Vasu simply disappeared and reappeared, now hanging on the tallest organ pipe. “That’s not going to work,” he said. “But do keep trying if you like.”

Scribes across the gallery began leaping to the ground, some rushing toward the balcony, others running toward the singers’ gallery where Irina had begun to chant over Vasu’s laughter. Ava felt the terror in the air.

“What do we do?” she shouted at Sari while trying to shield Kyra from the wave of panic taking over the room.

“I don’t know!” Sari looked across the Library, probably searching for Damien, but Ava had just looked and neither Malachi nor Damien were anywhere to be found.

“I think we need to—”

“Stop.”

A single word froze the crowd, the room, and everything in it. Knives hung suspended in the afternoon sun. Papers rested in midair. Two scribes froze, their leap from the gallery halted by a single command from the one being Ava had never expected to see in the heart of the Irin Council chambers.

Jaron stood before the crowd, not hovering over them as Vasu did, but standing among them, a creature of such frightening glory that Ava heard some begin to weep. He made no attempt to veil himself. He had become giant. A creature of majesty and power, terrifying and beautiful at the same time.

“I am Jaron,” he said, and though his voice was quiet, it filled every corner of the Library. “You will cease.”

Silver daggers frozen in the air dropped to the ground. Papers fell, as did the scribes. But though Ava saw them moving, the violence had halted.

In the space of a heartbeat, another angel appeared. If Jaron’s harsh features reminded Ava of a bird of prey, this being was a wolf. Silver-black hair hung thick around his face, and though his eyes were a glowing gold, his face reminded Ava of a winter lake. Calm and frozen.

Kyra let out a breath. “Father.”

So this was Barak. He angled his head up to the singers’ gallery. Kyra stepped forward, and Barak held up his hand.

But it wasn’t only Barak who spoke.

With one voice, the two angels said, “Daughter, come.”

It wasn’t even a question. Jaron spoke, and Ava moved toward him. She and Kyra walked toward the top of the stairs, as the Irina around them whispered furiously and parted the crowd.

“No!” Sari shouted, trying to grab both of their arms.

“He lied,” Ava whispered. Jaron had told her he couldn’t command her, but she couldn’t stop. She kept walking while Kyra wept, and Ava realized for the first time what the compulsion of the Grigori felt like.

Such exquisite torture.

Because nothing in this world, not the love of her mate or the strength of her will, could stop Ava from following Kyra down the stairs. Part of her didn’t want to, but the other part wanted nothing else. Her eyes locked with Jaron’s, and he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She would do anything for him.

“No,” Jaron said. “You will not.”

She couldn’t turn her head to look at Kyra, but she could hear the kareshta weeping, even as Barak made soothing noises to his child.

“I’m sorry,” Kyra kept saying. “Forgive me, Father. I’m sorry.”

“I do not want your sorrow,” a tired voice came. “I never did, child.”

When Ava reached Jaron, he turned her to face the crowd.

“This,” he began, his solemn voice filling the room, “is the daughter of my blood.” He put his hands on Ava’s shoulders, and her mating marks lit under his power. “Wholly mated to a son of the Forgiven.”

Ava felt every eye in the Library focus on her. She wanted to shrink, but there was nowhere to go. She wanted to hide, but Jaron would never let her. Whatever his purpose had been in keeping her safe, she knew it was for this moment.

“For thousands of years, we have hidden them,” Barak said. “But no more. Your enemies gather while you argue over petty human concerns.”

Jaron said, “Our sons took your daughters, so this day, we give you ours.”

Ava saw the singers around the room flinch.

“Thousands of years they have lingered in hiding. Some killed by the hands of their brothers or fathers. Some mad with the voices you have managed to conquer.” Jaron spoke to the gathered elder singers. “Find them and protect them. Add the strength of their blood to the wisdom of yours. Do this, and we will enact vengeance for the crimes against you.”

Daina bravely took a step forward. “Why?”

“Volund approaches. He has made allies, even within your own ranks. If you are to wipe this enemy from the earth, you must stop fighting. You have been given the wisdom of the Forgiven. Use it for more than your own interests. Protect these vulnerable, and you will be our allies.”

Jerome said, “We want no help from the Fallen.”

Anurak stood. “Do not speak for those who have been silent, brother. What do you propose, Angel?”

“An alliance for now. Volund’s sons linger at your gates. Grimold’s get already walk among you. Walk outside and see what your city has become.”

Ava looked at Sari, who rushed from the gallery along with several of the scribes from the opposite sides of the room.

Muttering and whispers filled the Library as Ava felt the eyes of the Irin fix on her and Kyra. She reached out for the other woman’s hand, feeling her panic.

“Ava,” Jaron said, leaning down till his mouth was at her ear. “It is time to show them.”