Chapter 46 #2
She turned sharply at his voice, moonlight catching in her eyes—two amber coins in the darkness.
By the time he reached her side, her wings had melted away.
Now she stood shivering in human form, arms wrapped around her bare shoulders as the night air raised bumps across her skin, her hair dancing wildly around her face.
His arms ached to close around her, to protect her from the biting wind, but he held himself rigid. His knuckles tightened into fists at his sides, but he kept them there. He’d guard her with his life if she asked—but she hadn’t.
“What are you doing up here?” he asked.
Maybe she just needed some air, he thought desperately. A quick flight to cool her nerves after whatever happened with Florence. Half an hour at most, then she’d return to his room, and curl up on his bed. He’d wake to find her purring softly in her sleep, just like every night.
But Elora’s eyes told a different story. They flickered toward the northwest, beyond The Hive’s walls, beyond the city itself, toward something distant and dangerous.
Her eyes locked with his, golden and unyielding as molten metal. “The Institute. Tonight.” She lifted her chin slightly. “I’m done waiting. Fuck Florence’s plan.”
Rell’s heart hammered against his ribs. Thorn. The Institute. The mere names sent his imagination spiraling into darkness. He’d seen what Thorn was capable of through her nightmares. Seen her thrashing on the forest floor, fighting demons no one else could see.
The wind cut through his clothes, but his skin still felt feverish. He clenched his jaw, struggling to mask the panic rising within him at the thought of her leaving.
“Wait,” he said, trying to sound reasonable rather than desperate. “Let me grab a few things first. My knives, some provisions.” He smiled at her, hoping she couldn’t see the silent plea behind it. “I promised that I would help you, and I mean it.”
She reached out, fingers wrapping around his forearm before he could turn away. Elora broke eye contact, staring at her feet for a long moment. When she looked up again, something had hardened in her expression.
“You can’t come with me, Rell.” Her fingers spasmed against his forearm before loosening. “How would you even get there?”
He laughed, the sound hollow even to his own ears. “I could ride you.” The words came out half-joking, but he meant every syllable. “Like a horse, but with wings. And fangs. And considerably more terrifying.”
A small giggle escaped her lips, and the sound nearly undid him.
“You had no problem carrying Symond down from the tower,” he reminded her, clinging to that fragment of hope. “I can’t be that much heavier.”
Her smile lingered for a moment before fading entirely.
He followed her gaze northwest, toward The Institute, a place he’d never seen but had imagined countless times in his nightmares.
If she said no, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
The urge to grab her, to physically drag her back inside clawed at him—a desperate, terrible impulse he hated himself for even considering.
She wasn’t his to save. She wasn’t his at all.
“Elora—” Rell reached for her hand, but she stepped back, putting distance between them. Rell continued despite the stabbing pain her distance caused. “Thorn isn’t Gerard. You can’t just—tear him apart and fly away. You don’t know what he’s got waiting.”
“Think about what you’re asking.” She moved a half-step closer, her eyes dropping briefly to his hands. “Really think about it.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off.
“You don’t know the layout of that building.
You’ve never set foot inside it. You don’t know which corridors are watched, which doors are locked, which stairwells the guards patrol at night.
” The breeze tossed her hair over her face, but she didn’t brush it away.
“Every step you’d take is one more chance to be heard.
One more chance to trigger an alarm. One more chance to get us both caught. ”
Rell’s throat worked. He wanted to tell her that didn’t matter, that he’d figure it out, that he’d fought in worse conditions, but the words died before they reached his tongue because she was right and they both knew it.
Memories of Josephina flashed through his mind again, of being too late to save someone he loved.
“This is a bad idea, Elora. We can think of a better, smarter way, to take him out.” Rell fought the urge grab her. “‘Impulsive decisions are what get people killed.’ Vye’s told me more times than I can count.”
“And yet, you’ve still survived.” Elora pointed out.
There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t push her away. He sighed and nodded, unable to form words around the lump in his throat.
Elora closed the distance between them, her arms finding their way around his waist, head settling against his chest. Every muscle in his body urged him to tighten his grip, to hold her with such fierce possession that departure would become impossible, but he restrained himself.
His embrace remained tentative, his arms forming a loose circle around her shoulders.
His lips brushed her forehead, breath catching as he whispered, “I’m charging the island if you’re not back by noon tomorrow. Don’t do anything I would do, okay, Su—” He cleared his throat. “Elora.”
She frowned.
“Why don’t you call me sunshine anymore?”
“I...” he faltered, gathering his thoughts. “I stopped because you never chose to be called that. It was just something I started saying.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Do you always ask people’s permission before giving them a nickname?”
Rell shook his head, as his lips curved into a rueful smile. “No, I don’t ask permission for most things. But I never want to impose anything on you that you don’t want.” He hesitated, feeling suddenly exposed on this breezy rooftop. “You’ve had enough of that.”
“Oh…” Her eyes softened, and she looked down, fingers fidgeting with a leaf covering her torso. “I actually miss it,” she admitted quietly, her voice nearly lost in the wind. “I know it doesn’t fit me”
“Elora—” he started, but she continued.
“But that’s why I liked it.” Her golden eyes met his again, vulnerable in a way that made his chest ache. “Because, I dunno, sometimes it’s nice to pretend I’m not just this... this mess of teeth and claws and anger all the time.”
His throat tightened with an emotion he couldn’t swallow down—a yearning that hollowed his lungs and left him breathless.
Sunshine wasn’t quite right anymore. She wasn’t just light—not some pleasant afternoon kind of light. The kind that breaks through when you’ve forgotten the sun exists. He hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten until her.
He pulled her back against his chest, arms tightening around her slender frame. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair—herbs and wild nature that belonged only to her.
“Don’t get killed, Sunshine,” he whispered into her hair, then forced himself to release her.
The cold rushed between them as she stepped away. She turned from him, but not before he caught the shy smile that curved her lips, so different from her usual sharp grins or determined frowns.
In one fluid motion, her body shifted.
She stretched her wings, the span blocking out the stars for a moment. With graceful movements, she grabbed a small leather satchel that had been resting near the edge, taking it between powerful teeth.
Then she was gone, launching herself into the night with a powerful thrust of her hind legs. Wind from her wing beats buffeted his face as he watched her dark silhouette grow smaller against the stars.