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I feel a little thrill at every wild step into the unknown I’m taking. Continuing to hold onto the walls, because obviously, a modern convenience like railings don’t exist in a place like this, I head up the stairs.
Now, despite what my mom thinks, I do actually try to go for a walk most days. I handle the steps, and I’m only breathing slightly heavier by the last set of steep stairs. There’s a misconception that big girls are always out of shape, which pisses me off. It’s just one of the things people get wrong about folks like me.
Remus comes up behind me and smoothly dips a hand to my back for a moment. “This way.”
I suck in a breath at the touch, but he’s pulled his hand away and is walking ahead of me. I stare, trying to muffle my gasp as his folded wings bob and his tail continues to flip back and forth, occasionally brushing the walls. He still has on the hood covering his hair, and my eyes drop without meaning to his tight backside.
His pants have a buttoned opening for his tail to emerge, right where his spine and tailbone meet, but they’re quite form-fitting everywhere else. Ahem. I jerk my eyes away as soon as I realize I’m staring.
I look around. Unlike the floor we came from, the top of the stairs leads to a single, huge, round room, and I can only guess that it’s the top of a castle turret. Sunlight spills in through the countless windows that line the walls, the tint of the glass panes making the light change colors as it passes into the room.
“The story of where I come from.”
The room is empty but for an extravagantly intricate mosaic in the center of the floor. The picture and design of the mosaic are unclear at first, but as I step back and move to angle myself correctly, it becomes clear.
My breath catches.
Flaming angelic beings of white and gold, all with wings like Remus, except pure white in color, not black. The beings are gathered in a huge rectangular hall, flanking each side. At the front is some sort of fire or power source that’s so bright it’s a burst of white.
“What is this?” I breathe out.
Remus just says, “Watch.”
I frown, confused, but before my very eyes, the mosaic begins to move. The little tiles shift and change colors. I yelp and step back against the wall, right into Remus’s chest. He chuckles and slips an arm around my waist to steady me but doesn’t remove it even once it’s clear I’ve got my balance.
And there’s something comforting about his touch as I watch in wonder at the tiles shifting. The great hall remains, but all the angelic beings change, filtering out of the hall like a ceremony has finished.
Then, another figure enters, slightly different from the angels. A little less bright. A little more human-looking, but still with white wings. Like something in between a human and an angel.
Unlike the angels standing tall, wings flared, this figure lurks. He sticks to the shadows. Head swinging this way and that, tiles shift and ripple so that it feels like I’m watching a pixelated movie. He steals up toward the bright fire at the altar, dipping his hand in and pulling some fire out. Then he flees back down the aisle.
Once he gets to the end of the aisle, the tiles ripple, and the scene changes to follow the figure down a slightly darker hallway and into a room that has a rippling blue mirror in its center. He looks behind him once. And then jumps through the mirror.
Again, the entire mosaic ripples, tiles exploding in a mesmerizing rainbow of colors, as the man-angel in the center clutches the bright white burst of fire to his chest.
And then the entire picture goes white, so white I briefly close my eyes, and when I open them again, the man has landed in a crouch. He still holds the white fire against his chest, but he’s landed on verdant green grass. He stands up triumphantly, lifting the white fire above his head, and his wings flare outwards.
The picture freezes there, and I breathe out. “What did I just see?” I blink, only now realizing Remus’s hand is still around my waist.
I spin and, not wanting to step on the magic mosaic, hurry back around the perimeter of the room to the door.
Remus follows, and once we’re at the small foyer at the top of the stairs, he tilts his head back toward the room. “That was my father’s monument to his proudest moment when he stole the spark of life from the gods so he could become a god himself. When he came here to Earth, he forged his children with the stolen fire, implanting the godspark in each of us.”
He bangs his fist against his chest.
My eyes widen. Well, that answers that. If I believe in a magic floor, anyway. “Oh,” I manage. And then, “Wow.”
“Yes,” he nods down at me and stands a little taller as I look at him. “Wow.”
I shake my head and smack his chest lightly. His, um, bare chest, I remember as my fingertips graze against his skin. “You’re too full of yourself.” I try to turn away from him, but he snatches my hand and holds it there against his chest.
“I feel very full when you are here at my side, Lo-Ren consort.”
Swoon.
Wait, what the hell am I thinking? Not swoon. I’ve made this mistake before, falling for a guy who seems too good to be true. The thing about guys like this is that there’s always a catch. Usually some gigantic red flag that’s been waving in my face the whole time.
Just then, I realize that Remus’s hood has come a little askew. On impulse, I reach up and snatch it off the back of his head.
