34 THEN, NOW, FOREVER #3
“Now tell me why you think Adriel chose that memory and what he said to you before you came to see me.”
Looking back at the ceiling to concentrate, Sunshine recited everything she remembered about their strange meeting, trying to include as many details as she could.
And since she had been reliving it as a dream instead of experiencing it firsthand, she found she could recall more of what Adriel had said than she had in the moment she had lived it.
She found it comical the way Adriel’s “accidental” summons in the memory was so reminiscent of the one that had occurred recently, when she had arrived in time to eavesdrop on his meeting with the Domination.
Was that intentional?
The first time, he’d acted surprised that she’d been there, but he’d later revealed that he wanted her to overhear the conversation. So was this the same situation? She wished he would just tell her things plainly. It would make her life so much simpler.
“He definitely mentioned something about a new age dawning,” she said, drawing her thoughts back to the words spoken during his strange trance.
“And there was a part about two enemies that had to make amends, or else there would be consequences. The next part was confusing, but I’m sure he said something about the fate of the Nine Rings being sealed.
And then there was a line about a sword and a woman with flaming hands. ”
“That sounds weird,” Raum said.
“I know. And I think there was something confusing about a Beckoner and a Destroyer. Or were they the same person? The last sentence I can remember though! It was: ‘Fallen by choice, redemption earned that was never sought, the reluctant deliverance heralds the coming of the red dawn.’” She looked back at Raum. “What do you think it means?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Sounds like a load of angelic gibberish to me.”
“It can’t be!” She rolled over and sat up on an elbow, mirroring Raum’s position.
“Adriel chose to give us back that memory for a reason, and this has to be it. You were right—our time in India was beautiful, and I’m so grateful to remember it now, but it wasn’t important to the future the way he said the memory would be.
This is the only thing that happened that was unusual and potentially relevant. ”
“I dunno,” Raum said, a frown pulling down one corner of his mouth. “I’m still not sure I believe anything he says.”
“I know you don’t, but I do. He’s always looked out for me. He’s always been there for me when I needed him.”
He cocked a brow. “Except for when he stole your memories and lied to you for hundreds of years.”
She huffed out a breath. Raum was right, and she couldn’t deny he had a reason to be distrustful.
Yet despite the feelings of hurt that she knew would take time to heal, she still felt in her heart that Adriel’s intentions were pure.
That he wanted to help her and Raum. Why else would he have gone to such lengths to arrange a way for them to be together?
She remembered that feeling of hopelessness she’d felt in the dream-memory.
Yes, she and Raum had been happy, but they had also accepted that their relationship would be forbidden forever.
They knew there was no way they could be together without lying and secrecy, without long gaps between seeing each other.
But look at them now. They were here. Sunshine had regained her rank. Their relationship was sanctioned by the Dominations themselves.
No matter how much the Tribunal hated that, they could not overrule a decision from so high up the hierarchy. Adriel had done the impossible and given her a future that Shamsiel would never have dared to hope for, and Sunshine could not help but be grateful for that.
And she knew Raum was too, whether or not he was ready to admit it.
He proved it by his next words, though they were spoken after a sigh, as if they pained him to say.
“If you think Adriel’s words were important, then you should listen to your instincts.
Why don’t you write down everything you can remember about the weird shit he said?
If it’s really some kind of … prophecy”—he grimaced like the idea repulsed him—“then maybe we can, I dunno, study it and look for clues.”
“That’s a great idea!” she declared, practically leaping from the bed in her haste to find appropriate writing materials. Before she darted from the room, she quickly leaned over the mattress and planted a grateful kiss on her lover’s lips.
They were staying at the apartment she’d rented for the rest of the month.
Though Bel had overcome his animosity toward her and she had earned his and his brothers’ approval—apparently, chopping up an archangel was a good way to get in a demon’s good books—she and Raum enjoyed the privacy of their own space.
But they wouldn’t be here much longer, and she could hardly wait for what the future held.
After bringing a notebook and pen back to the bedroom, she spent at least half an hour writing down every single detail about the encounter with Adriel.
She recalled even more than she had in her first explanation to Raum, and she decided to study it with fresh eyes in the morning to see if she could decipher anything, as Raum had suggested.
When she finished that, she spent another half hour writing out every detail of her time with Raum in India. If it was to be the only complete memory she would have restored, she wanted to preserve every bit possible.
A part of her heart ached that she would never remember more of Raum as he had been—smiling, mischievous, playful. But she had been different too. They had both been different people in a different life.
This was their life now. And in this life, they were not forbidden. They did not have to hide. And that was something she could never regret, no matter what they had been forced to sacrifice to get here.
When she finally finished writing, Raum had long since fallen back asleep, despite the soft glow of the lamp.
She placed the notebook on her nightstand and slipped into bed beside him.
He stirred and drew her close against him with a strong arm, pressed his warm skin against hers, and nuzzled into her hair. She sighed with deepest contentment.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you too,” she whispered back, her throat tight with emotion.
“My light in the dark. My sun in the sky.”
Whatever they had been through to get here, she decided, was worth it.