Chapter 25
Iwasn’t ready at all. I gawked at the gilded doors, barred shut to all on the outside of it. On either side sat two great sunlions watching us as if we were trespassers.
“Wings high.” I bowed my head and wings to each. When I rose again, their starry eyes were shining.
“Star of the Age,” the largest on the right breathed. “You and the Wings of Namenthys have come to be Purified.”
I blinked, whipping my head towards Quazar.
He was glowering at the sunlion as if the beast had just revealed some deep secret.
Like I understood it. Namenthys was no longer an existing island.
It was now Barrenrock. And for good reason.
And what did Wings of Namenthys even mean?
What did Quazar have to do with the island that was so special?
I watched Quazar with a funny look, staring between him and the sunlion.
They seemed locked in a silent battle. One that the sunlion clearly just won.
Quazar’s cheeks and neck burned hot. The inscription on his neck began to glow and move around.
The same happened with his hands. I raised a brow, curious.
“Move your paws,” Quazar said out loud. “Or you’ll be dealing with Kaelthos breathing fire down your necks.”
The sunlions growled, baring their large teeth. I floated back, instantly clearing their personal space before my face was clawed off.
“That Farasee has no business here,” the other sunlion spat.
“But Quazar is right,” I cut in, floating forward again. “We need to go through…whatever this Purification is. And in time for Titombwe. Please, may we pass?”
The sunlions blinked at me, at Quazar. Without another word, they rose to their great paws, unfurling beautiful ivory wings from their spines.
They tilted their heads back and roared.
Fire shot out of their maws like plumes, burning the shut doors.
Once their flames touched the doors, sigils etched into the gold began coming alive.
When every sigil was glowing with incandescent light, the doors opened on their own.
I remained still, unsure of what to do. Quazar stomped past me and walked through the doors.
“Wait,” I called, rushing after him. Once I was through the doors, they closed shut. When I saw what lay before me, I wanted to scream.
“No burning way.”
Quazar chuckled without mirth.
“Welcome to the Temple of Hèls. Where everything is a test. Should’ve kept your wings intact. You’ll need them.”
I bared my teeth, lifting my wings into position to strike him.
“Safah Anathelle,” a deep voice rang out through the air. “You have participated in enough violence this dawn. You will not strike the Prince. Not in our presence.”
What in the Hèls was going on?
I looked around, unable to see who was speaking. Before us sprawled a long golden staircase that stretched out horizontally into the distance. On either side were endless billows of clouds. There wasn’t another spirit in sight. Yet the reprimand terrified me.
I lowered my wings, keeping them to myself.
Quazar slid his gaze to mine.
“So that’s what it takes to get you to stop being so…wing-stabby? A voice in the clouds?”
“Seriously,” I kissed my teeth. “Piss off.”
I pushed past him and began walking along the long stairs. Quazar followed, chuckling to himself. We walked the length of it in silence, until we walked out into an open courtyard with a large basin at the center full of…
“Am I losing my mind, or is that water iridescent?”
I ogled the pool, shocked.
“That’s weird,” Quazar said from behind me. “Where in all the Elledelle realms did this bleeding temple find iridescent water?”
“They didn’t.”
The female voice spoke out clearly as a figure slipped out. I dropped my eyes instantly. Lights. The angels who handled Purification weren’t the Farasees. They weren’t Seraphim at all. I took a peek, and saw even Quazar had his head lowered. I couldn’t believe we were in the presence of an Iris.
“What are the chances this Iris sings a prophecy of death over us and we both just drop dead like stones right here?” Quazar asked in my mind, slipping past the veil.
I snorted, choking back my laughter too late. How did he get through so easily? Especially when I couldn’t get through it to get to him.
“Why would you think so ill of us, Namenthien?” the Iris female responded.
In our minds.
Great. More voices in my head.
I kept my mouth shut. I really just wanted to get this over with. I needed a Raephim, not an Iris. I didn’t dare speak that out loud, though. Even if it seemed she could read our minds.
Iris were the second ranking angels and higher ranks to Seraphim.
