Chapter 8
Feather
Or duct tape them shut, since he was usually insulting me when he spoke in my presence.
But now, those lips were doing an Oscar-worthy impression of a dying goldfish, his eyes were bulging, and he sounded like an asthmatic in the middle of pollen season. “Fe-Fe-Fe-” he sputtered. His throat flexed strangely, like he was choking on something.
“Oh, farking heck, have you swallowed your tongue?” I ran over to him and slapped him on the back.
“Spit it out, Ry! Spit it out!” I pounded at least three or four more times, as high up between his wings as I could reach, before he stopped making that odd face and resumed his angry, tortured look.
I had just let out a sigh of relief when I felt his hands gripping my arms and the floor fall away.
“What are you doing?” I managed to say as he swung me in front of him, staring into my face, his jaw clenched, his eyes brimming with… Wait. What was he doing?
Before I could take a breath, he’d pulled me into a hug so hard, I was afraid some of my newly formed bones would snap.
“Ry,” I gasped. “Too tight.”
Instantly, he loosened his grip, but he didn’t let go. He held me firmly, whispering something into my hair. I could only make out a few words, but they sounded like prayers. He was thanking someone, over and over, but the rest… My mouth dropped open when I realized what it was.
It was my name. My first nickname from my life on Earth: Tili.
“Where did you hear that?” I asked, but he didn’t answer.
He was… kissing my hair? Yes, kissing my hair, his arms banded around my waist, his hands moving up and down my back in a sensual massage.
Well, he might not have meant it to be sensual, but my body was taking it that way.
“Um, Ry?” I squeaked, clenching my thighs as he rumbled something against my neck that sent tiny shockwaves all the way down to my lady parts. “You can put me down.”
“Never going to let you leave again,” he said, but he lowered me slowly to the floor. “Never forgive myself for letting you go before.” I blinked up into his ravaged face for a moment, and for some reason, placed a hand on one side of his jaw.
“I didn’t want to go the last time, really. But I had to—”
“No.” His hands were on my arms again, but this time shaking me. Ah, there was the Ry I knew. “You will not go through that gate again.” He stopped, obviously trying to control his emotions. “How did you get back?”
“Um, that is a very long story,” I said, feeling exhausted already.
“Like, a post-nap convo. Can I get back to you, and borrow a shirt maybe?” His cheeks darkened, and in a second, he’d whipped off his white shirt and wrapped it around me.
I swallowed hard at the expanse of gorgeous, golden skin.
His abs were rows of tiny dunes I wanted to finger surf down.
There was a trail of darker hairs that started at his chest and marked the way to his belly button, and then lower.
I snatched my hands back when I realized I’d almost reached out to tug his pants down and see where the trail ended.
Probably in Scotland. That’s where the Loch Ness monster lives, after all.
I had no business touching Righteous, or even thinking about his enormous, Jurassic-sized package, I reminded myself. I was a mated woman. I rubbed the back of my neck, and suddenly realized the feather Mik had placed on my nape was gone.
Of course it was. And I wasn’t mated now. The knowledge gutted me.
Ry must have seen my shock since he shook his head slightly. “It returned to his wing the instant you walked through the gate.” I felt slightly relieved; hopefully that meant Mikhail hadn’t been hurt by my leaving. But Ry frowned. “Tili… Feather, how—”
I held up one hand, silently asking him to wait. “I need to go see Mikhail, if he’ll see me.”
Ry sighed heavily. “He’s not doing well. Soulmates don’t survive long without their other half. When you left, it almost killed him. He’s so weak. If it weren’t for Sunny, forcing him to eat…”
I had hurt Mikhail, almost killed him? “But his feather! You said—” My heart lurched, and I had his arms in my tight grip now. “Take me to him now!”
Those perfect lips curled into a rueful smile. “He’s not going anywhere, Tili. And you can fly yourself, you know.” His eyes lingered on my wings, and a furrow formed between his brows. “Or maybe you can’t. But you do have wings, sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of?” I turned in a circle, trying to see what he meant, only stopping when Ry grabbed me again.
“You look like a puppy chasing its tail.” He reached out and snagged the end of one of my wings, pulling it forward. But not very far forward. “I’ve never seen wings this small,” he mused, running his hands over them. “And an interesting color…”
I tried not to, but let out a small moan.
“What?” he asked. I didn’t dare answer him. It felt like every one of my feathers originated in my lady parts.
Oh fudge. I had clit wings. What had Rumple done to me?
I shook away the thought. I needed to get away from Righteous’s sinful hands, and his piercing gaze, and the confusing way he kept speaking to me, like he cared about me. Like he knew me.
Wait. Did he know me? He’d called me by my first nickname, but maybe Sunny had told him that.
“I think we both have some stories to share, after I see Mikhail. And I need to see him now.” I lifted an eyebrow, and he let go of me, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“That’s true. Hop up?” He held out his arms, and I steeled myself not to respond to his voodoo fingers again. It wasn’t hard, since my heart was breaking at the thought of my Growly in pain.
In seconds, we were in the air, and in less than a minute, landing in the corridor outside the Maker Hall.
I pulled away from Righteous and ran for the main door to yank on the handle, expecting it to open.
But it was locked, and I muffled a whimper.
When Mikhail had made me his soulmate, I had been able to open his locks without doing anything… but now, I was no one again.
Ry shot me a look, gesturing for me to follow him around to the hidden entrance. “The Guides have been pestering Sunny to let him come to meetings, but he’s not strong enough.”
“How… How long have I been gone?” I hoped he would say days.
“Weeks,” he murmured. “About six weeks. I’m glad you’re back.” He knocked on the narrow door that led into the Hall, then opened it, calling out for Sunny.
“Hey, Ry, you’re back early. Is Hope singing at the gate?
