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But the price was heavy. A short time after his visit, the legendary warlock journeyed from Scath to the Evermore. Indigo had felt his passing in her bones. He sacrificed so she could live.
It was a debt she’d happily pay to be with Roark for even a week. She could say a proper goodbye.
****
Ohngel was beyond thought, beyond caring, existing in a mist of nothingness.
Though unable to lift his heavy lids, he was not blind. He saw the vastness of the universe. The great everything. Space was eternal, unending. He was one with it, his limbs extending into infinity.
Dull light bathed his incorporeal body. Yet he sensed no warmth, no cold, no breeze. Air did not reach the void.
Time was without meaning. He was here for moments or forever. Neither was of consequence.
Though aware of fiery wings melding to his spine, he was unable to move them. He found no desire to move them.
He was content with his state of being. If contentment existed.
His mind thought it once dreamed. Then he was unsure of what a dream was. Did he want one? If he could, he would have shrugged. Did he have anything to dream of? Another shrug.
Suddenly, an uncomfortable jolt. Sadness. Loss. A divine face hovered above him. Violet eyes. A wicked grin. A curl twisted around a finger. A female more brilliant than the endless universe. He fought against consciousness. Whatever consciousness was.
No.
He resettled into the mist, the body that was not a body, the bed of wings. All was as it should be. He breathed into the endless void. He inhaled. He exhaled.
Another tug of awareness. Sensation penetrated his flesh which was not flesh.
No.
He fell again. He settled. Though beyond knowing, he was aware of resting. Of the need to rest. Time was not yet his to hold.
Soft tendrils shushed across his thighs that were not thighs.
He drew in the scent of wild roses growing along the banks of a river.
He tasted lips of honeyed clover.
He picked up the hum of a voice. A voice he should recognize.
His shoulder twitched. His torso bowed upward. Pain. Energy arced into him. Something was very wrong.
No.
This should not be. He struggled to return to the void, the silent, black nothingness. While he reached for it, he was pulled away.
His chest was damp. Tears? How would he know of those?
Hair tickled his thighs. The lush scent of the wildflowers grew stronger. Ohngel dragged his unwilling lids up, scraping them against his eyes like razors. A female cradled him close, her head on his pecs.
She was the source of energy pouring into him. He rolled in its warmth. It spread to every organ, nerve, bone, and limb.
It was Indy. In him. Around him. The being who meant everything. He latched onto her upper arms. “What have you done?” His voice was a harsh rasp.
Indigo wriggled out of his grasp, swiping tears from her wide eyes. “It worked. Damn I’m good.”
He shook his head. Cobwebs. Muddled thoughts. He should be asleep. He struggled into a sitting position, his fingers bruising Indy’s skin. “How? My deal was set.”
“Yeah. And stupid. Now show a little appreciation.”
