Chapter 36 #2
I stroke her wings. “You were troubled,” I say quietly. Their relationship was complicated, and I need to be careful how I speak about it. Valenara loved Celine. I know that, and Celine does too, but Valenara didn’t have her daughter’s resilience. Few do.
“I didn’t expect it,” she whispers. “But everywhere I turn in this house, she’s there. I want to escape the reminders, but I can’t. And I’m ashamed for wanting to forget. I’m failing her all over again.”
I pull back enough to meet her eyes. “You’re fighting him, my truth. It’s okay to delay grief when there are more pressing matters at hand.”
She drops her forehead to mine and sighs. “I don’t want to talk about her. I just . . .” Needed someone to know.
“I’m here, Celine.” I kiss her again, and she melts against me.
She’s with me, exactly as I dreamed she would be. All those moments longing for her . . . I’m not surprised she found a way around my precautions. She’s never been one to give up.
“Your timing was perfect,” I say. “How did you know I needed you?”
“Lyklan.” Celine reaches into her back pocket and pulls out my journal. “He ignored your terrible plan, thank the gods, and made one of his own.”
“That,” I say with a frown. “Is not what I asked him to do.”
Celine scoffs. “I don’t think he cares.”
“And S’lach?” I ask, dread rolling down my spine. His anger rules him entirely. It erases any semblance of control he might otherwise have had, making him a danger to everyone around him. “He won’t let this go quietly.”
“Neither will I,” she says. “We’re past quiet acceptance. He believes he can send assassins after me, enslave you with his rune, throw us into the monster realm, take your wings, and get away with it?”
“You’ll show him otherwise.”
Celine nods and smiles. The expression chills me to the bone. “He thinks I’m a bomb. I think it’s time for me to blow up in his face.”
“Everything is as secure as we can make it,” Celine says. “Now we wait.”
We’re all gathered in the room I woke up in: Luca, Ciprian, Alistair, and Riven joining us. Seeing them in Celine’s ancestral home is strange. It’s not forbidden to bring non-angels into the realm, but it’s practically unheard of.
“He’ll try to silence you,” I say. “If you face him, that will be his first move.”
Luca frowns. “I don’t like that, baby. If he opens his mouth and takes control of you, how will you keep him out?”
“That’s not how it works,” Celine says. “He would only gain that level of control if he branded me with his rune, which he can’t do from a distance. Even if he could, I don’t think it would stick. His silence has never worked on me.”
Alistair glances at me. “We’ll need to keep an eye on Malach, though. With the brand, S’lach will definitely try to control him again.”
I duck my head, unable to face their pity. The brand is an endless, aching sign of my own weakness. Celine may be strong enough to evade his control, but we all know I’m not. Even now, the burn—I frown. The scorching sensation is gone.
With trembling fingers, I lift my shirt and push the waistband of my pants down enough to see . . . except there’s nothing there. Only unblemished skin one shade paler than the rest.
Celine tugs my pants lower, and we stare at the spot together.
“It’s gone.” She runs her finger over me absently. Blood rushes south, and my skin pebbles as I swallow around the lump in my throat. If I’m no longer connected to S’lach, I don’t need to worry about accidentally hurting Celine.
I can be her partner again. Without fear.
“I’m all yours,” I whisper. “Every inch of me.” Catching her fingers in mine, I let the shirt fall and raise her hand to my lips.
Ciprian sighs. “He’s too damn romantic,” he complains. “How can I compete with that?”
Celine’s lips twitch. “You’re not competing. None of you are—that’s the whole point.”
“Please.” Luca chuckles. “We’re not trying to eliminate our competition, but that doesn’t mean we can get complacent.”
“It’s a friendly competition, angel.” Alistair sounds sincere. If his fangs weren’t showing and his eyes weren’t red, I might believe him.
“Thankfully, Branthe came through with a big bed,” Ciprian says. “I don’t remember the last time I got a good night’s rest.”
Does he mean because of Celine’s search for me? Or have the others been worried, too? The thought is nice.
“I can sleep on the floor.” Riven stands to one side, arms crossed over his chest. He’s not obviously out of place, but he’s left enough space between him and Alistair to make it clear he’s uncomfortable.
Celine’s grip on my hand tightens. I glance between the two of them; I’ve missed something during my absence. It should have been obvious as soon as the veydra walked in, but I was preoccupied. There’s something going on. Otherwise, why would he be here?
“Funny,” Luca says softly. “I didn’t take you for a quitter, Riven.”
I wait for him to fight back, but Riven says nothing. Besides a flicker of static across the bridge of his nose, he shows no sign that he even heard Luca.
“Leave him alone.” Celine sighs. “If he wants to sleep on the floor, that’s his choice.” Her voice is even but brittle.
I roll my shoulders back and shake my head. I’ve been locked up in a windowless torture chamber for the better part of a month. I have no patience for false pride or secrets.
“Do you love him?” I ask Celine.
She frowns. “Who?”
I point at Riven. His face flickers again, and this time the static band extends all the way to his hands. Celine’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline, but she isn’t fooling me. She’s the worst liar in the universe, and she’s not much better at acting.
I shake my head and focus on Riven. “She gave you a chance, and you blew it? Explain.”
Riven snarls. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
Celine pulls her hand free from mine. “This isn’t your business, Malach.”
I turn to Ciprian for answers.
He grins at me, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “They’re in a fight, but they’re definitely together,” he says. “You didn’t read that wrong.”
Riven hisses. “Past tense, demon. We were together, but it changed nothing; therefore, there’s nothing to discuss. Our relationship, or lack thereof, no longer exists.”
Celine winces, and her wings droop, the tips grazing the plush carpet.
I grab her hand and squeeze it gently until she focuses on me. “Talk to him, my truth.” I glance at my feet. “Before you both find pride to be a poor companion.”
Someone knocks.
I give Celine’s hand one last squeeze and answer the door. Lyklan looks me over and nods once, satisfied to find I’m not bleeding out on the floor. “I’d like to talk to you,” he says. “If you’re willing.”
I nod and follow him out the door. This conversation is overdue. If I follow my own advice and stop letting pride get in the way, maybe it will even go well.