Any word—Feather!” Sunny’s face, lined with exhaustion and worry, shifted the instant her eyes fell on me.
Before I knew what was happening, she’d shoved me and Righteous back out into the dim corridor, closing the door almost all the way behind her.
“What—” Ry began.
But he subsided as Sunny glared at him and hissed, “Can a High Angelus have a heart attack? Want to find out?”
Then Sunny turned that glare on me. Emotions flickered past like an old-fashioned movie.
Shock, disbelief, wonder, anger, confusion, joy, and then…
her features settled on hurt. Her mouth worked for a moment, then she said, so softly I almost couldn’t hear her words, “You left me. You said you were my ride or die friend.”
“Birch,” I corrected, my heart aching. “I’m so sorry, Sunny. I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“The right thing is almost always the hard thing,” Righteous murmured behind me. I cringed to hear that now, knowing how much my sacrifice must have hurt Sunny and Mikhail.
More than I’d imagined.
I reached for her with one hand. “Please, forgive me. I promise, I’ll never leave without telling you again.”
Her lips trembled as she grabbed my hand. “You’re not even going to the bathing chamber without me again.” Then her arms were around me, squeezing so hard that I wondered if my atoms were as tightly packed as they should be. She pulled back, wiping her face.
“No freckles?” I blinked, stepping back. “Wow, Sunny. You got taller. And shinier. You’re perfect!” Her brown-bronze skin glowed from within, and pulsed with an ethereal light.
“Perfectly pure,” she said, admiring her own pristine arm. “I’ve been taking care of your mate for you. It’s good for the complexion. He says I could ascend if I wanted. I will as soon as High Angelus Gavriel gets back.”
“Can I see Mikhail now?” I bit my lip. “I… I need to explain, and apologize.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t upset him. He almost died.” I nodded. “Do you love him?” she asked baldly.
I stammered for a moment. For some reason, Sunny’s eyes went to Righteous, standing behind me. I could feel the heat from his body, he was so close.
“If you go in there, it needs to be because you want him. Want to be with him.”
“I thought you didn’t approve of me being his mate,” I said quietly. “I thought it was some sort of heresy.”
“That’s when I believed you were a Novice.
” She smirked. “Look at you, Feather. I’m not sure what you are now, but you’re no Novice.
” I stared down at my own arms, wondering at the silvery-gray glow.
I hadn’t bothered to really look at myself before.
As I watched, I saw swirls of color—silver, charcoal gray, and flecks of gold—swimming underneath the skin.
Moving, like the landscapes in the gate.
Or like the screaming faces in Rumple’s skin.
“Stop that,” I whispered to a swirl of color on my forearm. And to my shock and consternation, it stopped. My skin, or whatever it was underneath there, stopped moving. I blinked up at Sunny. “That can’t be good.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but Mikhail’s voice, weary and thready, called out, “Sunny? Was that Righteous?” I gasped. He sounded frail.
Sunny held me back with a hand on my chest. “Do you love him?” she repeated. “If you do, I’ll let you come in. But be prepared.”
I nodded. “I do love him. Even when I was unmade in the gate, and on the other side when…” I stopped, not sure if I should share Rumple’s secrets with anyone. Or at least not yet. “Even when I was lost, I wanted him.”
Sunny nodded. “Remember that. Tell him that.” Then she knocked on the door, calling out, “You have a visitor, High Angelus.”
“A visitor?”
I turned to ask Ry if he was coming in, but he’d vanished. Sunny pushed the door wide, and I stepped into the place where I had spent months torturing myself with a soul knife, suddenly realizing that torture had been nothing compared to what I was feeling now.
Mikhail’s bed had been moved close to the fire.
The room was almost stiflingly hot, but his bed had blankets piled up all around him.
One of his wings trailed off the side of the bed, dropping onto the floor, but the other was wrapped around him.
His face was turned toward the fire, and even from where I stood, I could tell he had lost a significant amount of weight…
and most of the glow that had made him seem to shine, even in the dark.
I approached, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak, and realized as I got close that he had the t-shirts I’d made for him tucked all around his body.
“Do you know what I regret most?” His voice startled me, and I froze.
He went on, without looking behind him. The firelight sent sparkles of red and gold along his shaggy dark hair, and my fingers itched to reach out to him.
But I listened instead. “She told me she loved me. She was so brave to speak of her feelings when our mating was new, braver than I was. And far more generous. She didn’t expect me to return her love…
and now I can never tell her that I did.
I loved her as completely as a soul can love.
In a few short months, I went from knowing I would live forever alone, to having the one I’d waited my entire life for in my arms, to losing her.
Because I wasn’t as great-souled as she.
” I stifled a sob with my fist. “Mikhail the Great-Souled, my Maker called me. If she had known my Feather, she wouldn’t have wasted that name on one such as me. ”
I took a hesitant step forward, hearing the door behind me close.
Sunny was giving us privacy. I would thank her later, when I could speak.
I closed the remaining distance between us, and stared down at my former mate.
His eyes were shut, the light playing on the dozens of scars on his craggy face.
Marks from his time creating Novices, and learning his craft.
I knew his body was similarly covered with deeper scars, from carving out pieces of himself to form the new souls needed to protect Earth, and Sanctuary.
“I can almost smell her, Sunny,” he rasped, his lips cracked.
His features were sharper than they had been, his whole self somehow smaller, though the muscles in his arms still made my mouth dry.
“I know she’s gone. I know I’ll never see her again.
But it feels like she’s near.” He let out a soft laugh.
“If she could return, I would tell her how I loved her. How I will never stop, though this form is dying. If I could have one thing, one prayer answered… it would be to see her again, hear her voice. I wonder what she would say?”
I fought to make my voice work. “She would tell you she was sorry, and ask you to forgive her for leaving.”