Chapter 53
Sleep spirited away from me, tearing me back to wakefulness. Breath strangled in my lungs. A tingle swept down my spine, and I gripped Vaeron’s hand in a desperate attempt to wake him so he could walk in my mind with me.
“Vision,” I croaked, the world fracturing, splintering, as I lurched into the future.
Two Demons stood atop the wall, peering down at me. A bitterly cold wind blasted through the trees, and the High Priestess shivered. The male wrapped his arm over her shoulders and tugged her closer. He spoke to her, his voice too low for me to hear. And the way she looked up at him…
Like he was her entire world. Like he alone could save her from himself.
Like I looked at my own mate.
Behind them, other forms moved, black membranous wings tucked close. Yet they paid them no heed, wrapped up in the bubble of their own making.
The male was unfamiliar, never having appeared in my other visions. The High Priestess, though, occupied as many glimpses of the future as the Halálhívó’s mate.
I ascended the mountainside, legs and lungs burning from the effort. The land here was steep, barren, and wholly exposed. Yet they didn’t notice me.
I glanced to the side, finding glaciers a short distance away. The cracks in the stone wall were covered in ice too, and I wondered if this part of Keleti ever unfroze.
The sun rose, blinding in its brightness. I squinted and blinked, trying not to lose sight of the pair. When the light cleared, I found myself hovering over them, peering down at the valley below.
Angels moved in the distance, barely visible against the snow. But could they see my people?
Another Demon flew up the face of the wall, settling beside the two. His burgundy eyes traced the way the other male held the High Priestess, a sneer barely hidden. And atop his brow rested a gem-encrusted crown, the black metal twisted like thorns.
I couldn’t breathe.
He snapped at them, and the female scowled, slipping out from under her companion’s arm and pointing an accusatory finger in the Kral’s direction. For that was who he had to be. There was no other explanation.
But why was he at the wall? I hadn’t Seen this before—hadn’t Seen him involved with the end.
The vehemence of their argument escalated until finally, with a crazed look in his eye, the Kral launched into the air again.
Yet he didn’t retreat from where he’d come.
Instead, he speared straight into the gathering clouds.
I tracked his black form for as long as I could, but he disappeared faster than I’d thought possible.
Whatever she had said, it was vicious enough to make a Kral flee.
The pair stomped into the adjacent watchtower, and the High Priestess gave a loud sniff.
But the sound distorted, warped, and, in a blink, I was being sucked away from the wall, from the mountains, and from the conflict I didn’t understand.
Ice shattered through me as I slammed back into myself. I sucked in a breath, the world spinning around me. I was still so, so cold.
Vaeron’s arms tightened around me, and I sought his warmth, his scent, everything that would ground me in reality. “You’re okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I nodded, exhaling long and low. “That one wasn’t so bad. I’m mostly confused.”
“I’ll still comfort you after every vision. It is the least I can do when there is so much more I cannot,” he replied.
Slowly, I spun to face him.
The tips of his fingers traced the side of my face, the line of my jaw, the seam of my lips. Moonlight spilled through the slit in the tent and fell over his scarred brow. “I think I know where the third battle will be based on their interaction.”
“You know the spot?” I asked him, searching the dichotomous colors of his eyes.
“It is far south from here, the closest to Uzhhorod you can get from the mountains. The outpost is Ilyth?on,” he explained.
“So was that the Kral I saw?”
He nodded, dawn-gray hair tumbling around his shoulders. “It worries me that he was present there, even in possibility.”
“Who was the other male?” I asked.
“Hadvezér Rapp.” Vaeron frowned, and he looked over my head, staring at the canvas like the answers to these questions were etched there. “What does your intuition tell you about the scene?”
I stuck my tongue in the side of my cheek, tuning into the whispers of my body.
“I think the High Priestess is as important as the Halálhívó’s mate.
I keep Seeing so much of both of them. If she’s at the wall, if she’s with the army, then maybe–” I cut myself off.
I couldn’t finish my thought. I couldn’t allow it space to breathe, to take on life.
“She’s pinned between two armies and vulnerable. That is how she becomes the sacrifice,” Vaeron murmured, his gaze capturing mine again. “Which means we need to go south immediately after this meeting.”
Tears pricked my eyes. The High Priestess may have been a Demon, but we shared a terrible burden and terrible fates. I knew what he intended upon us riding to Ilyth?on. He’d hunt her, like he’d hunted me.
“It is the only way,” I rasped, needing to hear the truth aloud. Needing to convince myself of it. It didn’t stick.
“It is,” he replied, a weight to his words that hadn’t existed before me.
Silence stretched between us as I processed the vision—the totality of all of them.
We’d only just begun our journey to Baelii.
The Zahal hadn’t seemed keen on us splitting up before.
And I knew we couldn’t reveal this new insight to him.
Thankfully, it had awoken me in the middle of the night rather than slamming into me while I was atop my horse.
“So how do we convince Ishim to let us go to Ilyth?on then?”
Vaeron blew out a long breath. “We lie once again. You’ll run to him in the morning and tell him you are certain the final front is there.”
Dread coiled in my gut. “Not alone, right?”
“Never,” he swore, muscles in his arms flexing. “Isra and other islanders will accompany you.”
Relief washed through me. Because the Zahal still postured in front of my mate like our bond meant nothing. Maelsar and Vaeron had been right—Ishim coveted me like I was a rare book of scripture.
“Then what?” I asked, exhaling a shaky breath.
“Leave the rest to me.”
I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. There was so much that had to go right; so many ways in which everything could go wrong.
