Pray for the Wicked | ATEEZ

58.

I should never have trusted him.

The sun which had watched my scuffle with the son of Gabriel through the grand windows along the walls of my room had been setting for hours. Now, it was merely a splotch of red in the distance, crimson against the warm skies and dangerously close to the edge of the horizon.

Sunghoon had told me to wait. And I had been a fool to do so.

Chewing on my lip which was bloody and broken, I stopped my ceaseless pacing, turning on my heel as I faced the door. Silence. A shaky breath. A final decision.

I quietly closed the space between myself and the only thing separating me from the rest of the palace, pressing my ear against the solid wood. Nothing. Any sign or sound of the muffled voices, footsteps, and presence of the guards stationed outside my room were gone.

A spark of hope flared to life in my chest, and I hastily reached for the handle only to freeze as a faint noise called out through the silence.

Holding my breath, my eyes instinctively trailed from the doorknob to the floor by my feet where a thin chain of gold glimmered in the light from the setting sun.

Gold. The colour of Odeion, not Illenium.

Obsidian. The stone was uneven and roughly cut, the colour darker than night itself.

The necklace.

A broken sound parted my lips as I sank to my knees and reached for it. Shaky hands carefully lifted the cursed piece of jewelry to my face, teary eyes greedily taking in every imperfectly perfect detail of the object that had forever bound me to the son of Lilith.

Jake.

There was no doubt in my mind that the son of Ramiel was behind the small act of kindness, the virtue at the very heart of his own court.

The jagged piece of obsidian dangled back and forth in front of my eyes like a stolen piece of the midnight skies, its edges gilded like the chain which was wrapped around my fingers. The metal was still warm as if someone had taken great care of hiding it, clutched in a hand, buried in a pocket, covered by a shirt.

It was so small, so delicate, and undoubtedly frivolous and insignificant to anyone who was a stranger to the journey it had endured. It had seen betrayal. It had seen love. It had connected two souls, destined to be enemies rather than allies, and it had been the reason for their downfall.

Only when another faint whisper called out from beneath the door and a small note fluttered through the narrow opening did I take my eyes off the necklace.

Securing it around my neck, I took the small piece of parchment into my hands, immediately recognizing the writing as Niki's. Charity.

Tears were trailing down my cheeks at their compassion. Beyond grateful for their begrudging loyalty, for the fact that they had betrayed their very nature for me, the fact that they had cared enough to risk everything for me, the flame of hope which had dared to grow at their generosity lingered for a while longer.

And then it died out, leaving me cold and hopeless as I wiped my eyes and recognized the four words written on the note. My heart stopped, and my breath caught in my throat as I felt my entire world come to a halt.

Throne room.

Sundown.

And, at the very bottom.

Execution.

My eyes widened as I remembered the setting sun, and I whipped around to see it kiss the edge of the horizon in the very distance, crimson and cruel as it returned my stare. I was out of time.