Chapter 26
Helena
The soundof voices bickering snaps me out of my drug-induced slumber. My eyes slowly flutter open, revealing the stark white walls of a hospital room. It’s not as intimidating as what I’m assuming was the ICU I just left. As my vision clears, I recognize the familiar tones of the argument.
And then, I see them. Standing at the foot of my bed are two men who represent opposite worlds that I’ve been desperately trying to keep separate. On one side is Uncle Lucifer, radiating an imposing presence and an air of arrogance that fills the room. On the other is my hot archangel boyfriend, Raphael, his stance defiant in the face of my uncle’s wrath.
Lucifer’s voice booms, echoing off the walls. “What the hell are you doing here? I don’t want you near my niece!”
Raphael squares his shoulders. Although handsome in black scrubs and a white coat, he looks exhausted. “Guess what, pal? You don’t get to make that call.” He stabs an accusing finger in my uncle’s chest, which does not sit well with him.
“You’ve always been nothing but trouble, Raphael!” Lucifer hisses, shoving his hand away.
The tension in the room is tangible, like a taut string ready to snap. A wave of anxiety washes over me as I watch my worst nightmare unfold––both of my worlds colliding in a catastrophic blast. The hospital machinery beeps hurriedly, matching my rising anxiety.
“Darling!” Lucifer’s tone shifts abruptly as he notices I’m awake. He approaches the bed, his expression immediately softening. “When can we get you out of here?” His voice trails off, wrinkling his nose as he glances around the room. “This place is so... holy.”
I glance down at my ID bracelet, the bold Angelstone Community Hospital logo catching my eye. A twinge of guilt hits me as I realize this hospital is owned by Lucifer’s sworn archangel enemies.
Raphael moves to my other side. “Baby, how are you feeling?” His voice is gentle and comforting, the complete opposite of Lucifer’s harshness. “Don’t listen to that old fool. You’ll stay here for as long as you need.”
“She’s no ordinary demon, but a Morningstar,” Lucifer blurts in a smug tone. “She’ll heal in no time.”
“Helena is not a demon!” Raphael snaps. “She’s human!”
A scornful smirk twists my uncle’s expression. “The lesser half of her is,” he mumbles derisively.
My mouth opens to speak, but words fail me.
“And when you do come back,” Lucifer adds with an encouraging smile, “we’ll have a grand celebration at the DeLux. Everyone is eagerly awaiting your return—especially Kane. He’s been worried sick about your well-being.”
At the mention of my uncle’s head of security, my heart skips a beat. I shudder, the blood in my veins instantly turning ice cold.
Raphael notices the sudden shift in my demeanor. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his brow furrowed with concern.
I can’t speak; dread paralyzes me as memories of the attack I suffered at the DeLux Café come flooding back. The images are wildly vivid and terrifying, and I can’t stop shaking, swept in sheer dread.
“Helena?” Lucifer’s voice is laced with worry. “Wait a minute…” he murmurs, realization dawning on him. “Did that beast do this to you?” His eyes search mine for the truth, and a surge of fear and anger washes over me at the memory of my attacker. “Darling, answer me!”
“I’d say you’ve gotten your answer,” Raphael spits out wrathfully, his knuckles white from gripping the bed rail tight.
“But why? Why would he do such a thing?” Lucifer stammers, his confusion giving way to anger. “That backstabbing son of a—!”
“He’s the one,” I finally manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Kane has been stealing from the club, and… when I threatened to expose him, he…” Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision.
“That bastard!” Lucifer growls, unleashing his rage upon the room. The walls shake under his hellish fury until he reads the fear in my eyes and reigns himself in.
“Don’t you worry, my dear…” Uncle Luci assures me, his voice a mix of tenderness and menace. “I’ll make sure Kane gets what’s coming to him.”
Just then, a man strides into the room, tall and well-built, his golden blond hair a short, wild mane. His royal blue scrubs match his piercing eyes. I have no idea who this guy is, but as soon as he enters, the tense atmosphere dissipates, replaced by a stillness brought on by his mere presence.
“Michael...” Raphael murmurs, instant relief flooding his expression. Is this truly the sword of God’s justice?
“Visiting hours are over,” Michael says softly, leaning casually against the doorframe. His gaze snaps to Lucifer. “Well, well. Isn’t this… extraordinary?” He greets Lucifer curtly, old grudges simmering beneath the surface. “Suddenly, I’m getting déjà vu, seeing you and my brother together again. Last time that happened, we ended up in the Great War...”
