This is important. Since you will not speak to them, you must listen to me. Stay by our side,his final warning resounded in her mind, and a thick latch was undone on the door, clanging softly as it groaned ajar.
Light filtered inside, whispering over her skin, and she breathed it in.
Black, feathered wings greeted her.
Tanned skin, deep brown eyes, and the familiar, guarded features of the Fallen warrior who had first stopped them at the arch. His spear was held in a slanted line over his chest as the door opened fully, the silver tip glinting in the brief flashes of sunlight.
He stared at her silently for a breath too long, and she resisted the urge to wring her hands before her.
Luella’s chin dipped as she stared at the ground, and the Fallen’s voice made her head raise as he sharply urged, "Do not look away."
He searched her eyes, and whatever he found—or failed to find—made him take a step back, his grip relaxing on the spear. "You may leave now. Your… friends are waiting for you."
The Fallen stepped fully to the side, and Luella saw hints of fog drift through the open expanse of the stone circle. Wispy clouds hung low in the mountains above as warm air drifted through her hair and the hem of her cloak, rustling around her legs.
As she stepped out of the room, she felt strangely exposed after being alone for so long.
Quietly, her eyes darted around the expanse, finding Vale standing close by, green eyes hard and proud, his golden hair in disarray. He was already looking at her.
"Darling," he murmured, holding out a hand, "come here."
She jolted at the endearment, glancing to the Fallen who did not appear fazed by such familiarity, as she stepped toward Vale.She found herself going to him, unbidden, as if desperate to fill a space she had no idea had even been empty—but now that she was not quite near him, she felt how lonesome she was. A part of her yearned for him. For them all. As if she would not quite be settled until she had them all back with her, once more.
She let herself take his hand, let herself be pulled into his side, and let him bring her hand up to his mouth, nose skimming over the inside of her wrist and making the bracelet jingle faintly.
"Where are the others?" she asked him, knowing they were being watched.
The Fallen warrior went to another door, unlocking it. Vale still held her hand as the door opened. Az stepped into the light, his amber eyes immediately falling to her, ignoring the Fallen’s attempts to force the demon’s attention back to him, searching into his eyes for what Luella now assumed was to ensure there were no shadows.
"I was the first to be let out, then you, darling. I trust you will behave?" Vale questioned, keeping her trapped with his hands clasped around hers, so she could not go to Az, even though she tried.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked to the dragon shifter. "If it suits me."
Pride filled her—not her own. The corner of Vale’s lips twitched infinitesimally. "Solitude becomes you."
She… didn’t know what to say to that.
Az stepped into her other side, a large hand falling onto her shoulder, careful of her hidden wings. "Lu, love," he sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek, but his lips moved, whispering words just for the two of them, the shape of his mouth hidden by her hair. "A week without you is torture." As he pulled away, he tucked her hair behind her ear, finger brushingthe pointed tip, and she shuddered. She wanted to say so much, but the watchful eyes made her pause—and Vale’s order.
For some reason, she wanted to obey him. Maybe more so, knowing he had not forced her will to bend to his.
"Always," she murmured to her demon, feeling Vale’s fingers tighten around hers as Az smiled.
Wary, Luella watched as the Fallen unlocked the next door, revealing Bastian, whom she had trouble meeting the eyes of—he had teased her and taunted her mercilessly in their solitude, and her promise to him hung between them like thick smoke. She felt like her every breath was being tracked, and she held herself rigidly. The weight of this moment dangled over her, over them all—the Fallen suspected them to be Umbra…
Tharen was next, and tension lined his shoulders, the tendons in his neck straining as he barely stood still long enough for the Fallen to deem him untouched by the Umbra. His white hair was free of braids, and something about the unfettered sight of the mage made her cheeks suffuse with warmth.
He stood before her, light blue eyes dipping to take in her too-large boots, to the very tip of her frizzy hair, stalling at the faintest line on her throat, nearly healed from where the spear had cut her. He nodded once, then stepped around Az to guard her back. She was surrounded.
But one was missing.
The one she dreaded seeing the most.
She held her breath as the final door opened.
As Graves stepped out from the shadows, she gasped.
He was…
