Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
The hope
nik
I leaned back against the edge of the counter top, wings pressed between my body and the wood while I waited for the eggs to finish boiling.
In all the chaos over the last few days, I really had abandoned my appetite.
Adalia had known I needed the nourishment and filled my cupboards with homemade food, but I’d eaten most of it already.
Yesterday was the ranking ceremony. And right now I should have been thinking about patrols, reports, and the extra responsibility that now rested on my shoulders, but all I could think about was Sapphire.
The kitchen was quiet besides the sound of water bubbling in the pot.
My gaze drifted to Lucius beyond the glass doors that led to the balcony.
Golden sunlight spilled across the landscape with the setting sun.
In the distance, soft splashes of white and pink clung to the hills amongst the homes.
Blossom trees were coming into season, and soon the streets would lie beneath a drifting carpet of petals.
Four days and still no word from Abby. I wouldn’t give up on Sapphire, but with every passing hour, it became harder to hold onto the hope that she might choose a different life.
I pushed off the counter, hands laced together on my head when the atmosphere around me shifted. The air became tighter, pulling at all the sides. Then before I could blink, Matthias materialized in my lounge room with a whoosh.
His eyes were wide. Mouth pressed into a thin line. “It’s Sapphire.”
My stomach fell to the floor, heat rushed over my body and my heart began to pound. “What happened? . . . Please don’t say—”
Matthias gave a slight shake of his head. “I don’t know, Nik. Abby just said she’s asking for you, and she’s not in a good way. That’s all.”
I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat. She was asking for me? I’d been waiting for this moment for days, and now I didn’t know what to do first.
“We have to go,” I managed to splutter out.
He nodded. “You might want to turn the heat off first,” he said, flicking his chin towards the stove.
“By the light,” I muttered under my breath, rushing across the kitchen to take the eggs off the heat. My pulse hammered in my throat, breath coming too fast. She was asking for me. After all the silence, all the waiting—she finally wanted me there, and I suddenly couldn’t breathe.
The room tilted for a moment. Every part of me screamed to move, but my body lagged behind, caught between panic and disbelief. I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair, missed the sleeve once, cursed, then yanked it on. I wouldn’t have time to charcoal my wings, but it didn’t matter now.
Matthias’s voice came low, calm. “Breathe, brother. We’ll get there.”
He reached out, hand clamping onto my arm. The air around us tightened, the edges of the room warping. My heart thrashed once, twice—then the world tore sideways, and Lucius vanished.
I'd winnowed a few times, and each time it got a little bit easier, yet my stomach always took a few extra seconds to settle. With a jolt, the front room in Abby’s shop came into focus.
Matthias was already moving by the time I found my legs, his electric blue wings tight, and shoulders squared. The faint hum of energy still vibrated under my skin, and the air struck thick with the smell of whiskey and smoke as I followed him.
I ducked under the doorway and into the room with the black leather chair. I spotted Abby on the other side, crouching low. Something crunched underfoot and I glanced down to see shattered glass scattered across the floorboards.
“Abby,” Matthias said, his voice low.
She stood, turning to face us. Her gaze caught on his wings—blue, not black—and her brows lifted. “Your wings . . .?”
“I’ll explain later,” he said quietly.
She nodded, and then glanced towards me. “Thank the skies you came.” Her voice wavered, but she offered us a small smile all the same. Then she stepped aside with Matthias, clearing a path for me to move deeper into the room.
My breath faltered, turning useless in my chest when I saw Sapphire on the floor.
She’d folded into a small, hurting shape—knees pulled tight to her chest, arms cinched around them as though she could keep herself from shattering if she just held on hard enough.
She rocked in a slow, broken rhythm, her forehead buried in her arms, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Slowly I crouched down to her level. I gritted my teeth at the crusted blood running down one of her legs. My fists curled tightly with the desire to punch holes into the faces of whoever had caused it.
“Sapphire?” I murmured.
