Chapter 43
Sprawled over the cold floor, I looked for Quazar. I found him several wingspans away, laid out on his side, his body contorted at an awkward angle.
“Quazar,” I cried.
I pushed to my feet, grunting through the pain of my fresh wounds.
I rushed to his side and fell beside him, rolling him to his back.
In the light of the wingtower, he looked significantly worse than he did in the glass chambers of the trial.
Dakairi and Ivyana rushed to his other side, bending to be by him.
Dakairi reached forward, ready to scoop up his best friend.
“I’ve got him,” I told Dakairi, already reaching beneath Quazar’s shoulders with my wings to prop him up against me. I brought a hand to his cheek, brushing my thumb over his velvet skin. He groaned, leaning into the touch.
Dakairi and Ivyana watched me in silence. I caressed Quazar’s cheek before leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead.
“Come on,” I breathed into his hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up and to bed. Okay?”
He gingerly opened his eyes. I would always be struck by the beauty of them. Quazar pressed into my bosom, angling his head so I could cling to him better.
“Are you okay if I bring you? Or do you want Dakairi—”
“You,” he breathed heavily. “Always you.”
I kissed his forehead once more, letting my lips linger at his temple. When I pulled back, I brushed the wayward strands of his raven hair back.
“Come on then. Lean on me. I’ve got you.”
I propped him up, bearing the brunt of his weight with my shoulder. Dakairi and Ivyana continued watching, their eyes shining like jade and sapphire gemstones. I met their gazes, offering a brief smile.
“I’ll take care of him. Promise.”
To my surprise, both returned the smile, their eyes shining with a knowing. Especially Ivyana. Her eyes were practically glowing.
I got to work, using my wings to propel me to my feet with Quazar hanging onto me. I swung his arm around my shoulders, wrapped my arm around his waist, and held him up with my wings so he could walk without having to use his own strength. One step at a time, I began walking with him.
“How are you…” Vashari’s voice broke off from somewhere behind me.
“Brothers,” I ground through my teeth. “I…have…brothers.”
It took longer than I thought, but I managed to walk him out of the great room, down the halls, and to the side of the wingtower where the Talons stayed. I looked up and found two doors marked VALORYEN.
“Which one…”
“Right. Ivy wanted the left. Has a pretty view of the clouds.”
“Aww, look at you being a sweet, big brother.”
He snorted. “Sweet my backside. If I didn’t, she would never shut up about it. I value my peace.”
“Yeah, sure you do.” I giggled.
He sounded just like Ezekiel, Hosea, and Uriah. They pretended not to care, but they always gave up their preferences for Jael, Evanae, and I. Gabriel was still learning to do that. He was still too young to care.
I trudged him over to his door. Before I could ask how to open it, the shadow lock pulsed in lavender—sensing my starfire—and immediately opened. I stared wide eyed.
“You…you shadow locked your door with my ethèr infused?”
“Of course I did. Since the dawn we came back from the first trial and you survived the Harvesters, I knew I’d bring you here one dawn for my own selfish reasons. So I made sure you could access my chambers, access me, at any time.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. This whole time he’d expected for us to be more than just enemies? More than just temple-mates?
I didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. I bit my lip, bringing him into his room. The moment we were inside, the door shut on its own and locked.
I looked around, shocked at how much smaller his room was compared to Ellabeth’s and mine. As if the Disciples had been given a small palace to live in and the Legionnaires were given…barracks.
“Not as fancy as yours.” He chuckled. “I know. Now you see why I like staying in yours so much?”
“Oh, so that’s the real reason.”
He snorted. “Make no mistake. You are always the reason I find any excuse to be near you.”
His shadows caressed my hips, groping my sides gingerly. My hearts skipped several beats leaving me speechless. I found an empty couch and brought him to it, gently sitting him down. Quazar laid his head back, groaning.
“Safah,” he whispered.
I bent down to him, eyes wide. He never referred to me by name in front of anyone else. He only did so in private, when we were alone. When he felt safe enough to let his guard down.
