Chapter 10
White feathers flared beneath the brutal sun as Sylaira launched herself into the sky. I barreled beside the stream after her, heart a riot of heat and hunger from the anticipation of the capture.
A smirk rose to my lips. She thought she was going to get away, to enter the temple and hide from my power.
But lone prey never survived the predator—not when he’d already tasted blood.
In two steps, I was airborne and closing in on her.
With a twist of my hands, white snapped out of me, coiling around her ankle and ripping her out of the sky. The scream that sliced the forest as she fell sent a thrill straight down my spine.
I snatched her from midair, banding my arms around her waist.
And Goddess, how good it felt to cage her against my body. For that ghostflower scent to overpower my senses and get me high on her.
Too fucking good. And very, very dangerous for me.
A foot collided with my knee as she struggled in my hold. I gritted my teeth, breathing through the sharp punch of pain. It was nothing compared to what I’d experienced before.
I had the scars to prove it.
“Stop struggling,” I snarled in her ear, holding us both aloft with the steady beat of my wings.
“Make me,” she hissed back.
A crack split my composure. My nostrils flared at those two words. No one, fucking no one, had ever challenged me like this.
And it was the entirely wrong thing to do. My grip tightened, compressing her ribs.
Air fled her lungs in a harsh gasp. “Fuck you.”
The low melody of her curse bit into me, rendering me unable to do anything but force myself to take a breath, to regain control.
Because with this body, this scent, this voice?
I wasn’t sure I could even hand her over to my sister.
“Oh, I will, little fugitive.” The rasp in my tone betrayed the primal pleasure rising at the thought.
“You cannot break me,” she spat.
With her still twisting and jerking, I flew us higher until we summited the nearest cliff.
Wind whipped about, though it wasn’t nearly as ferocious as Sylaira. I didn’t dare land, didn’t dare give her feet purchase in which she might leverage to escape me again.
She’d never be free of me after this.
Exposed on the slab of stone, I yanked more magic from my well and bound her in it. Even with our precarious position, the Seer didn’t surrender her struggle.
Cuffing her in bronze would stop any chance of her fleeing again though. I edged closer to a rock face, where she’d be pinned between it and me with the threat of death should she throw herself off the cliff behind me.
“Let me go,” she shrieked again, the sound ear-piercing, and somehow desire surged through me, sick and twisted as it was.
When I didn’t, she sank her teeth into my arm. A jolt shot through me, a dark pain that shouldn’t have been as intoxicating as it was.
“Fuck!” I swore, releasing her. She tumbled to the rock, legs and wings still bound by white light. On all fours, she attempted to crawl away from me. But it wasn’t nearly fast enough to worry me.
Jaw clenched, I shoved a hand into my bag and produced the shackles. In three long strides, I stood in front of her, ready to sunder her from her power.
Her eyes slammed shut as I knelt. Yanking one arm up, I snapped a cuff over her wrist. A shiver swept over her, so subtle I thought I’d imagined it. Shaking my head, I secured the other side. She sank back on her heels, head lolling. My white power dissipated without the need to hold her.
Bronze shutting down her magic, I stepped back.
She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t show an ounce of the defiance I’d seen during my pursuit of her.
A silver curtain obscured her face. Yet it didn’t hide the defeat and despair that had hollowed her out. That kept her on her knees, forehead nearly touching her chest from the slump in her back.
Not even a tremble of fear wracked her slender frame. Not a prayer passed her lips for the Goddess to save her from me.
It was as if life had drained out of her in the span of seconds it took me to shackle her.
I’d expected rage. Fire. Fury.
Fuck, it would have been better if she had continued to fight me.
The sight of her, a storm gone quiet, was wrong.
And somehow, that was worse than if she’d stolen a dagger from my thigh and driven it into my body.
But I had a mission to complete. Emotion wasn’t welcome in my life.
“Go on then, drag me to your master,” she gritted out, the edge to her tone scraping against my nerves.
Her words aimed to wound—and they landed exactly as she had intended.
Teeth clenched, I gripped her upper arm and hauled her to her feet. She weighed nothing, more like a bird than an Angel.
When I marched her forward, she did not look up. Did not offer me the hateful glare I had expected after so long spent running and fighting me.
Shaking off my annoyance, I caged her in my arms and flew us down to the stream again. Overhead, Ilae followed, his keen sight no longer needed to hunt.
Because after allowing the chase to continue far longer than I should have, I’d finally captured my little fugitive.
But I didn’t feel triumphant. Satisfaction didn’t curl in my bones.
A heavy, empty space bloomed inside me instead.
Why did this victory taste so bitter?