Chapter 16 Righteous #2
“Where is the dang thing?” she muttered, then “Oh, wrong arm.” She attacked my other sleeve, and I pushed it up for her, but it kept sliding down.
“Off,” she demanded. I unfastened the top few buttons of my shirt, pulling it free of the trousers I’d gotten in the habit of wearing when Sanctuary had been colder.
Feather slipped the loosened fabric down over my shoulder and I pulled my arm out, allowing her to lift it up to the light.
She grunted as she rubbed at the bottom of my bicep with a bit of the sleeve. “Really doesn’t want to come off.”
She stuck her finger in her mouth, then pulled it out and started rubbing at the stain that was the size of two thumbprints. When that didn’t work, she leaned forward and licked the stain from top to bottom.
I tried to hold in my groan of pleasure, but didn’t quite manage it. She wiggled her delicate brows at me. “Might need to try that again.”
“Watch it, Scrap. You’re playing with fire,” I muttered when she did just that. I had loved Tili when we were both children, but the way I felt about Feather was a completely different flavor of affection.
I burned for her, not that I had earned the right to tell her that. To even imagine she might desire me as well. No matter what she may have whimpered when Mikhail had her in his arms, about me watching and learning how best to please her, worship her…
As she licked at my skin again, I fought to keep my hands from grabbing her.
My cock jumped as she circled her tongue on the stain.
In retrospect, sitting on the bed had been a grave error.
All I could think about was throwing her down and burying myself in her softness, tormenting her with my tongue.
“Feather, I’m begging you. If you don’t stop…”
I fell quiet as she grabbed my robe and held it up to her face.
“Hang on,” she said, and closed her eyes, holding my arm still.
After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, and I stared into the brilliant green, the color of wet grass.
I could almost watch the memories flashing behind those pools of emerald.
Our stolen moments running over the hills outside the abbey.
Her sister warning us both not to get caught up in the thorns where blackberries ripened near the overgrown, fragrant rose bushes.
That last day, when I tried to save her, and she’d refused to be saved. And chose sacrifice instead.
A tear trickled down her face, and she caught it with the edge of my robe. “Got it.” Then she used that tear to make small, gentle circles over the area where I’d worn the stain for centuries… and I watched it vanish, like water evaporating in the sunlight. “All clean!” she announced.
“Feather?” I breathed, staring first at my clean arm and then her proud face. “What did you…”
She smiled nervously. “You didn’t think I spent all my time making t-shirts for the past few months, did you? I’ve put in a lot of hours learning how to deal with stubborn smut stains. I’m practically the Sanctuary expert in it.”
Before she could say another word, I’d gathered her into my arms, jumped up, and began spinning her around the room.
“Feather! You did it!” I could feel my soul expanding into the space she’d somehow created in my well of energy.
It wasn’t entirely pleasant; it felt as if I’d worn a tourniquet for years and suddenly taken it off.
Pins and needles lanced through me as I breathed into my new reality.
“Ry!” she squeaked after a few more spins. “I’m dizzy.”
I stopped and stared down into her face. “Oh, Feather, I…” But words weren’t sufficient for what I had to tell her, show her. Without thinking, I lifted her close, pressing my lips against hers and opening a part of my mind to her. I needed her to see my gratitude.
There were many different kinds of merges, thousands of ways to blend two or even more souls. But there was also this: a simple unveiling of a deep emotion. I didn’t ask for her to reciprocate; I owed her this and more, without any expectation that she might open her mind to me.
Like pulling the curtain away from a small scene—just a glimpse, and no more—I opened the part of my innermost being to her inner gaze, and let her look. “Oh, Ry!” She gasped. “You really did love me. Loved Tili.”
I knew what she was seeing: my memories of her, stitched together into a tapestry of laughter and longing. She had been irrepressibly mischievous all those years ago, and I had stored away every moment I’d spent in her presence. Hoarding it like a dragon with treasure.
And then, something unexpected happened. I should have known to be on my guard. With Feather, the unexpected was the norm.
She thought, You’re glorious, Ry, and as if a clear spring of power had sprung up inside my soul, the curtain that hid the rest of me—my innermost being—was washed away.
