Adam's revenge // swap

Part 9.

Emily's pov:

A strange hum vibrated within Emily's chest, a counterpoint to the disappointment that gnawed at her. Sera might not believe in redemption, but that didn't mean Emily would give up on it. In fact, her sister's rejection only fueled the fire within her. 

It was a flicker of defiance, a tiny spark that refused to be extinguished. With newfound determination, Emily excused herself and strolled out onto the expansive gardens.

Sunbeams dappled the manicured lawns, casting playful shadows that danced with the gentle breeze. Here, amidst the blooming roses and chirping birds, a semblance of peace bloomed within her. 

The fragrance of a thousand blossoms filled her senses, a temporary balm to the turmoil within. It was a familiar haven, a place where she could find solace in the beauty of creation, a stark contrast to the harsh realities of the celestial court.

However, as she reached the threshold of her quarters, a chilling silence replaced the melodic symphony of nature. It prickled at her skin, a sixth sense tingling with unease. Curiosity piqued, Emily crept closer, her movements light and silent. The source of the unnatural quietude became startlingly clear.

A group of high angels, their figures stiff and their voices usually loud and pompous in the grand halls of the hotel, were now huddled beneath a towering oak tree, their whispers laced with a venomous edge. Emily recognized them – some of the most influential figures in the celestial court, their pronouncements carrying the weight of divine decree.

"The Seraphim runt is a burden," a burly angel with a thick golden beard grumbled. His voice, though hushed, carried the weight of authority. "She disrupts the natural order with her foolish fantasies."

A chorus of agreement followed, each voice dripping with contempt. Emily's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo against the chilling silence. They were plotting her exile! The very thought of being cast out of Heaven, of enduring the fiery torment of Hell, sent a wave of terror crashing down on her. It was a primal fear, a chilling image of being ripped away from everything she knew.

Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill. But a steely resolve quickly replaced the fear. They wouldn't win. She wouldn't let them. Sera, bless her overprotective heart, might have given up on the dream of redemption, but Emily wouldn't. She clung to that dream with the desperation of a drowning soul grasping for air.

Crouched low behind a blooming hydrangea bush, Emily listened intently. She needed every scrap of information to formulate a plan. They spoke of a council, a gathering of the highest-ranking angels who would decide her fate. The date,the location – details she could use. It was a lifeline, a chance to fight for her place in Heaven, for the right to pursue her beliefs.

With the agility of a startled fawn, she darted away, weaving through the carefully manicured gardens.

Back in her room, she slammed the door shut and collapsed against it, gasping for breath. Her sanctuary, her haven, now felt like a cage, a temporary reprieve before the storm. Fear gnawed at her, a cold serpent coiling around her heart. 

But it was overshadowed by a fierce determination. They wouldn't silence her dream, not while a single spark of hope remained alive within her. She would fight. For herself, for Sera, for the belief that even the most damned souls deserved a chance at redemption.

Michael's pov:

A smirk played on Michael's lips as the last flutter of Emily's wings faded into the distance. The plan had gone perfectly.Azrael, his weathered face etched with a malicious glee, clapped him on the back.

"She swallowed it hook, line, and sinker," he boomed, his voice rumbling like thunder. "Exile to Hell, by the time that council convenes, she'll be packing her nonexistent bags for the fiery pits!"