Above the Ashen Clouds (Twisted Worlds #2)

8. Zariel

Chapter eight

Zariel

I took deep breaths, trying to make my racing mind settle into something useful. And failing.

Cael was right—it was impossible. We were impossible. Mates or not, Cat and I could never be together. The Artists would find out what happened to make me mate with a human—perhaps it was an effect of our transfer into this world—and they would fix it. They would fix me. We already couldn’t have children in this world, making the mating with Cat more bizarre. To have children we needed the moon. Our moon—a crystalline sphere in our original world, which legend says is composed of the same substance that makes up our bones. The moon was nowhere near here, so why would I have this bond with her? This infuriating bond.

The Artists would decide that this mate bond wasn’t valid and send her home, and then my life would continue as if I had never met her.

They would take Cat away from me.

My chest clenched and I had to force my fists to relax. They were not going to take her away. I would find a way to keep her. No matter what. I would slice the skin off their necks, crush their skulls under stones. I would drink their blood while it was still warm from their veins, not for any power, but for the fact that they dared to take away what was mine.

I couldn’t keep her. Every conflicting emotion running through me was ridiculous. How could I feel this for someone I just met? The mating bond wasn’t known for logic—it insulted the very word.

Yet what the bond made me feel, it felt … oddly right .

But what if, somehow, the Artists decided that I was a traitor too, like Aniela? Cael was right—by taking her, I could’ve ruined any future negotiations for us with the humans. They probably already noticed that she was missing. They wouldn’t remember her leaving, but they would notice that she was no longer there. They would figure out that the last place she was seen was with us. Then they would have questions. Not to mention that it was possible that some sharp-eyed human spotted us.

In the meantime, it took all my restraint not to tear Cael’s wings off his back for walking so close to her as we moved through the stone tunnels to the Silver Hall, which was the main atrium. He didn’t need to be that close to her—why was he so close to her?

I took a deep breath. She couldn’t be my mate, not in truth. The bond likely didn’t affect her at all, since she was human. They didn’t have mate bonds like us. She came to this mountain for her studies—not me—and when she was done, she would leave. She probably thought that I was an oddity, something to watch and admire. Once she was satisfied, I’d be alone, cursed to long for her until death took one of us. How was I going to bear this senseless yearning in the meantime?

Just the flight to the mountain itself was torture with her pressed against me, her scent overwhelming all my senses. She loved touching me. I could tell by the gentle shift in her body, the way she turned into me to hide from the wind. The way she relaxed within my grasp. I had to hold her respectfully, keep my hands still, no matter how much I craved to do to her what angels did to their mates.

No. She was in a strange place, with strange people. She likely had no idea what I was thinking, and I wasn’t going to force anything on her until she was ready. If she’d ever be ready.

I’d be patient. No matter how she was like cool water and I was dying of thirst, begging for those precious drops to bring me back to life.

“ This is the mountain?” Cat asked once we stepped out onto one of the Silver Hall’s main balconies. From here, we could view the cavernous hall in its entirety, the balconies and tunnel entrances embracing a chasm inside the mountain, with us facing a glass window dozens of stories high and hundreds of feet wide. Winding stairs worked their way upwards towards the peak of the mountain, past additional halls, and eventually to the upper levels of the library itself. Additional stairs worked their way down, spanning thousands of feet and ending in the prison where the light was not permitted. Most angels in this space flew to where they needed to go, but the stairs remained. The library not only held books—it held our lives. It was a city hewn from stone, a place created for those born to fly.

“Yes,” I said, basking in the awe of her gaze. A wave of pleasure worked through me as she slowly took in every aspect of the Silver Hall. “This is my home.”

Cat’s eyes widened further, watching several angels glide through the air, while others walked patiently on stairs, many of them small figures in the distance. “How many angels are here?”

“A few thousand. Who work for the library.”

“All of this for a library …”

“Mind that this library is more than just a place to store books,” I said proudly. “We house our kingdom’s records, and are one of its jewels—a position of rank here is just as respected as one in a noble house or at court. This is one of two twin libraries, both devoted to the same aims. Along with our sister library, we’re working to have a copy of every document and book possible—in every language.” She seemed to be listening to me carefully. Good. I could talk about the library for hours. “We’re renowned not only for our kingdom’s records, but the continent’s. This place, the knowledge within it, and our ability to use it, is what sets us apart from others, what makes us angels what we are. So yes, it takes thousands of us to maintain this place, and we would spare thousands more if needed.”

I would happily speak of the library’s accomplishments, but Cat didn’t need to learn how we used our knowledge. Maybe she would never learn.

Cat slowly nodded, seemingly taking in everything I said. “The loss of this place must have been awful for your home.”

“Yes, it is.” I didn’t have to be a seer who could see back to our world to know this. This library was the angels’ treasure—they surely hadn’t stopped mourning our loss. Not to mention the thousands of angels within.

Carefully, she took a few hesitant steps towards the ledge, gripping the metal railing as she peered down into the abyss. I needed to warn her that she couldn’t expect many railings in this mountain, since this was a place designed for those with wings. Though, her eyes would tell her that truth soon enough. “What’s down there?” she asked. “It looks like another city.”

“That is the Ever-Dying Prison,” I said. “The name was influenced by a kingdom that gave us some of our more … creative punishments. ”

“There’s a prison here?” Cat asked, horrified. “In a library?”

I shrugged. “The prisoners need to be guarded and so do the books. It just makes sense to have them both here, where the guards can protect both. And it’s harder for prisoners to escape from thousands of feet underground.”

Cael coughed, reminding us that he was still here and behind us. Unfortunately. “There’s going to be a disaster once the summit is over and the Artists return,” he said. “Maybe it would be best if you two talked before this.” He gave me a knowing look.

Damn. He was right—I had to tell her. I was going to have to tell the Artists that she was my mate, and she needed to know the real reason I brought her here before then, and the questions she could possibly face. I owed her that much.

“Cat,” I asked, “are you alright going with me to my rooms? I have a few things I think we should talk about.”

Eyes open in wonder, her head turning in all directions, she didn’t bother to look at me when she said, “Yes.”