2. CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

ENDER

Whelp, that went exactly as I expected.

Stubborn little Seraphim.

I brush a lock of her silky hair away from her face, memorizing the feel of it in my hand.

Long, soft, smooth. It curls around my fingers like a vine around a tree.

Next, I explore her face—the rounded planes of her cheeks, the lush fullness of her lips, the regal slope of her nose, and the feathery fan of her lashes.

My claw dips under her chin, tracing along her throat to rest on her collarbone where I toy with the silk strap of nightgown.

The texture doesn't compare to Sera's skin, and I lose myself in the sensation of touching her.

Another man—a better man—would respect her boundaries, but I'm done waiting.

Seraphina is mine.

Even if I can't have her for forever, she can be by my side for a little bit.

Sighing, I step back from her slumbering form, my quorvim straining in my pants, and I growl.

Everything about this woman pushes me to the brink of my control, and that pisses me off.

I'm always in control—I have to be.

But Sera unravels my eons' worth of discipline.

Shifting away, I drift through the halls and back outside.

The balmy air sticks to my skin, and a very faint tremor ripples through the ground.

They happen from time to time, and no one notices them but me.

In the distance, I hear a band of oozlum swooping across the night sky, and sigh.

Sera might fight me on her destiny, but The Veil is as much her home as it's mine.

Growing up Earthside, she has much to learn about who she is.

I inhale and expand my wings, the stretch burning over my shoulder blades when I extend them as far as they can go.

Having born them nigh my whole life, I'm accustomed to the weight of the feathery mass.

The Seraphim I stole can barely keep herself upright with hers.

They're too large for her body—bigger than even mine—but that's the consequence when one tries to snuff out who they are.

A person can spend a lifetime pretending to be someone they're not, but eventually, everything will catch up.

It's the nature of things, no matter what realm we're in.

Sera has no choice but to adapt to the changes thrust upon her.

There are no other options—she's too obstinate to crumble.

But that doesn't mean she won't battle me every step of the way.

A sick part of me delights in her perverse determination.

The other part dreads the coming weeks, knowing it's more than just Sera I have to take care of.

She will not bend, and I have no intention—or desire—to break her.

I only want to help her before it's too late.

Unfortunately, the sand is nearly gone from the hourglass.

Time is an illusionary luxury that we don't have, even with it slowed in The Veil.

I should've told Ahnou my musing when I had the chance, but I couldn't bring myself to confess about the things foretold to me.

He's already done so much, helping me to bring my mate here.

My mate.

The word rolls through my mind, settling deep in the pit of my stomach, a reminder that Sera is mine but I can never have her.

Knowing this, I swallow back my emotions and launch upward until the coolness becomes cold.

Still I drive myself into the sky, beyond the limits of the night.

When I can barely draw in a breath, the air nearly nonexistent, I pause.

My wings beat, keeping my aloft, while I focus on the rise and fall of my chest.

It's painful, but I lean into the feeling, allowing it to drown out all my other worries and thoughts.

Finally, I'm grounded enough that I slowly float back down.

As an Erlking, my magic is immensely more powerful than those of other Teraphim.

I draw more shadows into my depths, and the darkness is all but one with me.

And like my wings, the excess creates a burden on my body.

Every breath I take is a struggle to keep the balance, both inside and out.

Sometimes I wonder what everyone would do if I didn't care so much.

If I just let this realm collapse.

Foolish thoughts, to be sure, but in stolen moments of weakness, it helps to imagine myself where I can enjoy the world instead of carry it on my shoulders.

When my clawed feet curl into the soil once more, I march back into my house.

My senses are on high alert, but I know Sera is still sleeping.

The lack of screeching and objects thrown at my head verify this.

I run a hand down her arm until I reach her fingers.

They're so small and delicate— human-like . A rather intriguing detail.

For all that she looks, Sera is anything but human.

Despite her wish.

Like me, my mate droops under the burden of who she is, but for different reasons.

Another tremor calls my attention, and my wings curl around my shoulders.

I make sure that Sera is comfortable before leaving to check that the wards in place around the house.

The Veil is meant to be a place of stability and safety for those connected with death.

Oftentimes, it's a haven for monsters who are persecuted Earthside.

But to me, it will always be my home, first and foremost.

It's where I grew up—alone—and I promised myself that no one else would have to experience what I did.

Where I help others find their voice and their purpose.

Where I hoped to grow old with my mate, but both this notion might never come to fruition.

As much as I've claimed Seraphina in my heart, it doesn't make her mine.

And she never can be—not that she would even agree to such a thing.

If her thoughts are anything to go off of, she hates my guts.

The only thing worse than this is her own self-loathing.

It consumes every fiber of her being, and I don't know how to explain to her that it's not worth fighting who she is.

Her mind runs in circles to justify why it's alright to like humans, but not who she really is.

Perhaps spending more time Veil-side will allow Sera to accept her true nature.

Or not.

She's pushed everyone else in her life away, but I refuse to budge.

We're stuck together for the time being, whether she likes it or not.

Grinning at the thought of her outrage if she knew what I was thinking, I finally go back inside for the night.

I want to lay down beside my mate and curl around her wings, but maintaining boundaries is important.

So I plop into another leather chair similar to the one I had in Sera's room and adjust my wings until I'm comfortable.

And then I wait.

I believe Earthside, I would be coined as a creeper.

Or perhaps it's just a creep.

Sitting in chairs across from a bound woman while you imagine the slide of her body against yours probably fits the description.

My lips quirk at my ridiculous thoughts—apparently, a catching syndrome from listening to Sera's.

She's something else, all fire and passion, but fire can burn.

If my mate isn't careful, she'll scorch herself in her quest to be brighter.

Luckily for the little elfling, I won't let anything happen to Sera.

Like The Veil, she's under my protection. I would die for my mate.

And I plan to.