Chains of Shadow and Gold

The dinner party was exactly as tedious as Kieran had expected, with the added bonus of having to watch Seraphina perform for their guests while Auriel served the meal in perfect, humiliating silence.

The Marquis Valdris and his wife were old-guard nobility, the kind of demons who measured their worth in centuries of accumulated cruelty and political maneuvering. They complimented Seraphina on her "exquisite taste in decorations" while their eyes followed Auriel's every movement with the kind of appreciation usually reserved for fine art or expensive wine.

"Such lovely wings he must have had," Lady Valdris commented as Auriel refilled her glass with wine that probably cost more than most demons saw in a lifetime. "The scars are simply fascinating."

"Aren't they?" Seraphina's smile was sharp with pride. "I've been thinking of having them tattooed to make them more prominent. Perhaps something artistic—flames, or chains, or both."

Auriel's hand didn't shake as he poured, but Kieran caught the almost imperceptible tightening around his eyes. The angel finished serving and stepped back to his position against the wall, hands clasped behind his back, head slightly bowed. The perfect picture of broken submission.

Except Kieran was beginning to recognize the signs of Auriel's carefully maintained control. The way he breathed, slow and measured. The slight tension in his shoulders that suggested he was fighting every instinct he had. The fact that despite everything, he held himself like royalty pretending to be a servant rather than a servant who had forgotten he was once royal.

"You must tell us your secret," the Marquis was saying to Seraphina. "Our own attempts at angel-breaking have been... less successful."

"The key is patience," Seraphina replied, cutting into her meat with surgical precision. "Most demons rush the process. They want immediate gratification—screaming, begging, quick submission. But the truly beautiful break happens slowly, piece by piece, until they don't even remember what they used to be."

She glanced at Auriel as she spoke, and Kieran saw something flicker in the angel's expression before he could hide it. Not submission, but calculation. As if he were memorizing every word for future use.

"How fascinating," Lady Valdris murmured. "And does he still have his holy powers?"

"Severely limited, thanks to the binding. He can't heal, can't fly, obviously, and can't access his true strength. But there are still traces..." Seraphina's eyes glittered with malicious amusement. "Gabriel, dear, come here."

Auriel moved with that same careful grace, approaching the table without hesitation but with no eagerness either. He stopped beside Seraphina's chair, close enough that she could reach out and trail her fingers along his arm.

"Show our guests your light," she commanded.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, reluctantly, a soft golden glow began to emanate from Auriel's skin. It was faint, barely more than a whisper of what it must have been when he was free, but it was still beautiful enough to make the demons at the table lean forward with interest.

"Remarkable," the Marquis breathed. "And this causes him no distress?"

"Oh, quite the opposite." Seraphina's touch moved to Auriel's wrist, and Kieran saw the angel's jaw clench almost imperceptibly. "The binding ensures that using his power is... uncomfortable. The more he uses, the more it hurts. Show them, Gabriel."

The glow brightened slightly, and this time Kieran caught the sharp intake of breath, the way Auriel's free hand clenched at his side. The angel's face remained perfectly composed, but sweat beaded at his temples.

"Fascinating," Lady Valdris murmured. "His own power turned against him. How delightfully poetic."

"I thought so." Seraphina released Auriel's wrist, and the glow immediately faded. "You may return to your position."

Auriel stepped back without a word, but as he moved, his eyes met Kieran's for just a moment. In that brief contact, Kieran saw pain, and rage, and something that looked almost like an apology.

The conversation moved on to politics and gossip, but Kieran found himself unable to focus on anything except the silent figure standing against the wall. Every casual cruelty, every discussion of Auriel as if he were an object rather than a person, every obvious pleasure his wife took in her angel's suffering, made the violent thing in Kieran's chest grow larger and more restless.

By the time dessert was served, he was actively planning murder.

"Kieran seems distracted tonight," the Marquis observed with the kind of smile that suggested he'd noticed exactly what had captured Kieran's attention. "Perhaps he's still adjusting to married life?"

"Oh, I think he's just admiring my collection," Seraphina said with false sweetness. "He's developed quite an interest in my angel."

The way she said it made it clear that she had indeed noticed Kieran's attention, and that she was enjoying the implications. Kieran forced himself to smile.

"Who wouldn't be interested? He's a remarkable specimen."

"Isn't he just?" Seraphina's eyes glittered dangerously. "Perhaps after dinner, you'd like a more... private demonstration of his talents?"

The suggestion hung in the air like poison. Lady Valdris looked delighted at the prospect of scandal. The Marquis leaned forward with obvious interest. And Auriel went very, very still.

