Chapter 42 #2
“Who cares?” I allow a hint of the vitriol I’ve carried since being dragged into S’lach’s dungeon to escape through my voice.
Celine’s eyes widen. She looks at the wall, and then back at me, as if she can’t decide which she finds more out of place. “Come on, Celine. This is your estate. Do you want to keep that wall?”
“I fucking hate it,” she snaps.
I grab her hand and squeeze. “Then it’s gone.
” I tug her over to the wall, trace the subtle off-white pattern to the edge, and poke around the seam.
Celine watches me examine the wall for a full minute in silence before something in her snaps.
She drives her elbow into the plaster, and it goes right through, sending up a small plume of white dust.
“It’s thin,” she says, wiggling her elbow around until her eyes light up. “I feel the glass, though. It’s still there.”
I release her free hand, and we go to work, punching small holes in the fake wall and yanking the chalky covering away from the window in large chunks. White dust fills the air, coating Celine’s hair and eyelashes.
“I’ll start at the top,” I say. “You do the bottom, and we’ll meet in the middle.”
Celine grunts and tears at the lower sections of the wall like she’s possessed.
I match her enthusiasm, imagining the room as it should be and ignoring the sting in my knuckles, fingernails, and palms as I tear through the wall. We could get tools and work more efficiently, but this is better. Truthfully, I’m not sure I can stop.
Because this isn’t about the wall.
It’s about everything we’ve tried and failed to control over the years. The cruelty, the separations—they’re part of a reality we hated but were powerless to change. Maybe if we tear it all down, something new can rise up in its place.
“Almost there,” Celine says. I glance down at her, and my heart flips at the naked hope on her face. Her eyes, painfully dry while facing her abuser, are brimming with tears. They coat her lower lashes, and as I watch, one breaks free and carves a path through the white dust coating her cheeks.
She yanks the final piece of wall away, her chest rising and falling as she pants.
It’s not a neat job. The edges are jagged, and there are clumps of heavy-duty adhesive stuck to the panes. The colors are back, though, shining through the dirty, forgotten window and bathing Celine’s face in lavender light.
She stares out the window at the courtyard below, tears rolling down her cheeks.
The knot in my throat is huge. It bobs up and down with every inhale. When she abandons the view to stare at me, I choke on it.
I’m not sure who moves first.
We crash into each other, lips connecting with the frenzy of two magnets forced apart and released to find each other again. It’s perfect.
I groan her name, my heart pounding against my ribs. Swelling to get closer to her, it feels too big for my chest. It’s a foolish thought. My heart is an organ. It’s doing its job and nothing more. I’m the one allowing whimsy to override logic.
Except logic tells me this moment is the opposite of perfect.
Traumatizing memories haunt the halls. S’lach lurks behind the gates.
And we’re covered in dust from tearing a wall down with our bare hands.
Then Celine nibbles on my bottom lip, and logic loses all appeal.
Her soft curves and lean muscles press against me, and desire burns low in my belly.
I want to get lost in her and never find my way out.
“Do you remember, Malach?” Celine gasps against my mouth. “The last time we were here together?”
I groan. “Of course, my truth. Your mother prepared the room for us, so we could say our vows while the light shone on our faces.”
“I meant every word, you know.” She kisses me again. “I didn’t think of his cruelty while we made those promises. All I could think about was being with you forever. I’d never wanted anything more.”
I curl my arms around the backs of her thighs and hoist her off the ground.
She’s pressed tight against me, but it isn’t close enough.
“Are you still mine?” she asks. “After everything that’s happened?” There’s vulnerability in her voice that I’ve rarely heard from her. Even when we were young, she was confident in herself. Assured, if not in her circumstances, then with her own mind.
There’s something about her insecurity that thrills and infuriates me. I matter enough to unnerve her, but if she’s still questioning where we stand, I haven’t been clear enough.
“I am yours,” I say firmly. “Khirel nai di-snai. Telom var.”
My love belongs to you. Always. Forever. I translate the phrase into English in my mind, an exercise I started doing to make the language stick. The sentiment is perfect in both languages.
“I love you, too.” Celine’s slender fingers clench around my shoulders.
She’s being careful not to touch the area where my wings used to be.
I want to tell her I’m fine. That the reminder won’t cause me pain, but I’m not sure it’s true yet.
I bask in the way she makes me feel instead, repeating her words to myself as my tongue tangles with hers.
“I need you, Malach.” Celine weaves the fingers of her right hand into my disheveled curls. “Here. Now. Let’s seal our vows in the room where we made them.”
I swallow and nod, excitement and nerves colliding in my belly.
Celine has experience; I’ve seen that firsthand. What if I disappoint her?
“Malach, please.” Her fingers tug my hair, her impatience easing my worry.
I surge into the wall, pinning her next to the hole we carved.
She arches her spine, grinding her lower body against mine and creating a firestorm of need in my blood. “You feel so good,” Celine whispers. “Do whatever seems right. Don’t worry about anything else.”
I plant one hand beside her head and graze the shell of her ear with the pad of my thumb.
“I won’t disappoint you,” I promise, dragging my other hand down, unbuttoning her pants, and sliding my fingers against the smooth skin of her stomach.
She’s so soft. I take my time, stroking her until her eyes glaze.
When my fingers slide against her warm, wet heat, her breath catches, and her teeth dig into her plump bottom lip.
I think I’ll die if we’re interrupted.
Sinking two fingers inside her, I gently experiment with the angle and pressure until her head smacks against the wall. “There, Celine? Do you like that?”
“Yeah. It’s good, give me more.” She stares down at where my hand is buried in her open pants. There isn’t much room for me to work, but I’m enjoying the challenge.
I thrust harder.
“Rub my clit, too,” Celine begs. “Please, Malach, I’m close.”
Gods, this is everything. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
“Will you come around my fingers?” I ask. “Right here, where I promised to always be yours?”
“Fuck, yes,” she moans, canting her hips toward my hand. Our position should be precarious, but I’d rather die than budge. My feet are planted wide, and with the wall at Celine’s back, there’s no way I’ll let a little rocking disrupt us.
I keep my eyes locked on hers as my fingers move. “Khirel nai di-snai,” I say. “Take it for me. Take it all.”
Her chests heaves, then she stiffens, squeezing my fingers and panting as she rides a wave of pleasure. “Yes,” she gasps. “I’ll take it. It’s mine. You’re mine. I’m yours.”
Unlocking her ankles from my lower back, Celine drops her feet to the floor and reaches for the clasp of my pants in one graceful move. We’re covered in dust, but it’s better than any of the times I imagined it over the years.
Celine tugs my pants past my hips, and her fierce expression softens as she looks into my eyes. “I love you, Malach. Always and forever.”