Above the Ashen Clouds (Twisted Worlds #2)

20. Cat

Chapter twenty

Cat

T he day ticked by, second by painful second. How could I focus on anything, including the book in front of me? Normally I’d have been fascinated by the illustrations of flowers that didn’t exist in this world, including flowers with feathers. Instead, I caught myself looking at the feathers next to me—attached to an angel.

Zariel.

I had to stop watching him, memorizing his face. His brows were knit together, focused on the task in front of him, translating words from otherworldly languages with the ease of an expert musician, plucking out words like notes of music.

Was he thinking about me, about how we were going to spend the night together? I couldn’t tell. He focused on his task with the same concentration as always. What would he feel like, pressed against me, my back against his warm chest? Would his wings stay over us, encasing us in an intimate cocoon? What would his hands do in the privacy that he created? Would he just hold me, or would he do more?

Each moment brought me closer—Zariel was going to spend the night next to me. In his bed.

Tonight.

My robes suddenly felt too small, the fabric tight against my breasts. I had to steady myself. In this silent room, he’d hear my breath catch, and if he asked me what was wrong, what could I say?

After hours that had stretched into an aching eternity, now—finally—we were on our way back to his apartment. As we walked, I gripped my dress’s gauzy fabric, worrying it through my fingers, eying Zariel cautiously when he wasn’t looking. Tonight was a turning point, a moment that would separate before from the after. Everything between us was going to change.

But what would be left when it did? Would he still want me, once he had taken me? Would we still enjoy each other’s company?

“Zariel,” a male voice called out. We turned to find the angel, who had flown from the levels above us to land by our side. The sun was already fading and throwing a dim glow over the mountain’s interior, forcing the pine trees to cast stately shadows against the white crusted ash. The ash reflected the light, making it shine like millions of little stars dancing on the edge of darkness.

“Cael,” I said, out of surprise.

He grinned. “You remember me.”

“Considering you’re the only other one who has bothered to talk to me, how could I forget?”

Cael frowned, smoothing his long brown hair that was tousled from the flight. “It’s been that bad?”

“About what we could expect,” Zariel said, crossing his arms. “Not that you were here. Or all that friendly yourself the last time that we met.”

“Can you blame me? I’ve been worried about you for years, and then you arrive with a human—”

“It’s done,” I said, moving closer to Zariel. “I think it’s fair to say that Cael was just surprised. As were we all.” Was I entirely warm to Cael when we met? No. I was terrified. And I didn’t know how I felt about him now. But hearing Zariel say such nice things about Cael over the last few weeks made me realize his earlier frostiness wasn’t personal—it was born of fear for Zariel. That made two of us.

Zariel searched my face and then relaxed, facing Cael once more. “I’m just glad you are here,” he said. “There’s so much I want to tell you.”

“I’m sure. I wish I could say that the others will get better, but they won’t,” Cael said. “Not unless something drastic happens. She is still a human in the mountain. ”

“I didn’t expect to see you for some time,” Zariel said, an eyebrow raised. “I heard you were sequestered on a project. Along with pretty much all our friends.”

“I am. We are. And I can’t talk about it.” A strange expression passed over Cael’s face, one that made me step even closer to Zariel out of reflex. He protectively put his hand on my lower back, drawing me against him, wings fluttering behind us. I couldn’t appreciate how close I was to him, not when there were so many possible dangers building under the surface. Was Cael’s announcement going to make all our fears become real? People generally didn’t frown for good news. Cael watched our interaction, the obvious familiarity that was now between us—that we were something —but didn’t comment.

“I’d never ask you to betray their confidences,” Zariel said solemnly. His hand tightened on my back.

“And I’d never dream of doing so. Just, Zariel?” Cael paused, as if searching for the right words. “Do you remember when we first learned about runic magic? What was that book called?”

“ Bound in Earth ?”

“No. Not that one.”

“ Azarlius’s Folies ?”

“Certainly not that one.”

“Bindings: Blood and Bond ?”

“Yes. That’s it. ”

Zariel coughed. “How could I forget?” He turned to me and said, “It’s a manual for learning our magic, they gave it to us right before the exams for joining the library. We were expected to memorize it.”

“Not all of it, not even for the best student in our class.” Cael gave Zariel a pointed look.

“Zariel was the best?” I asked.

“By far. Even before his rune.”

“He never told me that.”

“Of course not. That wouldn’t be like him. And he should have a better position than he currently does—don’t let him convince you otherwise.” Cael turned his attention back to Zariel. “So you agree, we didn’t memorize the entire tome?”

“Well, no, not all of it was relevant to our study. Most of the editions didn’t even have certain, more controversial chapters, especially since they are theoretical. No point in making students memorize something that may not exist.” Zariel paused, but not before delving into a long rant about the origins of the book, its authors, and discussing how it was responsible for transforming magical education. I understood maybe one word in ten. “I’m not sure I’ve even seen the full version,” he said to me once he started speaking coherently again, “since we were never given a complete copy.”

“A pity.” Cael gave me a smile. “I’ve always wondered what it said.” Cael locked eyes with me. He was trying to say something. But why me? Why not try again with Zariel, who had apparently missed the cue ?

