Page 109 of Elysian

Archer!

The doctor shouted, swinging his fist at me. I ducked the blow aimed at my temple. I kicked my foot out and hit him between the legs. He paled and toppled over with a wheeze. I backed away, shoving the salve into the satchel.

‘There you are.’

I was mid-turn when Cassiel plucked me off the ground, Abrax not breaking stride as he pulled me across his lap. I panted, looking up at him. He was livid.

“Cassiel—”

“Not right now,” he bit out, piercing me with a furious glare.

It was not as if I had planned the attack. I whimpered, rubbing my arm where a fresh bruise spread along the length of my arm.

Screams continued to echo. I passed more villagers running, and a woman lay dead while a man dragged her, still sobbing. Another woman lost her footing, and one of the creatures latched onto her legs.

“You must help them,” I breathed.

He said nothing, continuing to ride at breakneck speed. The throb on my arm incrementally abated as I rubbed it. When I looked down, it was gone. Another scream wrenched through the market.

“Cassiel! It is your duty to help⁠—”

“My duty,” he scoffed, a sneer curling his mouth. “I will not place you in danger. Everything—everyone else can go fuck itself.”

The harsh snarl left me mute. Cassiel pulled me against him, riding away.

Sobs burst from my mouth. All that death . . .

I remained numb, unable to feel how hard I shivered, but my teeth clacked with force. How was it possible that the Hollows were developing a new immunity to dawnlight? I could not help but feel as if it was proof of the realm decaying in some way.

Cassiel rode to the side, deep through the stalks. I swiped my palm across my face. Cassiel remained forward and focused. Onyx stained below his nose.

I gasped, reaching up without thought. He frowned down at me as I swiped his upper lip and rubbed the blood on my frock.

“Why are you bleeding?” Had he been struck before arriving?

Cassiel hummed. “It is the cost of what I am,” he said. “Necromancy leaves its mark. It is nothing to concern you.” The vague response gave me no answers.

“Did you raise someone from the dead?”

Cassiel only grunted. I would not get any more from him, so I turned my torso back forward.

“Amara!” Tabby gasped. Her shout reached through the fog clouding my mind. She swam within my vision, mounted before Archer.

Thank Saints she was okay.

“Let’s go. Now,” Archer bit out, and Cassiel pushed Abrax into following them deeper through the foliage.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Hope

Ihuddled on the settee, grimoire and ink sprawled before me. Blood-drenched handkerchiefs littered the ground around me. I was so terribly near completing the translation. A shout reached the chamber, and I stilled, peeking at the door, but no one entered. Cassiel had yet to search for me, but once he discovered I was gone, he would.

Cassiel was beginning to drive me insane. But he was adamant that he did not want me to read it. Any hint of a headache and he would force me to rest.

The frustrating Warlord was much too concerned. I did not want to enjoy it.

“Unbelievable,” Tabby breathed, reading through the journal from the cushioned chaise across from me. Branwen’s mouth moved as she finished reading over her shoulder. “Now my behavior makes sense.” Tabby tapped the page. “I had flashes of intense warmth. Then there was this mad urge to rub against fur and Archer. If it were both, even better.”