“Yes, my Princeling.”
He smirked at that before his face contorted with agony.
“We’re not allowed to use the help of Raephim.”
“What?” My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “But your injuries—”
“I’ll have to heal on my own.”
“No.” I raised my hands to his cheeks. He looked at me beneath those pretty, long lashes, causing my hearts to stutter. “I’ll do what I can. It won’t be the best, but it should be enough.”
“Why’d you bring me to the couch and not the bed?” His eyes danced. “I have so many ideas for what we could do between my sheets, you and I.”
Before I could stop myself, I burst out giggling, feeling my face flush. I covered my mouth as I laughed, not wanting to look like an out-of-control bloodhyena.
Quazar pulled my hand away, his eyes blazing.
“No,” he said, gruffly. “Never hide the most beautiful sound I get to hear. Your laughter is my favorite symphony.”
I blushed.
“In all seriousness, you have too much blood everywhere. I don’t want you getting it on your sheets.”
Quazar looked down, as if he’d forgotten about being bled out before the trial. I lifted his chin so his eyes would meet mine.
“Do I…do I want to know?”
He looked at me from beneath his lashes again. Shook his head. I swallowed the guilt swelling in my throat. Stars. Who had done this to him? He said Granmanmi wasn’t involved. But I had a feeling that wasn’t entirely true. I frowned.
Quazar caught my chin between his fingers.
Tipped my face close to his. I breathed in the scent of him.
Dried blood mixed with sandalwood and that subtle smell of mint.
Even in such a gruesome state, I wanted to straddle him and have him take me to places I’d never cared for a male to bring me before.
“Don’t worry about me,” he whispered.
“It’s a little too late for that.”
“Safah,” he drawled. “I chose this. I’d rather it be me then—”
“I know. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. It’s wrong. The weight of all the Marked on you? That’s insane! One angel bearing the sins of what, hundreds? Thousands? How could you agree to that?”
“Trust me. It was the best deal given. You don’t want to know what your precious Order wanted to do, especially with my female angels, if I’d said no.”
I stilled. I remembered the males who’d leered at me endlessly in my short time as an Ascendant. Remembered the old Farasee from the trial.
“I think I have an idea or two,” I mumbled, lowering my head.
Quazar brushed his fingers over my hair, letting a few get caught in my tangled strands.
“Now amplify it. That would have been the bare minimum. I could never let that happen. And then Ivy…being my little sister…”
“Yeah. Hèls. She’d be living in Hèls.”
Quazar nodded.
I sighed, pushing away.
“Can you sit up?”
He nodded, pushing himself with effort to sit straight.
“Let me take care of you, okay?”
I quickly shoved all my hair up into a messy bun, so I could work on Quazar without my hair spilling into my eyes. I rolled back my sleeves and got to work.
First, I unbuttoned his tunic. To my surprise, and great pleasure, my fingers didn’t fumble over the buttons.
Didn’t fumble when I peeled the tunic away, revealing his chiseled chest entirely covered in blood, sweat, open wounds, and those endless inscriptions.
I fought the temptation to just run my hands all over him.
Quazar didn’t remove his eyes from me once as I started on his boots.
I unlaced them, pulled them off, and walked them over to the side of his armoire.
I let my wings drag with the cape of my gown, as I padded around his room barefoot.
Quazar watched every move, as if memorizing all the little details.
As if they were precious and should never be forgotten.
Back at his side, I moved to stand in front of him and tugged at his trousers.
Without a thought, he lifted his hips and let me pull them off.
Fire sang through my body, from my face down, as he sat in the single couch eyes glued to my moving form, dressed in only his briefs.
I took his sullied clothes and found his launder basket, dropping them in.
We stayed in peaceful quiet, as I thought of what to do next. I could bring him to his washroom to clean him up, but he had so many open wounds. It would be too painful for him, no matter what he said.
As I contemplated what to do, Quazar’s body spasmed. Then he tossed his head back and began choking on a rising scream.