Page 34 of Elysian

I knew she was gone. Cassiel speaking in my mind had told me as much. If not the coldness that had taken the spot that held Piper. I could not breathe. My vision swam.

A bellow came, loud and rattling, reaching inside my chest.

“Cassiel,” I gasped. Al caught my arm before I bolted forward.

“Officer,” he ordered, and Officer Brandt approached.

Meanwhile, I collected myself, breathing through the urge. It was the first time Cassiel had woken in so long. Al allowed me a single peek at him each dawnlight. His wounds seemed to be healing.

“I apologize. I do not know what came over me.”

“It is completely ordinary to feel this way, Miss Amara.” He patted the top of my hand. “That is to be expected for Elysian Pairs.”

“It makes me . . . care for him?” A flush warmed my face.

“No,” he chortled. “It has nothing to do with emotion. I mean in a physical sense. Your urge to see him.”

“Oh.” I smoothed my hands on my frock, swiping the blood that continued to leak. He continued peering at me with a small, mischievous smile, as if he found my discomfort humorous.

“Come, we must check on the Warlord.”

I followed him unseeingly. Only the outline of his slightly hunched shoulders allowed me a point to follow. It felt as if water pressed around me, suffocatingly. I could not hear. Hester’s concerned face flashed in my vision for a split second, then I was past the entrance to the hidden chamber.

The gas lamp beside the entrance cast light across Cassiel’s features. He stood in the middle of the glass cell. The chain attached to the stone wall behind him stretched out as far as possible.

“Mortal,” Cassiel breathed. His hands flexed at his sides.

Now that he was standing, I could see the extent to which he had deteriorated. The hollows present on his cheeks had grown, and he looked close to ivory.

“He must feed,” I blurted.

“My lord!” Hester’s voice echoed.

“I will allow you some time together.” Al retreated to the door. “If you have need for me, call.”

He left, and I rushed toward the pane, pressing my hands against the surface.

“Where am I?” he croaked, voice muffled.

“Where they kept the prophet.”

My breath fogged the glass. He surveyed the chamber, his eerie eyes flicking around.

“Sound is muffled from within here.” His gaze fixed on a spot behind me. I followed his focus to the section where stone had chipped off. It showed metal through it.

His focus returned to me. “Are you well?” ‘How is your back?’ His lips tightened into a firm line.

“I am healed,” I answered.

A thud sounded and I whirled toward the bookshelf slamming shut behind a figure. He stepped into the lamplight.

“Amara?” Egan murmured, looking over the expanse of darkness I stood within. As soon as he saw me, he burst forward.

And he was not slowing.

“Stop,” Cassiel warned, but Egan did not even look toward him.

“I was so worried.” He clasped the side of my face, dipping and catching my lips in a kiss so devouring that I had no time to react.