Chapter 54
Zadriel
Water crashed in the distance, splashing against the shore with the ebb and flow of a hungry tide, but it all felt so far away.
Trees swayed behind Zadriel’s eyes, gold shimmering above, while a melody lured him home.
Each inhale laced with lavender. With her.
Even the scent of embers chasing her aroma became soothing.
Then, cold fingers clutched his face, digging into his jaw with such force he groaned, torn from the siren’s call of his dream.
“I’ve been watching,” a familiar voice rasped, tilting his head upward. There was a tug against the nape of his neck, hemp snapping as Cillian’s pendant was torn away.
Zadriel peeled his eyes open, his vision blurring. Spindly pine trees bending to watch from their shadowy nest atop the sea stack, droplets of water tumbling down to splash on his forehead. He blinked, eyes growing heavy. The beckoning tug of sleep too difficult to ignore.
“You’re pathetic,” that same voice spat, a dark specter looming above, blotting out the moonlight. “Just like your father.”
Azure pierced through the darkness. So bright it stung. So cold it burned.
Zadriel’s head hit the ground, the bite of those frigid fingers disappearing.
His eyes drifting closed while a headache joined the pain thrumming throughout his body.
Sand squished beneath someone’s feet, each step slow.
Purposeful. A quiet, relieved hum under their breath.
Then something rustled, and supple leather bumped into Zadriel’s hands.
“It’s a shame you’re more useful to me alive,” they muttered next to his ear. The cool drag of metal running over his throat, a hand squeezing just enough to staunch his breath. “Enjoy your suffering, mutt. I’ll see you again very soon.”
Then there was nothing. Nothing but Zadriel’s tired mind and pounding head, lulled back into the arms of an enticing dream.
Pine wrapped Zadriel in a soft embrace, delicate hints of florals—of lavender—curling around him. Embers prickling his nose, though he didn’t mind them. Was it odd he’d grown to like the scent? That he craved it?
His eyes fluttered, dark lashes tickling his cheeks, before he peeled them open and was greeted by a world draped in gold, a sheer, gilded aura curling over the meadow. The Mother Tree’s thick boughs reaching for the heavens.
“Is this purgatory?” he muttered, resting his head against the curve of a thick root, a lush cluster of ferns brushing his nape.
The nearest branch creaked as it moved, brushing his shoulder, and Zadriel chuckled.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He ran his fingers over the budding leaves, delighted to see life again in a place he’d ruined, even if it wasn’t real.
“For what it’s worth, not a moment passes where I don’t hate myself for what I’ve done. ”
Mora’s voice cut through the silence. “Fae!”
Zadriel jerked his head toward the sound, his lips parting when he saw her.
Mora’s upper lip curled in a snarl, ire burning in her amber gaze, raw power emanating from its depths.
Arcadia’s magic. Somehow woven into her very soul by Cillian’s hand.
Whatever he’d made her, Mora had access to the entirety of Arcadia’s well, an endless power even the eldest among the Fae wouldn’t understand.
Except for his parents.
If Zadriel fully grasped his own abilities, he’d likely understand her as well.
Light glittered along her dress, gold glinting on its white gossamer fabric with every determined step.
Her thighs peeking through the long slits, radiant skin luminous.
Nearly aglow. Golden undertones shimmering in the meadow’s low light.
Zadriel’s eyes wandered over her curves, following the gilded path along her sheer bodice, before they settled on the long brown ringlets hanging over her shoulders.
How he longed to curl them around his fingers.
Warmth bloomed in his chest, pricks of heat skittering over his cheeks, but they were quickly cooled by a furious wind.
Zadriel cleared his throat. “Yes, Little Witch?” he asked, sitting up.
Her eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. Feet frozen at the edge of the meadow, a cluster of gilded daisies tickling her skin. “You did this to me.”
Zadriel stood, knowing that tone meant trouble. “Did what exactly?”
A growl was her only response before she broke into a run, trees and bramble bending as they reached for her—even the blades of grass leaned in her direction. Fury wafted off her in waves, so potent Zadriel could taste it. Feel it in his chest as if it were his own.
She slammed into him, his back pressing against the Mother Tree, arms instinctively wrapping around her center and pulling her close. Then, Mora’s fists hit his chest, breaths coming out in sharp pants. “This is your fucking fault!”
Zadriel allowed her a few blows, wincing at the small ache blooming beneath her hits. He didn’t mind. In truth, he deserved it. Would endure a few moments of pain if it brought her some inkling of peace.
