Chapter 2
Ican’t let him catch me.
That sole thought shattered the icy grip terror had over my legs. Zuriel’s next tug had me following like an obedient hound. My lungs burned as I pumped my arms in an attempt to keep up with his long stride and close the distance with Heraphia.
The couple’s screams stabbed into my back. They wouldn’t fight back. Didn’t know how. None of the Elessarum did—it went against our peaceful mandate.
They’d simply be captured and either executed or exploited, depending on whether the Issaraeth deemed their magic worthy. Pacifist Angels were traitors to the crown, after all.
But I couldn’t think about them.
Tall grass whipped at my legs. Heraphia leaped over a fallen log. In ten steps, I did the same.
“To the left,” Zuriel shouted, and we veered deeper into the wood. Brush thickened, which would make it difficult for the riders to follow us.
For my mate to follow us.
Bile rose in my throat. I shoved thoughts of him aside.
So long as our eyes didn’t meet, he’d never know I existed.
For Angels, that was all it took for our bonds to snap into place.
One single moment, faster than a strike of lightning, where two souls bared themselves to one another.
Two souls the Goddess had determined should exist as one in this world and all the others.
My vision blurred. My stomach heaved.
I stumbled to a stop.
“What are you doing?” Zuriel snapped, grinding to a halt.
I opened my mouth to speak, but vomit came out instead.
Heraphia was there, rubbing soothing circles into my back. “Love, I don’t want to be insensitive, but now is really not the time. We need to keep moving.”
I dragged my wrist across my mouth and gulped air. “I know.”
But when her aquamarine irises caught mine, concern simmered in them. “Why are you throwing up?”
Damn Seers. Even if the Goddess didn’t whisper in her ear, her intuition was sharper than the hunters’ blades. As was mine.
“He’s my mate,” I choked out, salt licking my cheeks.
Zuriel’s face went ashen. Heraphia clutched my arm and hauled me forward, lips pressed into a firm line. “Then we best ensure you’re far, far away from him.”
Long-dead branches cracked under our boots as we pounded through the forest. Screams flitted through boughs, but I shut them out. If the Issaraeth and his group were focused on the other Elessarum, that gave us more opportunity to flee.
I only hoped that none would report on our secondary power of Sight. That would only serve to send the Issaraeth in pursuit of us. We were the real prizes to him.
Still jogging, I spit acid onto the ground. If only we could pause long enough to rinse my mouth in the lake just beyond the treeline.
“Where will we go?” I panted, slowing to a walk once we’d put enough distance between us and our temporary home to snatch a moment of peace.
“Ithuriel’s manor is close by,” Zuriel mused, peering at the sky like the answers were etched among the clouds. “He’s in Sivy. Or should be. We’ll be all alone there.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? If they spotted you, that could be the next place they look? Besides, he’s not one of us,” I hissed.
Heraphia shot me a harsh look. This had been a point of contention for years between uncle and nephew.
As the head of House Ilythar?, he had a sworn obligation to the monarchs of the Angel Realm.
One he’d broken for us time and time again when he offered us haven.
But never for more than a day or two. He couldn’t risk it.
Because if they found out, his dead body would be hung from the walls surrounding Thalvireth Palace. A visible reminder to all those who dared oppose the crown’s unyielding mandate against pacifism in a time of war.
A muscle feathered in Zuriel’s jaw. “There’s food. Shelter. We won’t stay long. We can figure out another plan on the way too.”
“Fine,” I gritted out.
Whatever keeps us out of the claws of the Issaraeth, right?
Clutching the straps of my pack, I trudged forward. The three of us walked in silence, listening for the telltale drum of hoofbeats, the accusatory snap of a twig. The sun passed high overhead. Sank toward the invisible horizon.
Gold flitted through summer leaves, marking the final hour of the day.
And still, we did not stop.
Not until night swallowed the sky, and a heavy, fat moon reflected off the glassy surface of the large lake. Under the cover of darkness, we slipped down the bank and dug our waterskins into the cool, crisp liquid.
I drank mine down in greedy gulps, having to refill it twice before my thirst was slaked. On the third, I shoved the cap tight, not wanting to spill a drop. From my bag, I pulled out two virelthorn leaves and popped them into my mouth.
My stomach cramped as the herb hit it. We had nothing else to eat. Not unless wild berries brambled through the forest ahead. Or we risked a hint of magic to capture a hare.
Heraphia approached, her footsteps wraith-silent in the sand. “We need to keep moving through the night.”
“I know,” I whispered back, my voice no louder than an exhaled breath.
A growl from Heraphia’s belly rumbled like distant thunder. She slapped two hands over it like she could hush its protest.
“If you start feeling weak, let me know,” I said, looping my arm through hers. Our whole life, she’d struggled with a sensitive stomach.
“I promise I will,” Heraphia sighed, a heaviness to her tone that mirrored my own.
Together we trekked back to Zuriel, whose head was tipped toward the stars.
“Ready?” he asked us. The words had no sooner slipped past his lips before a neigh froze the three of us in place. My eyes still tracked toward the sky, in search of a dim glow. Because if the hunters were close, the legendary auravane would be with them too.
“Fuck,” I cursed, fear spiking in my veins as a shadow ghosted across the treetops.
“Move!” Zuriel commanded. My exhausted limbs begged for a reprieve, but we couldn’t stop. Not if they’d brought a mythical bird out to pursue us.
