Enrapture | The Angels Series Book 2 | Slow Updates

Chapter Twenty-One

They entered a large room, the stone walls stretching to the very skies. The ceiling was concave, with smaller carvings etched throughout the balusters.

Athena remained close to Michael, an unsettling feeling washing over her as they reached the center of the vast quarter. Her instincts began to flare in warning - her power automatically rising to the fore to defend her.

Michael sensed her unease, visibly tensing beside her and wrapping his arm tighter around her waist as he whipped his head around - searching for the impending threat. A flash of light burst before them, nearly blinding Athena completely in its brilliance.

She stumbled forward, losing her grip on Michael as the ground shook around them. She heard Michael hiss in pain - a loud thud indicating he had fallen to the ground.

"Michael!" she yelled, a powerful whirlwind twisting up from the ground to pull them apart. "Hathor?" The little goddess searched for her aunt and lover in vain - unable to pierce through the incandescent white light that pulsed all around them.

A disembodied voice boomed around them, making Athena jump in place as it caught her off guard.

"What is the meaning of this treachery, Hathor? Why have you brought this winged demon into my home?"

Athena scowled at the way her mate had been addressed - surprised by her own anger and the automatic need to defend his honor.

Hathor spoke from somewhere in the room. "Don't be ridiculous, Pythia. The angel means you no harm. Stop this blasted wind at once - you're ruining my hair. You'd better hope none of my jewels have gone missing during your tantrum."

The wind slowed and the light decreased its pulse until it gradually dimmed - disappearing altogether. At the head of the room stood a beautiful woman clad in a deep red tunic. Her sleek, raven hair reached her waist - adorned with a diamond encrusted crown of gold. Her eyes were a brilliant yellow color - even more magnificent than the deep gold of Michael's eyes.

Athena could only stare in wonder as the otherworldly woman stepped down from the altar, advancing toward them. Remembering Michael's pained cry, Athena whipped her head around in search of him. She sighed in relief, finding him shackled to the ground with heavy, metal cuffs around his wrists and ankles.

She narrowed her gaze and delivered a threatening look to Pythia, whom she could only assume was the famed Oracle of Delphi.

"Release him at once," she commanded, the anger obvious in her shrill voice. "How dare you restrain him like a hog awaiting slaughter. He is an angel of Heaven and my mate. You have offended me deeply."

"He is the one who dared to trespass upon my home," Pythia spat angrily. "His kind are not welcome here. And I know exactly who he is," she continued, descending the platform to join the rest of them on level ground. "How could anyone forget the Terrible Saint Michael - Destroyer of Immortal Beings?"

"He was under a spell," Athena retorted, ignoring the shocked look on her angel's face, "he is not the enemy you seek. The vengeance you seek is against the seraph Uriel - our common enemy. Now, release him this instant."

The Oracle sighed indignantly, flicking her wrist to release the shackles that bound Michael to the ground. He stood immediately, rubbing his wrists and shooting Pythia a glare. Athena stepped into him, comforting him with her embrace. She felt him relax immediately - soothed by the natural bond that linked their souls.

"Explain yourself, Hathor. You said an Omnia sought my help, not a soldier of Heaven!"

Hathor waved the statement away, shrugging casually as though nothing had transpired. "Oh, quiet down, Pythia. Athena is the Omnia I mentioned - or did you so easily forget her in your old age?" Pythia scowled, earning a chuckle from the Egyptian goddess. "As I mentioned earlier, my niece has seen a fantastic vision of the future - one I believe might interest you."