8. Nahomie
Nahomie
I squinted into the dark. Out of defiance, I stuck out my chin and squared my shoulders.
My knees wobbled, but I’d be accursed before I let a few shadows shake my resolve.
The sunlight from the distant outdoors was muted in this foyer, making it hard to see, even with heightened angelic sight.
An uncanny thing. I’d never been inside a home where it was difficult to see, even in the heart of twinight. What was this mysterious place?
I couldn’t see the full form of the creature who’d spoken, but I had the sound sense he was a Hallowed.
My manor.
Was this giant hidden in the shadows the Everthorn King?
His eyes were intelligent. Sharp. Piercing.
Striking.
Something in my core stirred.
A nervous tremor flitted across my shoulders.
I floated backward, putting space between myself and the growing shadows in the foyer.
It was another moment before I noticed the smallest of souls fidgeting about like fledgling ghosts unable to stand still.
They looked like Saundeiah, but small, baby versions of her.
Admittedly, they were exceptionally cute.
I caught myself bending over to reach out to one. I stopped myself before I went too far.
“You don’t seem like a Madame who was raised without manners.”
I snapped back to attention, nostrils flaring at the unspoken insinuation.
I lifted my chin higher, crossing my arms.
“Thank you.” I cleared my throat. “Whoever you are.” I cast a quick glance at the mosaic-tiled doors. I was so close to getting out of here. Looking back into the shadows, I lifted my chin. “If you’ll excuse me?—”
“I won’t.”
I flinched, jerking back. My jaw grew slack before I found my tongue again.
“I’m... sorry. Pardon?”
The figure in the shadows didn’t move. The scent of cedarwood blended with cinnamon and hints of smoke wafted under my nostrils.
Instinctively, I licked my lips, relishing the delicious aroma.
I leaned forward, wanting to near the source.
I’d taken three steps forward, still floating in the air, before jerking to a stop.
Clearing my head, I regained control of myself.
As my vision cleared, I found the shadows growing sinister, and the number of souls increasing.
“You are a lethally bewitching creature.”
“And you are in my way.” I floated forward, pressing into the shadows, working to get past the obstruction. “Move.”
A flash of amusement in the dark.
“No.”
“Insufferable piece of...”
I snapped my wings open and shot for the doors, my grumbling fading to quiet.
The figure snarled, annoyed at my blatant disobedience.
As if I cared. I was grown. Some unknown tyrant wasn’t about to have more sway in my life than my own Papi.
I lunged for the door handles. Then a large, calloused hand latched onto my ankle and yanked me back.
I slammed into a muscled chest, trapped by an iron grip.
“I didn’t appreciate that little stunt of yours.”
I grit my teeth.
“You won’t appreciate my next one either if you don’t take your paws off me.”
The figure chuckled, amused at my bravado. I summoned ethèr into my blood, heating my body from within to burn through the grip of the figure holding me. He wrapped a set of wings over his arms around my frame. Stars.
Angel.
He was definitely an angel.
And a stupendously strong one at that.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” I snapped.
“I don’t see why you’re so delusional.” His grip tightened. “You’re not leaving.”
I grunted, instantly irritated. I slammed my foot into the male’s knee.
He cracked a laugh so loud my ears rang.
“Spicy.” A low chuckle. “You’re not Vainyen, are you?”
I didn’t answer. I felt trapped, and I hated it. I started wriggling to break free when?—
Did he just sniff me?
I froze.
The tip of his nose brushed the nape of my neck. A sliver of heat down my spine aroused my senses. My skin flushed. Shocks of flame burned up my arms and coiled around my neck. My stomach clenched at his hypnotizing fragrance as he breathed me in.
Burning stars.
He smelled good.
His grip lowered from my waist to my hips.
“You’re definitely not Vainyen.”
Another sniff at my neck. My braids.
“Mortevainyen females never smell so... intoxicating.”
I sucked in a breath.
Waited for his grip to slacken.
It didn’t.
“So my Gargorètti spoke true. You carry the flame that drew the greed of the Empyrean to Edenael’s shores. All of those Farasees, the might of the Ivory Rain, even the Dyabèssa herself. All unleashed to find you.”
I took advantage of this stranger’s musings to escape his clutches.
I threw my head back, smashing it into the male’s forehead.
He released me instantly, grunting in surprise.
I whisked around, turning to look at him in the darkness.
A trickle of sunlight seeped into the foyer, highlighting a strong jawline and glittering jewels of steel for eyes.
“This is inappropriate behavior, King Tazzias.” I glowered at the muted darkness. If this were his manor, then he was the king. And I wasn’t about to be treated like some Bloodthorn in a Farasee’s harem. “Release me from your manor at once.”
The male grew disturbingly still. He remained frozen so long that I thought I’d spoken a curse.
Then he threw his head back and roared with laughter.
My cheeks burned.
Around me, the foyer quaked. So did the manor, too. Both had tumbled into an uncontrollable, literal fit of laughter. Shadows danced. Drapes swayed back and forth. Sunlight twinkled in and out. Souls giggled while their ghostly frames twitched from one place to another.
I wrapped my arms around myself, completely frustrated.
The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
“What in the everburning stars is so funny?”
King Everthorn ignored me.
He bent over his knees, laughing hysterically to the point of wheezing. The cackles of the shadows and souls grew louder. I looked away, embarrassed. I pulled the silken gown tighter around my shoulders, unsure of what to do.
It was then that a thought occurred to me.
The shadows. The darkness. These souls.
From what Papi and Manmi told me, while King Tazzias Everthorn was a Soul Bender of Mortent rank, he couldn’t manipulate Nanmiess to this degree.
The souls within an angel? Yes.
Disembodied souls?
Only one angel could do that.
Even on Edenael Island, we knew this to be true. Which meant...
I turned from the souls, looking back at the male still shrouded within the shadows. Steel-blue eyes pierced into mine, shining with a knowing that made me tremble with uncertainty. He was no longer laughing. No longer amused.
Which meant I’d run out of time.
Pieces of a broken puzzle re-arranged themselves in my mind as I realized my error.
“You’re not King Tazzias Everthorn,” I whispered. “Are you?”
The souls grew quiet. The shadows plunged us into further darkness.
“No, Phantimèssa,” his deep voice rumbled. “I am not.”