“Little Witch,” Zadriel breathed, “that’s enough.”
Mora didn’t listen. “It will never be enough,” she snarled, hitting him again and again.
He sighed, releasing her from his hold to grab her wrists.
Mora jerked in his grasp, eager to punch him some more, so he spun them, pressing her against the great Tree’s trunk and raising her arms above her head.
“Use your words, love... What, exactly, is my fault?” he asked, dipping his chin so she had no choice but to meet his stare.
They watched one another, sharing their breaths until those glowing eyes softened, honeyed amber peeking through bright, gilded power. Gods, he could look at her forever.
“Why don’t I hate your touch?” she muttered.
“Why does your scent haunt me every waking minute?” Mora stood on her toes, rising on her feet until their noses nearly touched.
Her voice growing harsh. “You helped destroy me, yet somehow, every night, I dream you put me back together. I can’t stand it. ”
Closing his eyes, Zadriel nuzzled her nose, and took a deep, heavenly breath of her scent. Embers dominated his senses—was her floral aroma fading? “I deserve your ire.”
“I tried fucking someone else,” Mora seethed.
Zadriel went still, eyes snapping open, the golden flecks in his endless black gaze glimmering in a way they rarely did. This dream was torturous. “Was it the blond?”
“No.” Her breath fluttered against his lips, so close he could nearly taste her. “I’m so pathetically enthralled by you I found someone who was close enough.”
“Close enough?” His nostrils flared, heat flooding his veins. Mora tugged against his hold, but Zadriel held firm.
“And you know what?”
“Enlighten me.”
Mora bared her teeth. “It still wasn’t enough.”
The tension rising within him halted, her words soothing the part of his nature that wanted to snarl and flash his canines at the thought of his mate lying with another. She felt it too—no one could replace the bond they shared, even if they’d never have the opportunity to explore it.
“They will never be enough because you... because he...” Mora hesitated, fingers curling into tight fists. “Because I’m ruined.”
Those bright eyes flicked over his shoulder, and Zadriel felt her shudder against him. Ice crawled up his spine—if he turned, would he find Cillian watching?
What were his dreams trying to tell him?
He bit his lip, brows furrowing as he examined her face.
Knowing he dishonored Cillian by dreaming of Mora over and over again and finding he didn’t care.
Nothing could tear him away from her. No bond could usurp the melody of her soul, a siren’s song humming only for him, tethering around his being and beckoning until he was helpless but to follow.
Swiping his thumb back and forth along her wrist, he said, “You, Little Witch, could never be ruined.” His deep voice gentler than he thought possible.
He meant every word—Mora was a force. One that could stare the world down and have it kneeling before her if she liked.
There was a spark within her he’d witnessed the day they’d met and every moment he’d seen her since. One he admired deeply.
Mora pulled back to stare up at him, but Zadriel followed, enjoying the press of her body against his. The way her warmth caressed him, her scent curling in his lungs.
She tilted her head to the side, analyzing his face. “I’m inclined to disagree.”
Adjusting his hold, Zadriel secured both of her wrists in one hand. “Every moment I’ve had the pleasure of laying my eyes on you has taught me one thing, Little Witch,” he said, trailing his finger down her arm. “Anyone who attempts to ruin you will face their own ruination.”
Mora smirked, huffing a laugh through her nose. “Says the male who has me pinned against a tree.”
“I am relatively certain you could escape me if you wanted, which could only mean...” Brushing a dark curl away from her forehead, Zadriel watched her. Waiting.
A flush darkened her cheeks. “Could only mean what?”
“You want this.”
A startled inhale danced between them, Mora’s eyes widening. Boring into his own. Searching for something in those endless pools of starlight.
“Prove me wrong, Little Witch.” Zadriel inched closer, his lips nearly feathering hers, a soft smile gracing his face. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you want me to let go and I will.”
His words changed something between them, her body softening in his hold.
Mora rose to meet him, her lips crashing into his in a desperate, insistent kiss.
A pleased hum rumbled in Zadriel’s chest. He sucked on her bottom lip, releasing her wrists and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
For all he knew, he could be bleeding out on the beach in the waking world, this dream his last; a final, imagined moment with his mate before his spirit fled to the next realm.
It was a figment. His desires, his hopes, his unrequited yearning woven together by his subconscious.
But it felt real, and that was more than enough.