Admittedly, Malachai should’ve known you’d break long before you did.

He had watched over you since childhood, unseen but ever-present. He had guided you without a word, a shadow at your back ensuring you didn’t wander too far into danger. He had nudged you away from oncoming cars, sent shivers down your spine to warn you of people who meant harm. He had kept you safe in the only ways he was allowed to.

But it hadn’t been enough.

The rules were no longer his to follow, no longer something he had to weigh before making a decision. He had waited when he shouldn't have, watched when he should have acted. And when he finally understood that Heaven would not save you, that they did not care the way he did - he let go.

He fell.

And now, it was too late to go back.

When he appeared before you for the first time, his presence was heavier, darker than it should have been. His wings loomed behind him, not the pristine white they once were, but streaked with black and crimson. He reached out, gloved fingers brushing against your tear-streaked face, his red eyes burning with something dark, something unyielding.

“Do not fear me. My name is Malachi. I have been watching you. You were never meant to suffer alone,” he murmured, his voice low, steady, and laced with something dangerous. “But I won’t make that mistake again.”

He wasn’t your angel anymore.

But you were still his.