Even my Sight wasn’t enough to gauge every risk, to feel certain in any decision.
“I’m terrified, Vaeron,” I admitted, voice catching in the quiet.
“Of what?” he murmured, giving my hip a squeeze.
“Everything. What if this all goes horribly awry? What if the sacrifice isn’t what I think it means?
What if somehow the Angels do win this battle and we end up in Uzhhorod?
” The doubts spilled out of me like a waterfall, and I couldn’t slow the cascade.
“What if Maelsar or Lyriasthe die? What if Iaoth and Stadiel suddenly decide to make an appearance on the front for a morale boost?”
“Do you really think they are that selfless?” Vaeron asked, quirking a brow.
“Well, no,” I replied. “But anything is possible.”
“Of course anything is possible. Probability is a different calculation.” He swept my hair over my shoulder, tracing the shell of my ear.
I huffed, irritated, even though his touch banished my anxiety.
“I’m not trying to dismiss your fears,” he told me, capturing my gaze. Holding it. Forcing me to understand his truth. “They are all perfectly reasonable worries. But we cannot let them stop us from moving forward.”
“I know.” My eyes dipped closed, exhaustion weighing down my lids.
“Since when did the ability to See the future make it so terrifying to you?” Vaeron drawled, dragging me closer to him.
“It was always terrifying, from my very first vision. Or did you forget that it was you I Saw?” I grinned against his chest.
“Ah, how could I.” A smile tipped up the corners of his mouth. “The villain come to steal you away from everyone and everything you loved.”
“That did come true,” I pointed out. The potent fear I’d carried since the moment I snapped into my power—that by our bond solidifying, I’d lose myself to the violence of him and be forced into a role I didn’t want—nibbled at the back of my mind.
“But you are here willingly now.”
“I am.”
His hand tightened on my lower back. “Even if you weren’t, I wouldn’t let you go.”
“I know.”
Light leaked out of him, slipping under my clothes. I shivered again, and this time from its gentle caress. When it flicked over my nipples, I gasped.
“Let me help you escape your fears,” Vaeron murmured, his mouth going to my neck. He raked his teeth up the side of it. “I need to feel like nothing will happen to you too.”
“You have me,” I promised, fingers threading through his hair and scratching his scalp. He sucked on my pulse point, directing his magic lower. I was bare beneath the sleep shift, and he hiked it up around my hips, shoving his pants down.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he rolled me onto my back. Our mouths met in a clash of teeth and tongue, and I lost myself in the scent of stormwood.
Vaeron shifted, not breaking our kiss, and lined himself with my entrance. He thrust inside me, groaning at how tightly I gripped him.
A mirror sound fled me as he circled his hips. Arousal gushed from me, soaking the place we connected. “Vaeron. Please, don’t stop.”
He rocked forward and back, keeping himself deep and at that perfect spot. His power continued to tweak my nipples. My breathing turned to ragged pants, and he traced the column of my throat with his tongue.
There was no war. No visions. No questionable futures. There was only this divine moment with my mate.
“Harder,” I pleaded, my legs tightening. He obliged me, and pleasure coursed down the chain linking our fates. My breath hitched as my walls fluttered, tightening for my impending orgasm.
Vaeron growled his approval, thrusting faster. “Come, mate.”
With a strangled cry, I did, lashes fluttering against my cheekbones. Even as my back arched, he didn’t cease his movements, fucking me until the very last drop of ecstasy had been wrung out.
When I came down, he flipped us over so I straddled his hips. “Ride me.” He gripped my ass, fingers digging in with delicious firmness.
Planting my hands on his chest, I did, hips working in a perfect rhythm honed by years of Vaela?. My silver locks tumbled down my back in messy, tangled knots from how hard Vaeron had fucked me.
My mate grinned up at me—the expression so full of primal pride as he drank me in. “You ride me so well,” he praised, his fingers tightening. He dragged me forward, his magic meeting my clit and sending stars dancing in my vision.
I whimpered, and more wetness slicked the place we joined.
“I love how you drip for me when I use my power on you,” he rasped.
My tongue darted out and traced my lower lip as he pressed images from his point of view into my mind.
He reached up, capturing my throat, and cut off a sip of my air. “Faster.”
My nails dug into his flesh, and I lifted my hips and slammed them down over his cock. Tendrils of white circled my sensitive nub, making my center tighten. My breath stuttered in and out of me as Vaeron guided me up and down with a hand on my neck and one on my lower back.
“That’s my girl,” he crooned, dark desire drifting down our bond. “Mine. All fucking mine.”
“Yours,” I whimpered, and then he slammed a hand over my mouth, stifling a scream. I collapsed forward, riding out a fresh wave of pleasure as he speared into me from below, chasing his own cliff to leap from.
When my core gave an earth-shattering quake, he exploded, hot cum spilling inside me. We moaned together, bodies pulsing, intertwined and sweat-slicked.
“You take me so well,” he whispered into my hair, pressing a kiss to my temple.
All my anxiety was gone, replaced by satiated bliss.
I sat up, raking my hands through my long locks and twisting them atop my head. Then, I eased off of him, flopping onto my side. I was hazy, blissful, and ready to sleep again.
When he wet a cloth and wiped me clean, I groaned. He huffed a laugh against my shoulder, wrapping himself around me once again. “Sleep, Sylaira. I’ve got you. Always.”
I snuggled in close, the steady thump of his heart lulling my worries into a peaceful silence. And then, I drifted away, into the darkness of dreams of two Demon faces.