Her unstoppable, silvery energy flowed into me, shocking me to inaction, as she peeked into the space that existed inside me, and then reached further, opening my soul to her gaze.
My spirit’s vessel was as golden as my skin in Sanctuary.
Roses bloomed there too, made of golden-pink energy, climbing the walls that protected my true self.
Music filled the space, all the songs I’d learned as a Novice ceaselessly repeating, but with her name woven into them.
I would have blushed if I was able. She would know.
She would know that I had been obsessed with her when we were children together…
and been more enraptured when she came to this realm, though I’d fought the pull. Struggled, and hurt us both.
And after she’d gone into the gate, I had spent every day praying for her, wishing for this chance to make it right. To show her how much I honored her.
The music crescendoed, the notes and lyrics filling the walls of this imaginary place, painting them in wild, vibrant shades.
Bright green the exact shade of her eyes, silver that gleamed and sparkled like her hair, and even brilliant, glowing feathers in silver, gold, and gleaming gray covered every wall.
Feather blinked, and pulled away an inch. “Are we… merging? Did we merge just now?”
“No,” I answered honestly, but I knew why she was confused. There was so much of her inside my secret places, it probably did remind her of what it felt like to merge with another. The blending of souls.
I didn’t know how to explain in a way that would make it clear I had no expectations of her.
I wanted her, but I did not deserve her.
I withdrew slightly, realizing at the last second that her eyes were swirling with strange currents, as if she were opening herself to me.
I smiled, closing first my eyes and then my mind, pulling the curtain shut gently as I spoke.
“I meant to let you see my emotions. My apology, as it were. But somehow, you got past my guard,” I confided as I lowered her back to the ground.
“You got to see the real Righteous. Or at least, what I value most.”
When I opened my eyes, she was staring into my face in wonder, as well as comprehension. Her voice was tentative and filled with hope. “You value me? But… you hated me, Ry. You loved Tili, but not Feather.”
For a split second, I felt the pain and longing of all the centuries separated from my first, true friend welling in my eyes.
All the grief, despair, and unworthiness I’d kept hidden from everyone, disguising my pain with false pride and a curled lip.
I’d had to be the Head Protector with the others in this place.
But I didn’t have to be anyone else with her.
“I was an idiot, Scrap. I have no idea how I couldn’t see you.
You’re Tili in every detail. Made of mischief and kindness, generosity and humor.
And I am so, so sorry for the way I treated you.
I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. ”
“Sounds promising. I take apologies in the form of back rubs, chocolates, and flights to and from my stupid classes on the no-stairs levels. I’ll forgive you, Ry.
I’m not good at keeping grudges anyway.” She went up on her tiptoes, turned my face to one side, and pressed her lips to my cheek.
A tiny smudge of grease on her lips made her kiss slide to one side, and she groaned.
“Oh, fudge. I’m getting you all dirty again. ”
I stroked the side of her cheek. “I’m not afraid of your dirt, Tili.”
She giggled. “That’s what you said when I gave you the dried rose petals.” I laughed and strode to the table next to my bed, opening the drawer and pulling out a small leather bag. I tossed it to her and she caught it, a quizzical expression on her features.
“Those rose petals?”
She was shaking, as if she were cold. “You kept them, for all these years? Centuries?”
I nodded, though she didn’t look up, only opened the pouch and stared at the ancient brown and pink petals. Her first gift to me. I valued them more than anything else in my possession.
Her voice was raw when she spoke again. “You know, I thought you were my guardian angel.”
“I should have been,” I replied softly. “I should have been the one to protect you. But I’m glad Seraphiel was there for you. And I’m glad you have Mikhail now.”
Her brow furrowed. “Mikhail. He’s my mate.”
“Yes,” I said cautiously. “I know that.”
“Sunny told me Angeli only have one mate. And once you do choose a mate, you don’t… you don’t normally merge with others.”
I nodded again. “There’s never been an instance of it happening, as far as I know. Usually, Mikhail created the soulmates for the High Angeli. That meant the newly created one was perfect in every way for the Angelus.”
“Like Arabella was for Gavriel,” she muttered.