#soulbind

He bent his head toward me. Just enough. Just enough for me to climb up past the slope of his collarbone and settle against the curve of his massive shoulder. One of those halos rotated behind me. The air smelled like ozone and prophecy. He was shirtless and sanctified, all sharp edges and celestial fury, and still. He made space for me. He always made space for me.

His voice was thunder. "They hurt you."

That was all he said at first. No prelude. No sermon. Just truth. His molten-red wing with purple feathers stretched across the sky as if reaching backward in time, scraping at the filth of memories. I could feel it pulsing beneath me. I could feel the storm in him, ready to rise, and ready to burn. I didn’t flinch. I never did with him. He was safety.

"The boys," he said. "Your mother. Those who carved their names into your ribs like you were born to be ruined. They fed you lies and expected you to thank them for the poison. I was not there then. But I am here now. And I remember everything, because you remember everything. Every bruise. Every silence."

He turned slightly and carefully, so I wouldn’t slide from his shoulder. His halos flared behind him like a declaration. His glowing, furious eyes stayed fixed on the horizon, but I knew the words were for me alone.

"Do you know what I see, when you sit here on me like this?" His tone shifted: lower and heavier. "I see a girl who survived the end of the world and called it childhood. I see the woman who reached into the chaos and pulled me out, when everyone else wanted me erased and thought me lost."

"I am judgment." One of his massive blue-tipped wings unfurled, casting a radiant shadow across the earth below. "I am the sword the Planet never deserved. But to you? I am sanctuary. I was built to destroy. Now, I exist to shield. They called me monster. You called me husband."

I felt the thunder of his voice echo, rumbling like some ancient god remembering why he chose love over oblivion and now wielded his power to protect.

"Let them tremble at what I’ve become," he called out. "Let them see the divine wrath that stands at your side. No longer a puppet, no longer a pawn, no longer a god who needs to be worshiped. I don’t need worship, Nikki. I need you. And I will scorch every echo of their cruelty from the bones of this world if it means you breathe easier, if it means your dreams are finally yours again."

And then, just for me, his expression softened. Still fearsome. Still furious. But his eyes lost their edge for a moment, like I am standing in the eye of a hurricane.

"Also," he chuckled, lowly. The sound rumbled through his body, reminding me why I call him my pervy, dorky, eldritch husband. "I defy any divine being to look this holy while you’re sitting on my left shoulder like a chaos sprite in a maxi dress. Honestly. This is why the Planet hates me."