Celeste's POV
*****
"Celeste," Silas ran to my side before I could recover from Azrael's grand entrance. "Goddess, did that thing hurt you? Are you okay?"
He pressed a hand on my right shoulder gently—the spot the beast hit earlier.
"Argh!" I gasped, grabbing his wrist and looking into his eyes. "I'll... I'll be fine." Barely convinced of that myself, I trailed my eyes back to Azrael.
To my surprise and disappointment, all I saw left was a receding shadow, moving fast and slamming into its next target. No words. No prolonged stares.
Just straight back to war like I was an assignment he hated carrying out but didn't want to fail.
"What?" Silas glanced back, following my gaze. "Azrael? Did he—"
"The wards have been reactivated!" Dean Thorne's domineering voice boomed like thunder, making me snap my neck in its direction.
He stood somewhere in the audience section, arms spread out, robes flowing and eyes glowing with a blinding light visible even from this distance.