“There was a girl with hair like the tide, blue as the brightest of stones. Her skin was soft porcelain, kissed by the wind, her eyes were the sky when alone,” she hummed the words over and over, never lifting her head.
I glanced up at Abby, whose brow knitted in concern. “What happened?” I asked.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment as a sigh escaped her lips. “I left the shop and while I was gone, a regular came in. He’s harmless but a drunkard. Scared her half to death with his brutishness. Broke a glass too.”
I flicked my gaze back to Sapphire. That explained the blood. She rocked back and forth, humming the soft tune. I reached for her again, gently squeezing her arm. “Sapphire . . .”
Blue eyes found me then. Empty and lost. “Nik?” she whispered.
I rubbed a thumb across her skin, letting her know it was safe to come out of wherever she’d hidden herself. “I’m here.”
“You came,” her voice trembled, eyes brimming with tears.
I wanted to reach out and brush them away, but I kept my hands at bay. “Always.”
She glanced up to Matthias, then Abby, and back to me. “Take me away.”
Something inside me unclenched at her words, a knot I’d carried far too long easing all at once. She wanted to leave—wanted me to be the one to take her from this place—and the relief nearly broke me. “Is it alright if I pick you up?”
She nodded, the blue waves of her hair shimmering under the low, lamp light.
I leaned forward and gathered her in my arms, my wings brushing the floor, whispering to the room.
She climbed into my embrace—weightless, like a feather caught in a soft breeze.
Her head settled against my chest over the pounding thrum of my heart.
Abby scurried out the back. “Let me get her things,” she threw over her shoulder, returning a short while later with the gold coin I’d given Sapphire in her palm, alongside a black ribbon.
“She’s always holding onto this. I presume it’s special.
” She tucked them into my trouser pocket, and took a step back.
“Thank you, Abby,” I said, offering her a weak smile.
Her pale green eyes lit up. “You take care of her, alright?”
I nodded, dropping my head down to look at Sapphire. She felt so small in my arms, fragile in a way that made my chest ache. Her eyes were closed, and every breath she took trembled against me, as if her body wasn’t convinced it was allowed to keep going.
I tightened my grip, careful not to crush her wings. We needed to get out—away from this place that sucked all light out of the broken. She’d be alright—I’d make sure of it.
Matthias squeezed Abby’s arm. “Thank you, Abby. Reach out if you ever need me.”
She flashed him a grin. “Thanks, Prince.”
A heavy thud sounded from the front of the shop—something knocked over, followed by uneven footsteps dragging across the floor.
Matthias stilled, reaching for the blade at his hip.
Abby stepped forwards and grabbed his arm. “Just go, I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?” he said through gritted teeth.
She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Abby?” a slurred voice called out, thick with drink. “You back there, girl?”
The footsteps grew louder, clumsy and unsteady, before the back door was shoved open with far more force than precision. It slammed against the wall as a Thorn staggered into the room, his balance off, his gaze slow to focus.
I glanced over my shoulder at the sound, my eyes catching his just as recognition began to sharpen through the haze.
We’d be gone before he could comprehend who we were and hopefully the stench of ale that surrounded him was enough to fog his memory.
The world warped, edges bending until nothing felt solid. I gathered Sapphire closer, my arms tightening around her in a way I hoped felt gentle, not grasping. She was trembling. Heartbreak curled against my chest, and I held her as Matthias pulled us through the winnow.
~~~~~
I hated how quiet the room was. It was the kind of quiet that lurked in funeral parlours and graveyards. The kind of silence that accompanied the dead.
Sapphire lay on the lounge, still as stone, the rise of her chest barely visible under the grey blanket. Healers moved around her in soft murmurs, hands glowing faintly as they worked, brushstrokes of pale light painting across her skin.
I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t even stand still. My boots dragged soft patterns into the rug as I paced the length of the lounge room, every turn of my heel tighter than the last.
