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Or at least Aurelia and I won’t. I pivot from his hard stare and go back to Aurelia. Leaning over her, my fists sink into the mattress as I press a kiss to her temple.
Her brows furrow even in her fitful slumber, and I close my eyes, breathing in her scent. For the briefest of moments, I let my forehead touch hers before snapping back to standing.
I’ll keep them alive.
I’ll keep her alive.
Assuming my place just outside the bedroom door, I shield Aurelia as best I can. Evan and West take the second floor with Ian and Aidan as backup. The brothers stick to the shadows, ready to take out any threat that slips past us.
Just keep breathing.
Keep. Breathing.
And with that last thought, soldiers begin storming Aurelia’s house, trying to find a breach point.
AURELIA
Her first strike is a tease—a silly feint I easily avoid. The real blow comes when I move to the left, directly into her waiting blade. She makes a shallow slash to the skin of my bicep.
Rooky mistake. I should know better.
As much as it goads me, I have to treat her with the respect she deserves—the cow did take over my mind and body.
If I underestimate her, I’m dead.
It’s easy to phase here in this dark corner of my brain, the fabric of reality thin. One second, I’m normal, and the next I’m battle-ready. The flames start at my fingertips, catching like a brushfire over the skin of my arms and chest, before coating the skirt of the black dress I only now notice I’m wearing.
What is with this woman and evening dresses? I know I didn’t dream this stupid-ass frock on myself.
The wings come next, erupting from my back, and a satisfied smile graces my lips when I hear the fabric of the fancy dress rip. I shudder in relief as the wings fully extend, their blunted tips reaching out to my sides before folding back to resting.
Resting but ready.
I remember so clearly how much I wanted vengeance for Lucien. For my child.
But now, I want it more for myself.
For the life I could have had—with or without Lucien.
For Rhys whose only crime was doing the right thing.
For the wraiths that died in their beds, committing no crime other than being born.
For every Aegis slaughtered.
Testing how the weight affects my balance, I crack my neck and pop my knuckles.
Iva wants my A-game? She’ll get it.
Patiently, I wait for her next strike. The whispers of her thoughts buzz like a swarm of wasps, offering me the knowledge she’s trying to hide. Strangely, I sense my body on the outside, lying in bed, and here on the inside, coated in the warm fingers of my fire.
How is that possible?
Somehow, I realize if she hurts me here, it will hurt me out there. If she manages to kill me here, I’ll be nothing but ashes.
She can’t come at me in the real world, so she had to take the coward’s way in?
Fuck. That.
