The burning sigil carved into Azrael's chest was more than just a mark—it was a curse designed with three millennia of divine experience in breaking rebellious spirits. As the adrenaline from the battle faded, he could feel its true purpose beginning to manifest. Each heartbeat sent pulses of holy fire through his circulatory system, not meant to kill but to weaken, to slowly drain away the power that made him a threat.

Elena knelt beside him as he sat heavily on the sanctuary's steps, ...