With galactic skin, unseeing eyes that glowed like white lights, and ivory hair tumbling to their feet, they all contained immeasurable ethèr within them.
Their power was endless. Breathtaking. They were Revelators.
If they sang it, said it, or even whispered it, it would come to pass.
And with far more cataclysm then any angel could ever fathom.
Iris were not to be played with. They were so powerful, they didn’t see with their eyes. They saw with their minds.
I felt so exposed, standing here before her. Or them? She had said “us” after all. Stars. I wanted to turn around and fly.
“Raise your heads and look out,” she commanded gently into our minds.
We obeyed her. My nostrils flared at all the ceremonial bowls, baskets, plates, vases, and other items I didn’t recognize.
These had to be for the Purification ritual I assumed.
Or maybe they wouldn’t be used at all. While the waters in the large ivory basin were iridescent, the surrounding trees, rooted in the clouds, were ivory with golden leaves.
On a dais beyond, stood seven Iris. Each had different colored galactic skin, with their unseeing incandescent eyes.
They wore long, lavish robes that fell down their bodies from the neck down in wide silken waterfalls, colored in shades of ivory, sky blue, lavender, and gold.
Each one had strong facial features with thick brows, full lips, winged ears, curvaceous bodies, and bone white hair hanging by their ankles. They were gloriously stunning.
“Mortent Quazar and Seraphim Safah, please remove your clothing, down to your bare coverings. Then enter the purification waters.”
“Remove…what?” I looked between the Iris and Quazar, my face flushing. I had to…strip? Stars no. I was not doing it. I wouldn’t stand here nude with this son of a Fallen King staring at me like the Farasees had earlier in the dawn. Absolutely not.
“Seraphim Safah, you will obey by will or by force. Choose now.”
The female Iris left no room for debate in her statement. Quazar began unbuttoning his waistcoat, dropping it to the floor as if he was removing shackles from off his shoulders. Then he started unbuttoning the pressed shirt beneath.
“Are you nuts?” I asked him, eyes widening. “You can’t just get naked—”
“Listen,” he cut in. “You may be willing to go toe to toe with an Iris.” He removed the shirt, then started for the buttons of his pants. “Me on the other hand? I’ve been blessed with the wonderful gift of self-awareness. I’m not getting my tail rocked by higher ranks over some exposed skin.”
I watched him drop his pants, kick off his boots, then socks. I couldn’t help staring. Stars. Those hypnotizing eyes. Those full, very kissable lips. And lights. Those biceps. Strong, muscular…touchable.
I wanted to reach out and brush my fingers down their length. And that stomach. Covered in abs, with a slight sheen of sweat from the heat. But beyond his ripped muscles, my eyes were glued to the inscriptions.
Line after line after line was meticulously inscribed into his skin. I looked them over, but they were in a language I couldn’t understand. They curled around his neck, and went down his torso, arms, hands, stomach. And lower still.
I took a peek at his feet, and saw they were covered, too.
Every inch of him had these inscriptions.
And between the lettering were different images embedded throughout his body, like linguistic emphasis for the written word beneath it.
I blinked several times, mesmerized. Then I remembered I was staring and wrenched my eyes away. Quazar lowered his eyes to mine.
“Well?” He raised a brow. “Titombwe starts at the end of dawn.” He blinked, looking into the cloudy heavens. “The suns are descending, Starling.”
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
“Then stop stalling.”
I glared at him.
“I am not stalling. This is inappropriate. I am not just going strip myself and—”
“You can’t be this grown and prude. It just isn’t possible,” Quazar rumbled.
“You’re jittery over the body of a male?
I’m in my rot…burning male briefs. Get a grip on yourself.
I’m not cleaning the chambers of the Scourgers because you’re afraid of skin,” he snapped.
“Drop your stupid gown so we can get this over with.”
He was right. If I didn’t listen, we’d be late for Titombwe, or worse, miss it altogether. I wouldn’t give Kaelthos the satisfaction of sentencing us to be handled by the Scourgers.