Which meant one of the other Elessarum from our group had spoken of us. Betrayed us.
At least the Issaraeth hadn’t been able to give his pet a mark, otherwise we’d have been bound in bronze already.
Heraphia and I shared a panicked look and chased after Zuriel. His wide shoulders battered a path forward, but branches still stung my face. A twig snapped into my skin, and a hot line of pain bloomed.
My innate healing abilities—a power that granted both Angels and Demons millennia-long lives—started stitching the wound. Virelthorn only suppressed my Sight and not my primary light power, a small mercy during a torturous pursuit.
I pressed my sleeve to my face, trying to stem the flow of warm ruby. Or at least smother the metallic tang of iron.
Equine screams nipped at our heels. A hum buzzed overhead. Tears pricked my eyes.
They are so much closer than the last time.
It wasn’t my first desperate escape from the hunters; I didn’t want it to be my last.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself harder, faster. Heraphia put on a burst of speed beside me. We skidded into a clearing, finding Zuriel standing at a river’s edge. White capped the fast-flowing water where it broke against boulders bulging from the depths.
“We can lose them if we cross,” Zuriel panted, his gaze fixed on the path—or lack thereof. “They’ll lose our scent. Then we can fly.”
I studied the distance and attempted to gauge the depth.
But in the grip of night, it was impossible.
The water could be waist-high or knee-deep.
Branches could wait beneath the surface, ready to tangle us or snap a leg.
Goddess, there was no telling what kind of creatures inhabited it either, waiting for their next meal.
“Fuck it. We’ll die if we do, die if we don’t,” I stated, bending down and yanking off one boot, then another. There was nothing worse than running in waterlogged shoes, I’d learned from experience.
Zuriel and Heraphia did the same. I hoisted mine overhead and stepped toward the water.
Furious shouts shattered my concentration. I whipped around, ethereal white magic forking among the boughs.
Air fled my lungs as one of our pursuer’s faces flashed in the dark. I yanked myself forward and into the water. A scream rose in my throat as ice slicked my skin. But I gritted my teeth and pushed forward.
Desperate splashing drew the attention of our pursuers.
“They’re getting away!”
The hairs on my arms rose—and not from traversing the swift river. I glanced over my shoulder mere moments before Heraphia slipped, head dunking underwater.
“No!” I gasped, snatching for her. Zuriel dove after her, the water carrying them downstream. I cursed and followed. I was not leaving them, and they were not leaving me.
A rock appeared in my path, and I flung myself to the side in an attempt to avoid a collision with it.
I failed. Miserably.
The smooth surface pulled a strangled scream from my throat as it hit my knee. My leg wobbled beneath me when I tried to dig my feet into the pebbled bottom. The momentum of the river carried me on, bobbing after Zuriel and Heraphia.
My best friend’s head breached the water, her strong arms fighting the current to drag herself to shore. Beside her, Zuriel did the same. Nostrils flaring, I looped my laces around my wrist and followed them.
So much for dry shoes…
By the time the three of us collapsed onto the opposite embankment, we were entirely soaked. Dirt and sand coated my skin, my clothes, my hair.
I fished in the pockets of my bag, yanking the vials of virelthorn free. To my utter relief, they weren’t waterlogged. Neither were the root clippings I wasn’t ready to plant yet.
Small victories.
Heraphia turned to her hands and knees and coughed, spewing river water all over the ground.
Zuriel sat upright and smacked her back.
I scanned the area, trying to judge how far down we’d been swept.
But the terrain was unfamiliar. Lakes and streams carved from millennia of glacial melt dotted the southern part of the Angel Realm.
Flora grew with abundance here, just like in the cloud forest surrounding Sivy, the capital.
Honestly, it all looked the same.
But baritone voices didn’t tear through the night. The auravane gave off no signature sound or warning that it approached, from what I’d been told of the rare creature’s powers. Only its ghostly glow amid the dark.
I peered back the way we’d come, searching for a hint of movement.
Not even the wind swayed the leaves.
“I think we lost them,” I breathed, the words fragile as the peace around us. Rising, I dusted myself off. “Not in the way we were expecting, but I’ll take it.”
Heraphia let out a choked laugh. “We’re alive.”
“For now,” Zuriel grumbled, helping his wife to her feet. His stark white hair was plastered to his face and neck, revealing the severe points of his ears. “But we can’t stay here. We’re too visible.”
He wasn’t wrong. I grabbed my boots and shoved my feet back into them, cringing at the grit between my toes and the way they squelched when I took a step. “Let’s hope that doesn’t alert them to our presence.”
My friends weren’t any better, clothes clinging to skin and water dripping from packs.
I wrapped my arms around myself and strode away from the riverbank. Heraphia followed, with Zuriel bringing up the rear, using a fallen branch to sweep away our footprints. He discarded it when we reached the next treeline.
Yet even as we disappeared among the trunks, my shoulders refused to unclench, with my ears primed for the slightest sound.
Even when we’d traveled far enough to fly, my lungs refused to allow air. I immersed myself in the well of undulating white in my chest, the source of my Goddess-gifted power, and tugged on my primary light magic to form wings at my back. Each furious flap of feather did nothing to ease my anxiety.
The river might have aided our escape, but I wasn’t naive enough to think that they hadn’t caught the scent of my blood. And when the Issaraeth had a target, it was only a matter of time before he hunted it down.