“I should’ve expected nothing less, Cael,” Zariel said. “This is the first I’ve seen you in weeks, and here you are, reminding me of awful memories.”

“I’ve enjoyed the library,” I said, letting Zariel distract anyone who might’ve been close enough to listen to us. And Cael was trying to tell me something. What in the hell was in that book? All I knew was that I was going to find out. Zariel and I had, in some respects, been listless for days, unsure of our next steps for discovering the High Artist’s plan, and now we had a direction. If I could figure out what Cael was trying to tell me.

“It’s a marvel, isn’t it?” Cael said, waving a dramatic arm at the atrium’s open air. “I doubt you humans have anything to compete with it.” There was a sudden clamor above us, and a stream of angels poured out of the upper levels, flying in predictable paths. Cael gave them a quick look and then turned to leave. “I’m sorry, I have to go. They will want me back now. But Zariel, if you haven’t taken her to see the mirror, you need to.”

“The mirror?” Zariel seemed … confused. “Alright. If she wants.”

She wanted. She wanted a lot. Thanks, Cael. But how was I going to convince Zariel that there was something there that we needed to see?

We said goodbye and Cael flew off with a gust, joining the streams of other angels who were settling in for the evening, eerily reminiscent of pigeons flying back to their coops. Silently, we made our way back to his rooms, buried in thought. Once we were inside, with the door shut behind us, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what I was going to have to say.

“So,” Zariel said as he deftly struck a match and lit the lamps, “the secret project is apparently in that book and Cael thinks there’s a copy in the forty-fifth alcove. Though why he risked so much to tell me that is beyond me.”

My mouth dropped open.

“What?” Zariel said, noting my shock, flame still in hand. “Did you think I didn’t know what he was trying say?” He shook the match, extinguishing it. “I have my moments, but I’m typically not that dense. Cael despises that book. The fact that he mentioned it without a string of curses was by itself suspicious.”

“I didn’t think you’d suspect the Artists of doing anything you would deem worth spying on,” I finally admitted. “That is, it’s one thing for us to talk about it. It’s another for us to actually try to find answers.”

“I don’t—well, I didn’t.” He frowned. “I’m not sure. It could still be nothing.”

“What changed?”

“You.” He took a step towards me, the air tightening around me. My breaths ran shallow. He was close to me. So close. “I’d do anything to protect you, and if that means making sure that Cael is just trying to show me something amusing as opposed to a threat, I absolutely will. ”

“Oh.” Unwillingly, I glanced over to his bedroom, where the corner of his bed was visible through the doorway.

“I think we should go to bed early tonight,” he said, giving me a knowing look. My mouth went dry, even as every nerve stirred, awakening. “I have a feeling that we’ll be getting an answer to this mystery soon, one way or another.”

W e managed to eat the spiced fruit and buttered bread that Zariel got us for dinner, which made the stuff served at the university cafeteria taste like cardboard in comparison. Moreover, the meal was a lesson in how we were both excellent at avoiding certain conversations—and patient. Sure, some people would have rushed into a frenzy of passion and into his bedroom at the first opportunity, but we had two pressing issues. One, Cael’s visit chilled any amorous feelings for the moment, and two, we were both ravenously hungry.

“This is a treat,” Zariel said, picking at the apples that were coated in some sort of cinnamon sauce.

“It is?”

He nodded, wiping the corner of his mouth. “This spice isn’t common at our home. It comes from far away—months of travel. Normally only royalty would receive a dish like this. ”

“Oh.” I laughed. “It’s from far away here, too, but it’s common.” The cinnamon must’ve been included in the provisions that the angels received. The fresh fruit was something I noted had worked its way into our diets a day after the meeting. “I guess I’m surprised the Artists aren’t saving these spices in case they return home. Seems like they’d be valuable.”

“I’m sure they are saving some. Either the humans gave so much they feel comfortable using it for us, or they want to be able to prove that we’re using what’s been provided.” Zariel took another bite and chewed for long moments before swallowing. “Or both.”

“In the meantime, this is delicious.”

“You would love Highest City. The spices, the music.” He laughed softly, and I smiled to see him so relaxed. “Everything is an art, and treated with the mastery and appreciation that art deserves. Even food. Especially food.”

“High City? Sorry, Highest?”

He let out a long sigh. “It’s safe to assume that name is a very literal translation, made from the worlds merging. We don’t recall the exact name, and from what we can remember it comes from a far older dialect than the documents we’ve been able to translate thus far. We could very likely figure it out, but we care more about returning to that city than by calling it the correct name.”

Home. Someday, he would leave me. Someday, but not today. “What will you do when you get home?” I took a long sip of sweet tea, likely another gift from the summit. “Stay with the library?”

He stared off for a long moment. “I’m not sure if I want to go home.”

I had to carefully swallow to keep from choking. “What? But your family. Your friends. Your sister—”

“But our old world isn’t you.” He shook his head slowly. “And there’s no possibility you would be able to come with me.”

“Because the angels won’t allow it?”

