Az had a palm braced on the bed behind him, half sitting up as he watched her with brows drawn low in concern.
"I didn’t mean to make you w-worry," said Luella. She drifted off, staring back outside. "I just feel like I need to be there. And not here." She punctuated her words with the wave of her hand, gesturing wildly out toward the dark sky and night air.
What was it? This feeling. She felt like she might crawl out of her skin if she didn’t go. A million things plagued her. What Emarelia had shared with them, Tharen’s leaving, Graves’s secrets, the watchful eyes of the Fallen, and at the very heart of it, her magic.
It was all too much.
"Can I go?" she asked suddenly.
Az stood, the golden firelight making his tanned chest even deeper. "Go where?"
She tipped her head back to meet his amber eyes. "Out there. Can I?Please?"
The demon’s soft, plush lips tipped in a gentle smile. "You never have to plead with me, my angel." He tucked a curl behind her ear, fingers lingering. She sighed. "I can’t let you go alone. We’ve already agreed upon it. Someone is to be with you at all times."
"I understand. I won’t leave your sight, then. Just right outside. You can watch me." She took small steps closer outside as she spoke.
The demon relented with soft words of acquiescence and made her promise not to go where he couldn’t see her.
With that promise in mind, she stepped outside. Her bare feet tripped over the rocks as she walked to the cliff. This was different than the one she had faced Graves on. No trees. Just a rocky cliffside, then a swift fall down into the sea. In the distance, islands dotted the expanse. Dark with night as the Fallen slumbered.
She breathed in, feeling the air settle inside her lungs. She knew Az was at her back, but she tried to keep this moment just for herself, even feeling slightly guilty for making him stand watch and not sleep.
When her teeth started to chatter and her flesh was so cold that she no longer felt the infinitesimal twitch of her feathers at her back, she turned to go inside.
Only, as her body twisted and her eyes shifted to the far side of the cliff, where the circular-like palace rounded the edge, she saw another being standing there, watching her.
A flash of white hair, whipping around a face she knew well.
Tharen stood at the small outlook jutting out from his room. A tiny stone lip surrounded it, short enough that it didn’t seem to be there—as if no barrier were between them. The curtains were pulled to the side, fastened to hooks, to reveal the bedroom behind him. His arms were crossed, icy eyes like shards of winter as they devoured her in the dark.
The wind increased.
"How long have you been there?" she called to him. As her focus settled on the Prima, she realized what she had been feeling this whole time may not have been within her—butTharen’semotions. Staring at him, she saw the tension in his body, the tick of his jaw, and the whitening of his knuckles.
"Long enough, lamb," Tharen called back to her, voice wavering in the wind.
She turned back to stare at Az and mouthed,Tharen, hoping he would understand.
Luella needed to speak with the mage. Alone.
Az nodded, just once, and she walked carefully over the rocks, leaving Az’s line of sight as she stopped right at the edge of the outlook.
"What do you want?" the Prima asked curtly. Behind him, the curtains billowed, warm, inviting candlelight dancing in the room. His three wolves were curled on the foot of his bed, and Luella spied a flash of black among them—Ven.
The traitor.
When she didn’t reply, he spoke again:
"You should’ve stayed with your demon."
"I couldn’t," Luella pressed, conflicted. Emarelia’s words hung over them, poised to drop like the deadly tip of a blade. It made it hard to look him in the eye. "Do y-you want me to go?"
He laughed darkly. "Like you’ll listen to me either way, little lamb. You have a penchant for doing what you want."
His words were biting and sharp. She knew it was a mask, for she felt his true feelings, beating against her from the thread that connected them.
"Why did you come here? To tempt me more? To dangle yourself before me like a prize I’ll never win?" He ran a hand through his hair. "What Emarelia said was wrong, you know. Twisted. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about."
