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 mixedwith 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 onyou? 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.
