Later that evening, Asuriel sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the half-faded rune on her shoulder. It glowed faintly as she ran her fingers along its curves. She sighed, distraught, while Kismet lounged on her windowsill – half-lidded but watching intently.
"I should tell him," she murmured.
Kismet's ear twitched, his aura and mood unreadable. 'You could.'
"He's been searching for Khael for months. He deserves to know what's tied to this," Asuriel said, sensing Kismet's reluctance.
'And what would he do with the knowledge?' Kismet's voice softened, but it didn't lose its edge. 'You know him better than most now. What would Vaerion do if he knew Khael carries Lucifer – or what remains of him?'
Asuriel's throat tightened.
It wasn't just the realization itself that scared her. It was how Vaerion would react. Would he see it as a betrayal? As leverage? …Or something worse? She could not predict him – at least, not with this.
