Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
I slept within Malakai’s arms for the first time in two years, and when I woke beside him, I was unsure what to make of the storm of feelings within my chest. A bit of that black hole that had festered between us had eased.
The pain was not gone—forgiveness had not been given—but I was grateful to be with him in that moment, with his scent wrapped around me, his breath against my neck, and his heart beating a steady pattern against my back.
I could not deny the fact that something had changed, but I chose not to face it yet.
A subtle golden glow crept around the shutters. Had it truly been two days since my friends and I had been preparing to cross the tundra? Everything that had happened since then flashed through my mind like a mirage of dream and nightmare.
I watched the light brighten and listened to Malakai’s steady breathing, hoping he slept peacefully. But the shade of the sun outside our room was wrong—too bright to be the dull haze of morning. Its golden essence ebbed and pulsed, alive and calling to me.
Slowly, I disentangled myself from Malakai’s grasp and ensured he stayed asleep on the rug while I pulled on my wrecked leathers. My body ached from both the battle and the sex—which I supposed had simply been another kind of battle.
His head turned toward the fire and the light warmed the deep shadows across his face.
I placed a whisper of a kiss on his forehead before crossing to the shuttered doors.
They were made of metal and should have been cool beneath my skin, but when I reached for them, warmth spread through my palm.
Intuition told me what waited outside. I stole a breath, bracing myself before opening the door and stepping onto the rocky ledge jutting out from the mountain, forming a balcony of sorts.
“Hello, Ophelia.” The Angel’s golden glow spilled into the room as I pulled the door shut after me. He gave me a knowing smile. “Sleep well?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hello, Damien. I suppose I’m not surprised to see you.
” I kept my voice low to avoid it drifting inside and waking Malakai.
As much as he needed the sleep, there was also a piece of me that did not want him to see Damien.
I had told him about the Curse and the prophecy that sent me on the journey to the Undertaking, but him meeting the Angel felt personal.
The First Warrior chuckled where he hovered.
“Congratulations are in order.” His voice still carried that familiar booming echo, but outside, amid the magic of the Spirit Volcano and the Mystique Mountains, it blended into the dawn, filling the air around us with his essence.
Like he owned the very mountain range before us.
As it had on the night of my birthday, his presence sent a trickle of cold unease down my spine. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, appraising this legendary being. “Yes, thanks to little help from you, I may add.”
“You know I may not interfere, Chosen Child.” His golden curls drifted in the wind. I met his purple eyes, shades away from my own.
“Why do you call me ‘Chosen Child’?” I repeated the question I asked all those days ago. I was a different person then, but I still chased the same answers. “I am not a child, nor have I been chosen.”
He smirked. He seemed much more relaxed here than the last time I saw him, comfortable, able to joke, even. “Compared to me, you are a child. And yes, you have been.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes.
Damien turned to watch the sun rising over the snowcapped mountains. Pale yellow light painted everything in its path with a promising radiance that dulled in comparison to the Angel beside me.
“Time will tell.” His voice was a low caress over the landscape and myself. Though I ached to protest, his words carried a finality that I knew couldn’t be pushed. A warning pulsed inside of me, insisting that he spoke true. Only time would unravel the enigma before me.
“What’s happening with the forest creatures? And the fae?”
Again, Damien said, “Time will tell.” This time it felt final.
I inhaled the heaviness of that and let it settle into my shoulders, trying to accept the unknown that it cemented into my future.
Lifting my chin, the cool morning breeze washed away any weariness threading through me.
We watched the dawn in silence for a few peaceful moments before I could no longer stand the tide of questions churning through my head.
“Annellius,” I began, and I felt Damien’s curious eyes shift to me, though I kept my stare on the horizon. “He said the Alabath line is descended from Angels.”
“Did he?” Damien asked, bemused. I turned to him, frustrated at his feigned ignorance, but his face was amused. Teasing me. “It is true,” he added when he saw my expression.
“So, my family had Angelblood in our line?” I had to be sure. I had to hear it from the lips of the Angel himself.
“You do.”
That word nearly stopped my heart. Do. “Annellius said it was removed because of his greed.”
“It was.” Damien nodded, his curls falling into those purple eyes.
I groaned, flinging an arm out. “Why must you be so cryptic? It was removed yet I have it? None of your messages make any sense.”
“You will understand in time,” he promised, and I didn’t know why, but I believed him. Something within his omniscient gaze told me to.
I searched desperately for a question he could answer. Anything to solve this lingering web that wove itself through my life. “The Curse is gone.” It was not a question.
“Is it?”
I conceded to playing his game. “I felt it lift from me when I was in the Spirit Fire. The mark has stayed, but the Curse is gone.” I extended my arm for proof.
His gaze narrowed, and he tilted his head to the side, looking like a curious child. “Can you be sure it ever lived within you?”
“I felt it.” I rubbed my thumb across the web, remembering the pain of the Curse rooting itself within me, thriving on my blood. That excruciating ache as it reached further into my veins and drank from me would haunt me until the Spirits claimed my life.
“Maybe you felt what you were meant to feel.” Maybe he was not as much a curious child as he was devil’s advocate. His gaze followed a wisp of cloud as it drifted across the mountain peaks. I watched his eyes track it, waiting for a response, but that moment of playfulness faded from him.
“What in the damned Spirits does that mean?” I finally asked.
“Do not swear at me, Ophelia. You may be frustrated, but I am still an Angel,” he scolded.
“I could have said worse,” I muttered.
A knowing smiled twisted the edges of his lips, and it unsettled my stomach. “That affliction on your wrist was a pretense. Planted by the powers that be and lifted when they deemed it fit. You were never at risk of suffering from that Curse.”
“That Curse?” I repeated.
He watched my thumb continue to scratch at my new dark scar. “That ghost of an affliction may be gone, but your curse runs deeper, Ophelia.”
The words chilled my blood, though I didn’t understand his meaning. “I was never going to die?” Tolek had not felt the Curse because it had not existed.
“Everyone dies, Ophelia. It is what we are meant to do before the Spirits call your soul into darkness that matters. If you have truly lived, when you join the stars, the dying will not seem as scary.”
Before I could ask what I was meant to do, Damien vanished.
“Stop doing that!” I growled as the sun fully crested the mountains.
It bathed the range beneath it in a breathtaking light, rising and falling with the slope of each magic-imbued peak.
The sight should have relaxed the tension budding within me.
The vision of a newly dawning day should have been a comfort after the horrors I’d faced, but my heart remained cold with the memory of Damien’s words.
All I could think of was the haunting echo of Angels and curses, darkness and stars.