Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Yuri had never been one to dwell on death, yet he often found himself contemplating his own—usually in the quiet of the night, or in the moments before a mission, when the weight of duty pressed against his ribs like an iron hand.
Death came for everyone in the end, and while he’d have preferred to avoid it forever, dying over a bond he’d never wanted seemed a fool’s fate.
Something was wrong with Aurelie. The bond pulsed with a darkness that pressed against his mind like a splinter beneath skin.
It ached in a way he’d never known, slowing his limbs and making each breath heavy.
He’d never seen miasma quite so thick as the one that had surrounded the demon who’d carried her off, or that made him weak enough to where it felt as though he were wading through a bog as he followed its trail.
He’d been so consumed with Azriel and the chaos unfolding that he’d failed in his duties before the bond had even settled. Now it wasn’t just Rhovar that was at risk—it was his own life.
Despite Yuri’s best efforts, the demons had vanished into the forest, moving with an ease he couldn’t match. He followed them anyway, relying on instinct. He could feel Aurelie somewhere ahead, her presence distant and fading.
You’re an angel, a voice inside him taunted. Find her. Do not let these demons best you.
The forest pressed close. Every rustle of leaves felt like a whisper, every shadow a lurking threat.
The trees loomed overhead, their twisted limbs clawing at the sky, letting only slivers of light through.
Yuri flexed his wings, unfolding them just enough to reveal the two eyes embedded within the feathers. They blinked, scanning the darkness.
If the demons had killed Aurelie, it would have been as good as declaring victory on Rhovar. If she was alive, then there had to be something more that they wanted. Some piece he was missing.
But what was it?
Yuri waded through the mess of his emotions, struggling to make out which belonged to his bonded. Every now and then he’d catch a spike of fear or a curious flutter in his stomach, but everything was more scrambled now than ever, the distance between them making it more difficult to parse through.
Bonded pairs were not meant to be apart. Not like this.
The forest had grown too dense to fly, leaving Yuri to scour the land on foot, dried leaves crunching beneath his boots. Aurelie’s soul called to him, but he couldn’t sense where, exactly, he was meant to go. At least until he came upon a bare tree smeared with her blood.
Yuri touched the bark as though it were a fragile thing, skimming his finger over the mark.
Clever girl. She was leaving him signs, but who knew how long it would take to find her. The forest was vast and riddled with places to hide. He pressed his fist to the soil, trying to quiet his mind. Trying to feel her.
But the forest gave him nothing. All he could hear was a distant hum, soft at first, then growing louder.
The vespers.
The creatures may have spoken the common tongue, yet their whispers layered atop one another, forming a chaotic language all their own. Every now and then, Yuri recognized a single word, though it was impossible to string together a sentence unless the vesper wanted you to hear it.
Yuri took a seat beneath the base of the bloodied tree and spread his wings wide, trying to tune out the pesky tricksters that whizzed around him, their deep red skin glowing like embers. He tried to focus, though they were making it impossible.
Quietly, Yuri cursed.
“Oh my. I’ve never heard an angel speak like that.”
He whipped his head up, catching only a glimpse of soft white light that disappeared a second later.
“Over here,” the voice called from behind him, giggling. Yuri’s hand went instinctively to the hilt at his waist, but the creature that hovered behind him was no demon.
“Looks like someone lost their human. I have to admit, I thought you’d be better than that.
” The vesper floated on her back in midair, arms behind her head as her tiny legs kicked lazily at the air.
Her wings were a blur—silvered like frost, and pulsing quick as a hummingbird’s.
Hair the bluish white of a flame spilled around her, and she gave the angel a sly, upside-down smile.
Yuri drew a sharp breath.
She was a Luminel.
White vespers—Luminels—were a rare sort.
They were ostracized by their red peers, the Nyxaris, and tormented relentlessly.
Yuri had seen many things throughout his life, but few as cruel as watching a Luminel have its wings torn from its body by a swarm of Nyxaris.
Once, there had been balance. The luminous and the wicked, the guiding lights and the tricksters.
Now the Nyxaris vastly outnumbered their kin.
With every year that passed, the Luminels grew fewer, their willingness to help dwindling alongside their numbers.
It was rare for them to aid a human these days. But an angel? It seemed there was still hope.
“You know of the girl,” Yuri said. “Does that mean you’ve seen her?”
The vesper twirled upright and hovered closer. “White hair? Carried off by a demon? About yea high?” She motioned dramatically with her hand.
Yuri stepped forward, heart stuttering. “Where did she go?”
“Why?” The vesper walked a slow circle in the air. “So you can lose her again?”
“I didn’t lose her—”
“You did.” She shrugged her tiny shoulders, swatting back her hair. “But I can help you find her. Most of my kind would rather eat ash than help an angel, but I like that girl. Always have.”
So the vesper knew Aurelie, then.
Light, what luck.
“I am Vexara,” said the small creature, her voice like the chime of distant bells. “The angel may call me Vex.”
“Your timing couldn’t be better, Vex.” Yuri dipped his chin. “I’m grateful for your help.”
“I’m sure you will be,” she said cheerfully. “But gratitude is not payment.”
Payment? No Luminel had ever asked him for such a thing. Even the mere thought of offering them payment would have been a great offense. But times, it seemed, were changing.
A strange hum stirred around them. Yuri stiffened, his gaze darting toward the trees. Glowing eyes peered down at him as the Nyxaris hissed, their voices sharp and discordant.
“The others say not to help the angel,” Vex told him, tipping her head. “They do not wish to see the demon harmed.”
Yuri’s expression soured. His glare swept around the forest, daring the unseen vespers to challenge him. Their hissing rose in defiance, a chorus of unseen voices weaving together into a warning.
Yuri let his Glory flare bright, illuminating hundreds of hidden faces. Their hissing turned to squeals, and soon the Nyxaris were retreating. Even Vex was covering her eyes as Yuri stepped closer to her.
“Tell me what you want and be done with it,” he warned. “I have no time for games.”
Even as she shielded herself, the vesper was grinning. “I want a feather.”
Yuri bristled. Feathers were tools for the angels, and yet the vesper was staring at his wings as though they were a shiny new toy.
Still, he sighed, having no choice but to pluck out a single feather and hand it to her. Removed from his wings, the tip shimmered with a faint golden tinge.
Vex darted forward and snatched it with both hands, holding the feather to her chest like a prize. “Oh yes. This will do nicely.”
To his surprise, the feather disappeared not a second later, and the vesper spun to him fully.
“Very well,” she said. “Let’s go and be heroic, yes?” She flitted into the trees without waiting, vanishing between the branches like mist on wind.
Yuri hurried after her, jaw tight. It was ridiculous to place his hope on a Luminel, especially one as peculiar as Vex. But nothing knew a forest better than a vesper.
The light was waning, shadows growing long beneath the trees, but Yuri would not rest until he tracked Aurelie down.
I’m coming, he thought, hoping she could hear his promise despite the distance between them.
Hold on just a little longer, Aurelie. I’ll be there soon.