs out a breath through his snout and it swirls in the crisp night air before disappearing in the wind. I search his eyes, trying to understand him, but before I can, he takes a step back.

After a few slow steps backward, with his eyes boring into mine, he turns around and bolts into the woods, leaving me to stare at the spot where he was just standing.

The next two days I spent trying to understand the dagger that Amy gave me. There's barely any information in my books about a weapon that can kill an archangel, much less any information that an archangel even can be killed. I did read that it could possibly exist to provide balance against the infinite power archangels have, but it was all speculation and it didn't provide any details.

Throwing the useless book on my desk with a thud, I lean back in my chair and groan out of aggravation, my eyes landing on that damn wooden box again. I could spend the rest of eternity numb to the world, unable to do anything but stay stuck in my head. It sounds like torture if i'm being completely honest. I don't want to do it, but If I fall into that darkness, then I wont have any other choice. It would seep into my mind like a poison, leaving me emotionless and capable of just about anything.

Will Gabriel be able to do it though? At the end of the day, he's the one that's going to have to drive that dagger into my heart, since he's the only one that could get close enough. He's so protective of me and I know he loves me as a daughter, but even his life would be in danger if I lose my soul.

My eyes shift to the framed picture of my mother that I found buried in the closet. In the picture she's clad in a beautiful, white summer dress that flowed all the way down to her ankles. Her hair was wrapped messily in a bun on her head and her face free of makeup, a breathtaking smile on display.

She was always effortlessly stunning and so incredibly genuine. Everyone was drawn to her and you couldn't help but trust her. She was usually very gentle, but she was also stubborn and she'd never let anyone mistake her kindness for naivety.

A smile tugs at my lips as I remember an argument she once had with Gabriel.

She wasn't a very good cook but she still loved to do it. One night, when she was cooking, Gabriel warned her that the heat on a pan was too high, but she disagreed and argued with him. She threatened to hit him with a metal spoon if he didn't get out of the kitchen. Of course, Gabriel retreated quickly but only minutes later, the pan that they argued over, caught fire, bursting into flames. She rushed to put it out and remade the food after swearing me to secrecy.

Would she be proud of me?

The angels think i'm horrible and an abomination. I was a child when she died, innocent and blissfully ignorant, but I've changed drastically since then. Despite all of the times that she once told me I'm the opposite of what they say, would she now agree with the angels, after every horrid thing that I've done?

I'm yanked out of my sullen thoughts by frantic, continuous pounding on the door downstairs. I must of been too distracted to hear someone reach the cabin. My irritation spikes and I'm ready to release hell on whoever is on the other side of that door.

Transporting downstairs, I abruptly whip the door open, but the stench of blood overwhelms me and permeates through the air.

The first person my eyes land on is Noah, who's cheeks are flushed while sweat rolls down his forehead. His lip is split, blood is trickling from his nose, and there's a large tear in his shirt. He's panting with an incredibly fast heartbeat as he stares at me blankly, making no move toward an explanation.

"What the he-," I start to say, but I'm cut off by Alpha Gage's wavering voice.

"Please, I- I didn't know where else to take him," Alpha Gage's usually strong voice is laced with fear and pure panic.

Looking past a disheveled Noah, I have to bite back a gasp when I see Alpha Gage and Cayden carrying an unconscious and dying Zeke.