Chapter Twenty-Three
MERRICK - TWENTY-NINE DAYS AGO
“AMage from the Endros traveling with humans…” a male murmured, his elegant and smooth cadence waking me. “Most surprising.”
“Those on Soltis were bound to have another war at some point,” a different man’s voice drawled in that same accent, louder and more impatient. “But where is the Supreme?”
My eyes sluggishly peeled open, the burning in my throat a bizarre and unpleasant sensation. I was in a bed, I knew that much, a thin blanket draped over me.
The first person I noticed was the man whose curious, agitated voice had woken me. His brown, wavy hair was cropped just below his neckline, a single curl falling across his forehead. The various rings adorning his fingers glimmered in the moody lighting as he crossed his arms.
“Oh, look, he’s waking up,” the other voice hushed. “Splendid, Calias. Your strident voice has disrupted his slumber.”
My stare focused on the Mage man before me, who scowled across the room.
“I was speaking at a perfectly pleasant level,” he retorted.
His dark eyes found their way to me. When he tilted his head to the side, the lone, ruby pendant dangling from his right ear brushed against his shoulder.
“I thought the humans hunted your kind in your realm.” His lips formed into a half-smile, his gaze flicking back to the person behind me.
“Can you believe that, Judas? Humans have the Mages cowering in their world?”
Steps sounded, echoing through the ample space. “It is most peculiar,” he agreed. “Their humans must be more powerful than ours. Or sharper.”
Despite my wooziness, when the other man stepped into view, my eyes bulged out of my head, my gasp painful. Not only was he an ethereal sight—pale blue eyes against glowing, tanned skin, with hair as yellow as gold—but he had wings.
Angel wings.
Oh, Gods. I’m dead.
As I collected my thoughts, absorbing the astonishing sight of fluffy, white feathers, my voice squeaked as I asked, “How?”
“Ah, ah, ah,” the Angel scolded, wagging his finger. “I wouldn’t recommend using your voice for a while.”
My brows furrowed, and the dark-haired Mage rolled his eyes. “Your throat was sliced open. Not the best on the vocal cords.”
My throat…that’s right.
My voice was hoarse. “Am I dead?”
The Mage—Calias—narrowed his gaze. I couldn’t tell if the subtle taupe shadow on his lids was makeup or if he was naturally that pretty of a man. Both possessed a celestial beauty. “Why would we advise you on your health if you were dead?” he asked as if I were stupid.
“Come now, Calias,” the Angel said with a half-grin. “Give him a break. I’m sure this is all very dreamlike to him.”
“Should I stay away, then?” a dainty, sugar-sweet voice asked quietly. “I don’t want to frighten him.”
Calias’s eyes shot to the side. “You’re too caring for your own good, Nathaira. I don’t think anyone would be frightened of you.” He raised a ringed finger, motioning for Nathaira to join him in front of my bed.
“I don’t think—” Judas began, but my strangled gasp cut him off, my mouth falling open.
Fluttering up to Calias’s shoulder before perching atop it was a teeny woman with pale blue skin, a faint glimmer trailing behind her iridescent wings with every twitch. She adjusted her short navy fringe, then offered me a sweet smile.
What the fuck is that?!
“Careful, you’ll catch flies,” Calias said flatly.
My jaw snapped shut.
“Nathaira is a Pixie,” Judas explained, then shot Calias a scowl, the Mage’s expression remaining apathetic. “And there is much else to learn once you’re fully healed.”
The Pixie’s dark hair was tied up in a bun, her pupilless eyes resembling those of a Warlock as she watched me curiously.
I flitted my gaze over to Judas, studying him some more.
The Angel was dressed differently from the male Mage beside him.
Clad in ivory silk draped over one shoulder and cinched with golden ribbon at the waist, his lean and muscular arms and chest were on display—not more eye-catching than his wings, but certainly in competition.
Calias, however, wore a dark, fitted suit with a neckline low enough to show off the subtle muscles of his chest, and pants tight enough to accentuate his long legs.
He was not nearly as strong as his Angel friend, or me, for that matter. But he appeared taller than us both.
Despite their differences, though, one thing between the two was the same—their golden crowns, sparkling with designs that mimicked leaves and vines as they wrapped around their heads.
“Who…are you?” I got out.
The blond Angel pressed a palm to his chest, his smile appearing genuine.
“My name is Judas Aethra, Prince of Azure.” His bright gaze swept over to the pallid man, whose eyes, dark as night, scrutinized me.
“This is Calias, my brother.” Judas’s grin grew as he faced me, and my heartbeat ceased the instant he uttered his following words.
“Welcome to Oquerene.”