"How thoughtful of you," Kieran managed, his voice steady despite the rage building in his chest. "Though perhaps our guests might enjoy the entertainment as well?"

It was a calculated risk—deflecting Seraphina's focus while also ensuring they wouldn't be alone with Auriel until he could figure out how to protect him.

"What a delicious idea," Lady Valdris exclaimed. "It's been ages since we've seen a proper angel performance."

"Then it's settled," Seraphina declared, clapping her hands together. "Gabriel, prepare the music room. We'll be along shortly."

Auriel bowed his head in acknowledgment and left to follow her orders. As soon as he was gone, the conversation turned to speculation about what they might witness, each suggestion more depraved than the last. Kieran contributed just enough to maintain his cover while his mind raced through possibilities.

He needed to get Auriel away from this house, away from Seraphina, away from the casual cruelty that was slowly destroying him. But the blood binding made escape impossible, and breaking such magic would require resources Kieran didn't have and expertise he couldn't access without revealing his intentions.

Unless...

An idea began to form, dangerous and probably suicidal, but the only plan he could think of that might actually work. It would require perfect timing, considerable luck, and a level of trust between him and Auriel that they hadn't had time to build.

It would also almost certainly get them both killed if it failed.

But as Seraphina rose from the table and smiled at her guests with anticipation, Kieran realized that some things were worth dying for.

"Shall we?" Seraphina asked, offering her arm to Lady Valdris. "I do so want to share my favorite entertainment with friends who can truly appreciate artistry."

As they made their way toward the music room, Kieran fell into step behind them and began to pray to gods he'd never believed in that he was about to make the right choice.

In the music room, Auriel waited in the center of the space, bathed in soft lamplight that made his remaining scars visible and turned his golden hair to burnished bronze. He had changed into looser clothing that would allow for movement, and Kieran realized with growing horror that Seraphina had done this before—many times, judging by how prepared everything was.

"Now then," Seraphina announced as she settled into one of the plush chairs arranged in a semicircle around the space. "Let's see something beautiful, shall we?"

What followed was one of the most obscene displays Kieran had ever witnessed, made worse by the fact that it masqueraded as art. Seraphina commanded Auriel to dance, to sing, to demonstrate the grace he'd once possessed in flight through movements that were beautiful and heartbreaking and utterly humiliating all at once.

Through it all, Auriel performed with perfect technical skill and complete emotional detachment, as if his spirit had fled somewhere safe and left only his body behind to endure. But Kieran could see the cost in the tightness around his eyes, the careful control of his breathing, the way his hands trembled almost imperceptibly when he thought no one was looking.

"Magnificent," the Marquis murmured as Auriel finished a series of movements that were probably meant to mimic flight. "The tragedy of it makes it even more exquisite."

"I'm so glad you appreciate the artistry," Seraphina replied. "Gabriel, show them the song."

Something shifted in Auriel's expression—a flicker of genuine fear that he couldn't quite hide. "My lady, perhaps—"

"Now, Gabriel."

The command carried the weight of magical compulsion, and Auriel's resistance crumbled visibly. He opened his mouth and began to sing, and Kieran understood immediately why this was the worst torture of all.

The song was in the old celestial tongue, words of praise and joy and holy light that had probably once been sung in great cathedrals of Heaven. But coming from Auriel's throat in this place, surrounded by demons who laughed and applauded his degradation, it became something obscene. Each note was perfectly rendered and utterly profane, beauty corrupted into its own destruction.

Kieran watched Auriel's face as he sang, saw the tears that gathered in his eyes but didn't fall, saw the way his whole body shook with the effort of maintaining control. And in that moment, something inside Kieran broke completely.

He was going to save this angel if it killed them both.

The song ended, and their guests applauded enthusiastically while Seraphina basked in their praise. Auriel stood perfectly still in the center of the room, head bowed, breathing carefully through what had probably been one of the worst experiences of an already nightmarish year.

"Simply divine," Lady Valdris declared. "You must lend him to us sometime—I have several gatherings where such entertainment would be perfect."

"How generous of you to offer to share," Seraphina replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Perhaps we can arrange something."

As the evening finally wound down and their guests prepared to leave, Kieran caught Auriel's eye and held it for just a moment. He hoped his expression conveyed what he couldn't say aloud: that this would be the last time, that tomorrow things would change, that he was going to keep his promise no matter what it cost.

Auriel's eyes widened slightly, as if he'd understood, and for the first time all evening, something like hope flickered in their blue depths.

It was a dangerous thing to give hope to someone who had learned to live without it.

But as Kieran bid goodnight to his guests and prepared to set his impossible plan in motion, he thought that dangerous hope might be exactly what they both needed to survive what came next.