Chapter 42
Sneaking back into the palace was much harder than flying after my little fugitive—because of course it was. Nothing came easy with her. Royal sentinels watched far more thoroughly for intruders than Angels trying to leave.
The moment I’d realized she was running, I’d excused myself from the council meeting, feigning illness. The brief glimpse I’d gotten of Stadiel’s face told me I’d have an earful of his opinion come morning.
It wasn’t like I wouldn’t have gotten reamed regardless.
Since returning, I’d been reckless. Uncaring of the consequences. Torn through protocol like it was nothing more than a suggestion.
And I was suffering for it—from all directions.
Iaoth’s suspicion. Stadiel’s fury. Sylaira’s silence.
Yet with my mate in my arms, her heartbeat in sync with mine…I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything else. Iaoth’s expectations, my duty, her hatred, the war—everything quieted when she was pressed against me.
The bond purred like a knife’s kiss—caressing and cruel.
I’d let Sylaira get too far, and the sharp cuts into my soul were punishment, lest I forget my duty again.
Whether we’d have to remain within a certain proximity for the rest of our lives or if we’d be able to separate once I’d claimed her, I wasn’t sure.
Guilt weighed my shoulders down. I was a terrible mate, especially because Sylaira would rather be anywhere else but with me.
I didn’t have time to linger on failures that were better left buried. Not when Thalvireth’s guards might be on an aerial patrol. I paused, feathers whispering through the air, and listened.
No polished armor shone beneath the night sky. No voices drifted from below.
Air displaced around us. A dark silhouette appeared against the green leaves. A flash of silver accompanied it—weapons?
My heart hammered against my ribs as I tracked the figure’s movement. It drifted toward the tree we hid under. But then, the person speared upward, clearing the canopy.
I didn’t trust them not to dive down immediately behind us.
“Let’s go,” I murmured, sprinting forward while we still had a chance. The marble wall and metal gates flashed below us as I angled toward the lush gardens outside the feather that housed my room.
I made a quick scan before I landed. Sylaira wiggled in my hold, and I let her slide to the ground, unwilling to snatch her autonomy again. Yet my sternum throbbed. The agony that had yanked me toward her still hadn’t subsided, as I had hoped it would by carrying her back.
“The two of you can wash and I’ll have Lyriasthe sneak you back into your rooms,” I spoke down my mental connection with my mate.
“Thank you,” she replied, but the gratitude in her tone was lacking. Her icy irises remained locked on mine like she had a thousand things she wanted to say and couldn’t trust a single one of them.
Heraphia’s approach forced me away, and the two fell in step while I jogged ahead, finding the exterior window I’d left open for this specific purpose. Crouching, I cupped my hands. Neither female was tall enough to climb in on their own.
“Heraphia first,” I instructed. She offered me a glare but allowed me to boost her inside. Then, my mate approached, wrapping light around her leg. Sylaira had to lean on me for extra balance, but I managed to get her up and inside before hauling myself over the ledge too.
Unfortunately, my rooms were a tornado of discarded clothes and parchment, and we landed in the middle of my sleeping chamber, where the worst of it was contained.
Even my bedding was in disarray, like I’d thrown off the covers and tossed a pillow at the wall in frustration when rising that morning.
Because I had.
Sylaira drank in the space, silver brows rising higher and higher. A laugh—dripping with sarcasm—slipped out of her. “This is not what I imagined for you.”
And fuck me, even when it rang with barbs, I loved the sound.
“Well, I don’t have a lot of time to worry about keeping it clean,” I grumbled, striding toward the attached bathing chamber.
Turning the taps, I started the flow of water in the tub. I couldn’t help but wonder what Sylaira had pictured for me. Loathed that I grasped the knowledge she’d thought of me at all like a beacon amid a maelstrom.
When the two entered my space, I shoved the curiosity away. “Bath sheets and soaps are over there.” I jerked my head in the direction of some floating shelves. “I’ll find Lyriasthe while you two clean up.”
Twin sets of eyes seared into my back as I departed.
Yet when I strode into my sitting room, intending to hide away anything Sylaira could use to judge me, I stopped short, body going cold. A male and female, their backs to me, perched on my furniture, only the tops of their heads visible.
Goddess, had Iaoth and Stadiel found out? How could they have broken my magic ward and entered my space?
I was dead.