I turned around, giving my back to Quazar. Stars. I’d never had to expose myself like this to another male, or an audience of higher ranks, before.
Holy. To whatever end.
Our family proverb rang out in my mind, anchoring me. To whatever end.
I reached for the clasp at my neck, trying to unfasten it so I could remove the gown. It was stuck. I fumbled with the clasp finding it enmeshed with my tangled coils and some of my feathers.
“Stupid gown,” I muttered.
I kept messing with the clasp, but I couldn’t undo it. Then large palms covered mine, gently pushing my fingers out of the way. My hearts instantly skipped ten beats, racing wild. My neck grew hot as Quazar gingerly lifted the bottom strands of my hair where it was caught in the clasp.
“Stupid, pretty, curls,” he muttered, so low he probably thought I hadn’t heard him. “And why does it smell so rotting good?”
My stomach twisted in knots. My hands grew clammy.
His fingers brushed my neck as he gently pulled on the strands.
After a few tugs, they slipped out of the clasp where they were stuck.
I shifted on my feet as I felt him trying to pluck out my loose feathers.
Burning wings. They just had to shed. Quazar finally got my clasp free and loose, undoing it in the process.
It fell open, leaving my back exposed. Then he pulled away.
The absence of his body from mine felt like a chasm.
Strangely, I felt cold. As if I wanted him to draw close again.
I shook my head. I was losing it. It had to be the blood loss.
He was the Fallen Prince. The Fallen Prince who got my Manmi killed.
I wouldn’t be so easily moved. I cleared my throat.
“Thank you…for helping me.”
Quazar just grunted.
I frowned. Burning animal. I quickly removed my gown, letting it fall to the floor.
I undid my sandals and removed my slip dress.
I straightened myself, covered only in the sparkling fabric that wrapped and curved around my bust and the matching underskirt that hung just below the curve of my bottom.
Burning stars, I felt as if I was standing there nude. I turned, refusing to look at Quazar, keeping my eyes straight on the seven Iris. They stood on the dais, impeccable in their perfection, and unmovable. There wasn’t a trace of emotion in their expressions.
“You will intertwine your wings, clasp hands, and enter the purification waters. Together.”
“Oh you have got to be kid—”
I choked on my words as Quazar stepped close and took my hand in his. My hearts raced as he laced our fingers together. His palm was warm, and surprisingly gentle. He lifted one of his wings to mine. Still looking away from him, I raised a wing that hadn’t been shredded by the Spirit Harvesters.
Stars. I was hot, dirty from the trial, covered in bruises, dried blood, and with broken wings. I felt utterly inadequate. Unworthy. To be here. To enter the pool. Even standing by the Fallen Prince, he seemed more redeemed than I.
I bit my lip, wrestling with my foolish thoughts. I looked a mess because I had survived Spirit Harvesters.
And you started a full-on brawl that ended the lives of nine angels, I didn’t say to myself.
“Ready?”
Without thinking, I lifted my head, turning to meet Quazar’s gaze. I had to tilt a bit to meet them properly. I thought his gaze would be taunting. Mocking, even. After all, he’d just gotten annoyed at me for being prude.
But his eyes weren’t that at all.
The eyes of the Fallen Prince were dark. Ravenous.
His eyes trailed the ringlets of my hair, coiling even more from the heat at my temples. They traveled leisurely down my face, the planes of my neck, the length of my curves, until they slowly made their way back up to my eyes. I shuddered as a delicious heat crawled through my body.
Quazar looked starved. He looked at me as if I were a meal he’d gladly lay on a platter and devour whole.
Shadows brushed past the veil in my mind, breaking through to my side of our bond, slithering into my thoughts, pressing up against my very will. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
“I…” I stuttered. “Yeah…Yes. Yes, I am.”
I rushed to shut the veil between us, struggling to get his shadows out of my head. It was like trying to push back a mountain with my bare hands. Impossible.
Quazar Valoryen curled his lips into a smirk, his jeweled eyes glittering. Then he pulled me with him as we entered the purification pool.