“Insufferable angel...” Lucifer mutters under his breath. “Helena is my niece.” An edge of protectiveness laces his voice.
“I figured as much when I filed the paperwork. We don’t get a lot of Morningstars around here, usually.” Michael’s half-smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Anyway, as I was saying… visiting hours are over.”
“When will you discharge her?” my uncle insists, his tone sharp.
“Not today, Lucifer,” Michael replies, his voice holding an age-old fury that sails collected, yet potent.
Uncle Luci lets out a low chuckle, his chest rumbling with a mix of amusement and frustration. “Oh… you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Michael cracks half a grin, acknowledging the unspoken history between them.
“Lucifer, I think you should leave,” Raphael says, straightening with military resolve. His muscular physique seems to expand, authority ringing through each syllable.
My uncle loses it. He barks out harsh shouts, the words blurring together as a wave of pain crests and crashes over me. I sink back against the pillows with a weak cry, the room spinning violently. Darkness swims at the edge of my vision, threatening total oblivion if something doesn’t give way soon.
Through the dizzy haze, I feel tender hands support me gently, a calming voice cutting through the chaos sharply. “You’re in pain… Hold on.” Mercifully, Michael appears by my side, summoning medications to dull my agony. He and Raphael exchange tense murmurs, lost beneath the dull roaring filling my skull. A nurse arrives swiftly, administering blessed relief through the IV, tethering me still from complete delirium.
As the potent drugs take effect, my ragged gasps ease slowly. The stabbing pains retreat enough to resurface coherent thoughts, though the light remains too harsh against my hypersensitive nerves.
Blessed numbness spreads through my veins from the medication, granting respite from the throbbing agony wracking my battered frame just moments before. I float disconnectedly as my strength gradually returns on the pain’s retreating tide.
Through the blissful fog, urgent voices echo as if crossing a vast distance. I peel my reluctant eyelids open to the startling tableau of three immortal giants forming a daunting triangle around my bed, their combined might filling the small recovery room to bursting.
They stand resplendent in ancient warrior armor—otherworldly generals, marshaling forces perpetually at war since time’s first treacherous battles. The sight pierces my medicated haze and I behold their true, glorious essence, momentarily stripped of mortal illusions.
Michael stands at the center, his commanding presence lording over us. His intricate armor of burnished gold and gleaming white mail seems to capture the radiance of heaven, matching his mane of cornsilk hair spilling loose to dance in the gentle aura that surrounds him. His angelic halo may be subdued at the moment, but the atmosphere around him crackles with tension, ready for even the slightest spark to reignite age-old conflicts.
Raphael hovers closest to me, his restless energy barely contained. Clad in resplendent platinum armor, his snowy feathers rustle in agitation. He’s like a guardian wolf, ready to defend his mate against any danger. My hand instinctively reaches for him, seeking the reassurance of our physical connection as the storm gathers around us. As I touch him, he turns to face me, and through his eyes I see the unspoken promises and intense emotions that bind us together beyond mere attraction or compatibility. His glossy white wings wrap around me protectively as everything else in my reality begins to shift and tilt.
Across the bed, framed by darkness, Lucifer’s imposing figure looms over us. His obsidian armor streaks silver in the dim light, resembling the endless void of space where light and warmth cease to exist. His dreary exterior seems to seethe with inner fire, his reptilian eyes fixed on Michael, who stands tall and commanding. As their eyes lock in a bitter stare, it’s clear that there is a long history between them, one that only those burdened with immortality can truly understand and appreciate.
Behind Lucifer, midnight wings spread menacingly, the feathered tips glinting blood crimson in the shadows. Even when forced to yield before heaven’s authority, he exudes a regal aura perfumed faintly of brimstone. The very air shudders with his tightly leashed infernal energies straining for release, promising immeasurable retribution against any who dare challenge his ancient sovereignty.
My overwhelmed senses cannot fully process the silent war raging in this small room. Mortals are mere collateral in this deadly game, caught in the crossfire. Michael, with his steely gaze and determined facade, reads my inner turmoil easily. But despite his role as heaven’s stalwart champion, there is a softness in his eyes that betrays his true nature. I can tell he’s not just an executioner, but a vessel for compassion and mercy when needed.