Adalia sat in a single armchair by Sapphire's head. She’d brought the two healers with her as soon as Matthias sent word. Her eyes flicked between me and the healing light. Matthias leaned against the wall, arms folded, and gaze steady.
“How long does this take?” I whispered, not bothering to stand still.
Adalia shook her head, and shrugged her shoulders lightly. One healer looked up at me, his kind brown eyes tracking my movements. “Her body is . . . shutting down, Nik. It’s what happens when someone’s lived too long in fear. The body forgets it’s safe.”
Safe. The word hit like a boulder to my chest.
“But she is safe,” I muttered, my voice cracking somewhere in the middle. “She’s out of that light-forsaken city. She’s here. She’s—” The words jammed in my throat. I dragged a hand through my hair and exhaled hard. “How do I tell her that she can let go?”
The second healer looked up briefly. “The good news is, besides the minor cuts on her legs, and some bruising, she’s not hurt. It’s just exhaustion. Her body is protecting her. She’ll wake when she’s ready.”
I stopped pacing and looked at her again. Even in sleep she looked like she was bracing for impact—her hands clenched, her jaw tight, her face pale against the brightness of her hair.
How much did you have to endure before you stopped believing you could rest?
Matthias shifted by the wall. “She’s strong, Nik. She made it this far.”
I nodded, but my throat burned. “I know. It’s just—” I swallowed hard. “She shouldn’t have had to.”
Adalia rose then, coming to stand beside me. “She’s in the best place now, Nik. She’ll pull through.”
I nodded again, slower this time, eyes locked on Sapphire. Her breathing stayed shallow but steady. Every small rise of her chest felt like a miracle I was terrified to lose. I just had to trust that the King of Light knew what he was doing when he assigned this mission to me.
Adalia moved into the kitchen. I didn’t pay much attention to her opening and shutting cupboards. Only when she sighed did I throw a glance over my shoulder. “You need more food already, especially if you’re going to feed Sapphire,” she said.
“Yes, Chef,” I murmured.
Matthias grinned from his place at the wall. “Mother hen.”
After a while, the healers filed out, assuring me that Sapphire was alright and only needed time. They promised to return at once if anything changed. I thanked them, and as their footsteps faded into the night, the room quieted again.
“I’ll come by in the morning with some food and clothes for her if you’d like?” Adalia offered.
Clothes. I hadn’t even thought about the things she might need, being a female and all. The black dress she wore was tattered, two sizes too big and had certainly seen better days. I was grateful to have a sister who cared so deeply.
I nodded. “Thank you. Bring whatever you think she might need. I have nothing here,” I said, my voice feeling flat despite the warmth my family offered.
Matthias pushed off the wall, coming to lay a hand on my shoulder. “She’s safe now,” he said quietly. “You can rest too.”
I nodded, though we both knew I wouldn’t.
Adalia touched my shoulder as she passed. “Send an ashink letter if anything changes.” Her voice was gentle, but her eyes lingered on me—full of that mix of worry and trust I didn’t know what to do with.
Then they were both gone.
The silence that followed settled heavy. With the sun well and truly set, the world rested while I paced around the room, too many feelings battering against my aching chest.
You can rest too.
Matthias was right. Sapphire was safe in Lucius now.
I sank into the chair beside the lounge, elbows on my knees.
The moonlight streaming through the window painted her face in silver and shadow, tracing the hollow of her cheekbones, the faint tremor of her breathing.
She looked breakable. Not in the way that meant weakness—in the way that meant she’d been shattered too many times and still somehow held her shape.
With gentle fingers, I brushed a lock of blue hair away from the curve of her cheek. “There’s a light in you the dark cannot touch,” I whispered into the night.
She needed to hear it again. Maybe it would keep her tethered to this world. All I could do was try.
I leaned back, exhaustion creeping in behind the adrenaline, and let the weight of it all settle. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t move. I just stayed there—keeping watch, making sure the dark stayed where it belonged.