Fear gripped me as the larger frame rose and turned.
And aquamarine irises glittered with amusement.
“Fuck, Maelsar, you scared the shit out of me,” I snapped, dropping into a chair across from him and the very female I had planned to seek out.
He grinned at me, and I wanted to punch the expression off his face. “My father mentioned your illness. Lyriasthe mentioned Sylaira and Heraphia’s walk. Math wasn’t hard,” he shrugged.
“Does anyone suspect anything?” I asked, chest tight.
“I told the others I saw them return shortly after they left, Sylaira complaining of pain in her knee. Even took her some potions for good measure. That’s when I opened Heraphia’s window too,” Lyriasthe replied, picking at the ends of her cream colored hair.
“Thank you,” I sighed, vines constricting my air easing.
The three of us sat in silence until my mate and her friend emerged, now free of whatever filth they’d coated themselves in to hide in the darkness.
Sylaira’s gaze collided with mine.
Seeing her clean, seeing her safe…
The storm inside me silenced; the calm should not have hurt as much as it did. The rest of the world fell away as I rose and approached her. “I will see you tomorrow. And every day after,” I told her. There was no room for argument in my tone. It was merely how things would be going forward.
Distance was killing me—killing us both, if the cracks in Sylaira’s mental barrier were any indication. I could no longer leave space like there had been since arriving at Thalvireth Palace. And I had to atone for everything I had done.
“Okay,” was all she said. Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips. I tracked that movement, desperate to feel their plushness, to taste the peaches on her tongue.
But not tonight.
With agony in my veins, I forced myself to take a step back. To allow Lyriasthe to sneak the Seers into the hall. To watch them disappear into servant’s corridors.
To trust that they’d make it back, their absence undetected.
Maelsar lingered, toying with some balled up parchment. “So how far did she get?”
“Just outside of Sivy,” I replied, exhaustion tugging me back into my favorite plush chair.
I kicked off my boots and propped my feet up on the table between us.
“Goddess damn, Maelsar, what am I supposed to do? I can’t fucking breathe.
” My hand trembled as I pressed it to my abdomen.
“She’s slipping through my fingers. Every day she hates me more, and I’m choking on it. ”
Maelsar said nothing, waiting for me to finish my tirade. “The walls are closing in around me. No matter what I do, I am defeated.”
He let the paper fall to the ground. “Then do what you’re best at, and you can’t lose.”
A scoff slipped out of me. “And, pray tell, what is that? Because right now, everything feels like a failure.”
“Command. First off, with yourself,” he stated like it was simple. “You’re unraveling, and it’s starting to show beyond the people who know you best.”
Fuck, if Maelsar was saying it, then it was probably true.
“Like I don’t already know that,” I grumbled. “My power won’t save me here. I will not take away Sylaira’s choice. I want–” My breath lodged in my throat before I could spill my deepest desire.
“What do you want?” Maelsar asked anyway, head tilting as he studied me.
“I want,” I paused again to gather myself, “I want her to choose me. Not because of the Goddess. Not because of the bond. Just me.”
“So how do you do that?” My best friend’s questioning ebbed some of the flow of emotion, forcing me to focus on logic. Forcing me into a space where I could think, where I could breathe, again.
“Protecting her. That was what got through to her before, I think,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Each limb was laden, even as I sat in the stillness Maelsar offered.
“Good, then you have a starting point,” he said, shoving up from his seat. “I need to go wait for Lyriasthe. I’ll come back if there is any issue.”
I dropped my head into my hands as he departed. Then slid to my knees, prostrating myself on the ground.
There was no battlefield, no Command, no sword to wield. Only all the ways I’d failed my duty.
So for the first time in a very long time, I prayed.
“Radiant Mother, creator of all life, hear my prayer. Cleanse this world with your holy light. I walk in Your truth, illuminated by Your divine will. Your justice has always flowed through my hands. I’ve wielded Your light to kill. I’ve lied. I’ve sinned. And because of it, I am suffering.”
I took my twisted fingers and brought them to my forehead. “Sanctify me with Your grace. Burn away all falsehood. Leave only Your holy order behind.”
Then, I exhaled a long breath. “Goddess, show me a path to Sylaira or grant me the strength to walk away. You blessed us with this bond. You must have a reason for all of this. I swear to You, I will not survive in this inbetween much longer. Please, fucking please, guide my way.”