“Because I won’t allow it.” He set aside his meal. “Cat, you have goals that you have worked for here . You have your own life and dreams. You have your friends and family. I will not ask you to give that all up for me. Your studies are not less important than mine. And since I’m the reason you’re here in the first place, that you have this bond, it’s only fair that I give up mine.”

“Zariel. I don’t want that.” I set aside my own food and drink.

“No. But one of us has to. That’s the tragedy of our situation. One of us will have to give up everything—or we will have to part. But all of this is moot until one thing is settled. Do you want me?”

I started, unsure if I misheard, but the way he focused on me told me that I had not.

Want him? How could he not tell that I did? I spent my first days here trying not to think of him as more than a friend, trying not to let this go further—and it was pointless. I should have known from the moment that he told me we were mates that I was lost.

As one, we stood and took a step closer to each other. The room had never felt so small, and yet so empty of everything that was not him.

I took a deep breath. “I …”

Did I want him?

Physically? Absolutely. He approached another step, now towering over me and only an arm’s reach away. His wings moved around my back, pulling me closer to him. He was lithe and powerful, carrying the energy of a building storm.

And emotionally? The bond made me crave him, but even I knew it couldn’t make me like him. The bond didn’t care about what we had in common, that we were able to spend hours talking of everything and nothing. Zariel had told me enough of mates to know that it didn’t make people compatible. The bond wasn’t entirely responsible for making me hate the idea of never seeing him again.

Want him? I couldn’t stop wanting him any more than I could stop myself from taking another breath.

I swallowed. “Yes.”

Slowly, he took my hand and led me into the bedroom. Our bedroom. My heart thudded, outpacing each step, hands moist in his grip. He turned to me, his own face deathly serious, yet staring at me with open yearning .

Once we were standing next to his bed and the comforter brushed against my thighs, he gently took both of my hands in his. And kissed them. He did it again, slowly—taking his time as if trying to make the moment last, and then guiding our hands down in between us. The desire formed between us by the bond swelled into a whirlwind, fed by my natural desire. For him.

“We don’t have to do a thing,” he whispered, even as his voice broke. “I’m content to stay here with you, holding you.”

“What if I don’t want to? Do nothing, that is. What if I” —I gasped—“want.”

A light flared behind his eyes, his pupils large. “We will do whatever you please.”

As one, we sat on the bed, hands entwined. We had known we were mates for weeks, had spent every possible moment together, delved into each other’s minds the way only limitless conversation allowed. But our bodies were new to each other, and this man next to me felt like a stranger again. One I would have to take my time to get to know.

Were we doing this? Were we really doing this?

It was happening. This was real.

With my name on his lips, he kissed me.

Like what had happened in the library mere hours before, every inch of me came alive, yearning to touch as much of him as possible. My core ached with a sudden need that took over all my earlier hesitation. Now blissfully alone, we devoured each other, his lips exploring mine, working their way down my neck while his hands clutched my hair, tugging off the tie that held my braid and winding his fingers through the strands.

“I love that sound,” Zariel said, as he nipped my ear. “That little moan is perfect.”

He went back to kissing me, touching every spare inch of exposed skin that he could. I had no such hesitation. My hands delved into his garments, his body as firm and muscular as I expected. Each of his muscles were worked into divots covering his limbs with a corded strength. One would think that he spent his days in a gym and not a library. Moreover, he was warm, so perfectly warm as to be unhuman.

And then his mouth nibbled on the curve of my neck, and I forgot everything else. Suddenly, my own dress was too hot. Too tight. The layers suffocated me. I worked to get them off, and instantly Zariel’s hands were there, more than willing to help me with the ties and clasps.

His hand pressed against my back, fingers digging into my dress’s fabric as he slowly traced up the garment and around my neck. That desperate heat in my core grew, and I trembled. He moved to face me, his finger curving up my neck and then to my lips, which opened a tiny bit. When he placed a finger inside my mouth I sucked at the tip, my body erupting at the feeling of even this barest bit of him against me and the taste of salt from his skin .

“Cat,” he groaned, shifting. “Fuck, Cat. I can’t— please.” His eyes looked at me, pleading, all earlier restraint gone. “I need you.”

I understood. The dress was now both overwhelmingly heavy and awakening fierce sensations, ones that demanded that they be replaced by him . I was not prepared for the intensity that would overtake me, the desperate need to have him. When he touched me, he would find me more than ready.

We should’ve been more restrained. We should’ve waited. We should’ve—

I couldn’t take any more either.

I was lost, but I wasn’t alone.

“Yes.” The word passed my lips, and changed everything in an instant. It was as if the worlds realigned once more, a sense of clarity awakening me. This was where I was supposed to be, and who I was supposed to be with.

Relief crossed his features—he felt it too. He closed his eyes for a long moment, opening them only to look at me with a sudden ferocity. There was no doubt he had been holding back, hiding what he truly felt for me. Now there was no longer any need to hide.

I moved to lay back on the bed, to let him do whatever he— we —wanted, but he stopped me with a gentle hand around my wrist.

“I told you that I’d take you in the way which angels take their mates,” he said, his voice oddly deep. “Will you let me?”

Let him?

There was no possibility I’d say no.