He stepped closer to her, taking the collar from her white-knuckled grip. She gasped when his grip on it forced her closer to him, her chest bumping his stomach. His scent enveloped her.
With deft fingers, he unhooked a small clasp at the back of the collar she had not seen, opening it as he fit it around her neck. His fingers brushed her pulse point, and it jumped under his touch. The collar was loose around her throat, and he swept her hair to the side as he clasped the back.
Bastian stepped away. "There. Beautiful."
She didn’t feel like it. She wriggled her bare toes. "I need slippers. No more heels." Or walking on tiptoe. Her feet ached from doing it so often. She wanted to try with normal shoes.
He made a contemplative sound. "I didn’t see any in the wardrobe. Perhaps shoes are not custom for the Fallen?" He stared out at the dimming light that filtered in through the curtains leading to the forest. "Take my hand."
She did, and he led her into the lounge room.
Luella disentangled her fingers from Bastian’s, immediately walking to Az, who still sat. She rounded the low lounge, standing before him.
A dark bruise was under his eye, blooming to his jaw.
A gasp fell from her lips, and in the same released breath, she fell to her knees before him, hands landing on his thighs, herwings fluttering behind her in indignation. Her back was to them all, and she knew they saw every quiver of her feathers. It felt strangely intimate.
"What happened?" she asked, reaching up to skim her fingertips over Az’s jaw.
The way she knelt before him, and the low set to the lounge, put them nearly at eye level. His amber eyes tracked her every breath, and the heat in them reminded her of how he had stared up at her from between her thighs.
Az took her hand and held it against his face. "Don’t kneel for me, angel."
"You didn’t answer me," she implored. "What happened. Who hurt you?"
His eyes darted to the side, and she followed the direction of his gaze—right to Graves, who stood like a silent sentinel near the arched doorway, staring out at the dark sea and cloud-covered sky.
"Graves," Luella whispered. And he turned to stare at her, face guarded. She hated what she saw in his eyes—self-loathing, a type she recognized. She turned away.
"I deserved it," said Az. "It was my price."
"For what?"
The silence lingered, and her mind worked to fill in the blanks.Oh. It was because of what they had done.
"I would pay it forever, Lu. Always." Az kissed her palm and took her hand, lowering it to his lap.
Footsteps sounded at her back, and she turned her head to stare up at Vale, who stood by her side. Her face was level with his thighs as he loomed over her.
"We should go." Vale held out a hand. "The celebration awaits, Princess Luella."
She inhaled sharply as she took Vale’s hand, allowing him to pull her up. Az stood, as well, warming her exposed back from his proximity.
Luella knew what Bastian had asked of her—trust—but she needed more assurance. "What about my wings?"
Vale played with the charms on her stolen bracelet; though, was it truly stolen if the one she had stolen it from never asked for it back? "It is taken care of, darling."
As if his word were enough.
"The boats are waiting," Graves cut in.
Vale laced his fingers with hers. His hand was so large, it hurt. "Let’s not keep them all."
They all walked to the largest stone arch, entirely open to the outside. The steps led straight down into the water; the two boats anchored there, awaiting them.
The King helped her carefully down the steps, and the bottom few were slippery from the tide, her bare feet damp from puddles left behind. The water lapped against her toes, and she swallowed thickly.
The sea was endless. Even dotted with faraway islands and the mountains that encircled the Isles, it didn’t fail to make her sick. How deep did it go? What was held inside? Salt tinged the air, and the memory made her next breath harder to take.