“Raphael. Lucifer...” Michael calls their names, affirming the bonds once forged by brotherhood in arms, now strained unendurably by opposing principles. His commanding voice leaves no room for argument. “The circumstances require Helena’s continued recovery with no added stress or turmoil. I demand that both of you leave immediately so she may heal in peace.”
Michael’s carefully chosen words may seem neutral, but his eyes betray a fierce determination. He dares anyone to challenge his sole authority. “Surely, we can postpone any further quarrels beyond these walls meant to preserve and protect?” His gaze sweeps the room, daring anyone to question him.
“Fine...” Lucifer concedes, a hint of irritation in his voice.
“I’ll come see you soon, my love,” Raphael whispers softly, brushing a lock of hair away from my face. “Rest now.”
His tender tone soothes me as exhaustion presses down irresistibly. I feel myself drifting off, lulled by gentle fingers carding through my hair.
As darkness creeps into view, I glimpse Uncle Lucifer, hovering silent witness beside dour Michael. Something about my peaceful expression seems to give him pause, stirring unfamiliar sentiments behind that severe visage. For an ephemeral moment, the harsh planes become smooth, almost gentle, watching me sink blissfully under. I fancy seeing glistening hints of sorrow or regret in his dark eyes before oblivion embraces me fully at last.
* * *
Hours pass,wrapped in a blank void. Eventually, the blankness fades to dull awareness that prods at me relentlessly. I rouse sluggishly, resigned to resurfacing fully, though I feel drugged still. As my blurred sight refocuses, shapes become coherent once again. And there, leaning over the bed with a tender smile of relief, is Raphael.
“Welcome back, sleepyhead,” Raphael greets me, handsome face alight with gladness as I blink up at him, confused. “I never strayed too far, just slipped off to stretch my legs briefly and grab an update for when you woke again. But I’m here now...”
With exquisite care, he props me upright, fussing over every pillow until he makes sure a certain level of comfort is achieved once more. I watch him move with fluid grace, all tension lifted from his broad shoulders with my improved condition. Already the image of avenging archangel fades away, leaving behind only the gentle face of a healer.
I struggle to speak through my cracked lips and cotton tongue, still feeling dazed and disoriented. Raphael notices immediately and offers a straw for me to drink from. The cool water washes away the foul taste lingering in my mouth, but my first rasping words emerge haltingly still.
“I never thought... I’d end up... quite like this...” I manage sluggishly. But Raphael’s steady patience focuses wholly on my fragmented sentences without expectation, for which my flowing gratitude emerges. However long my recovery takes, this loving archangel plans facing the journey in full stride together by my side.
“Witnessing such an ugly confrontation with your uncle?” he says gently, full of understanding. Gingerly, he sits on the mattress edge, facing me. “I’m sorry you got caught in the middle, my love. But listen, you don’t need to worry.” He pauses, gaze growing distant with memory. “There was a time once, eons ago, when Lucifer and I were as brothers.”
“Oh?” I can’t hide my surprise at this revelation.
“Yeah,” he breathes out. “And I’m hoping that bond still lingers, buried somewhere beneath the bitterness fate has sown between us. We even managed brief civil words out in the hallway earlier, your uncle and I. So take heart—a reconciliation may happen just yet.”
His smile fills me with hope, reinforcing my fragile belief that we can overcome the complicated dynamics that plague us. This love is a force to be reckoned with, capable of transforming even the most deep-seated hatreds if given the chance to fully bloom.
Raphael seems to read the pensiveness in my expression, for he adds pointedly, “I got Michael’s approval to stay with you tonight, to protect and support you through these crucial hours of healing.” His words are a firm declaration—his presence by my side is unwavering and it’s where he belongs.
He brushes a stray curl off my forehead with a gentle touch that aches in all the right ways. “I know you’ve never needed me to play the knight in shining armor before...” he adds in a low murmur. “Your fiery strength and independence inspire me daily, believe it. But for now, let’s lay pride aside? Let me take care of you?”
His ardent words leave me defenseless, unable to argue any further. And truly, my battered body cries out for the comfort of simply having Raphael’s reassuring nearness, promising safety. With a slight nod, I surrender to his plea, even though it ignites a fiery pain in my sore neck.
Raphael exhales in profound relief. His movements are careful and gentle as he pulls me closer, like a whispered prayer devoted to healing wounds that no one else can see.
Damn it to hell. My body is hurting all over, bruised and battered, yet all I can think about is how much I crave and adore this incredible man. My guardian archangel…