"That's the key, isn't it? It's not just whatever is in that room. It's taking a chance on someone I already love."
The trees went silent for a split second then began to move again.
"You're a shitty matchmaker," he told the underworld. "You ready, Andre?" he called over his shoulder.
"I am."
"Come with me." Gabriel started walking. "There's something I have to do at the palace. I've been fighting my fate since the first day and unknowingly made things worse. I've gotta fix it."
"Gabriel."
"I know. I should've -"
"Gabriel. The trees don't want me following you."
He turned to see the path blocked once more, dividing him from Andre.
"I guess I need to do this alone," he said under his breath. "Andre, find Rhyn and Darkyn. Make sure they make it to the palace without gutting each other."
"I will do my best."
"I'll see you all there." Gabriel shook his head, amused at how vocal his underworld was being after shutting him out for so long. He needed all the help he could get right now, if he was going to make things right once and for all.
The pride of a master who wished his domain to acknowledge him stirred once more, and he considered how to handle his challenges. Smashing everything between him and the palace sounded fantastic.
Except he'd never make it in one piece. Not only that, but every time he tried to fight to get somewhere, he ended up knocked on his ass. No, he'd have to take a much more subdued approach to execute his priorities. First the door he'd feared entering, then his mate and finally, the rebelling dealers.
I was ready to forgive her. The thought dragged his focus from the underworld into his thoughts once more. He'd been ready to move on with past-Death despite her admission of how she condemned Deidre to Hell.
She'd one time despised the human side of him. She'd not only gotten over it, but became what she hated most in order to be with him. Likewise, he'd have to accept the ugly side of who she had been if he was to fall again for who she'd become.
He dwelled on it, instincts monitoring his surroundings for any sign of danger. Content to let his mind think, his innate abilities warned him, and he whirled. One of his death dealers, a man built like a bowling ball, stood a safe distance behind him.
"Tymkyn," he said, straightening out of his fighting stance.
"Hey, boss. You're hard to track."
Gabriel eyed him, aware he didn't know which death dealers he was able to trust yet. "Mind check," he said, referring to the method he used to ravage a dealer's mind to make sure he was loyal.