XXXV

T error held Stella in a death grip as the brilliant spirit took form before her eyes. It was a replica of the statue—of the God .

Stella couldn't breathe. The spirit's presence was too much. Pressure built all around her at an extreme rate. Her ears popped. Her skin felt razed to the bone.

She thought for one disastrous second she might implode, and then the God looked at her.

Time stopped.

The canine face of the deity glared at her with such hatred she burst into sobs. I can't die here. This is a dream, Stella tried to rationalize to no avail. This is a dream . The God spirit raised its hand as if to swat away a fly and a flash of light scorched her retinas. Stella collapsed onto her back as a blast of heat poured over her body, her arm raised weakly too late to protect her eyes.

Seconds later, the heat vanished from the air leaving Stella in an arctic cold. She lay stunned for several minutes, her body shivering as her head throbbed in the worst pain she'd ever felt. Crying still, she managed to roll onto her side and push herself up onto her forearm. Her stilted breath clouded before her face.

The debilitating pressure suffocating the room was gone and so was the glowing spirit. Yet she found little comfort in the knowledge as shock assaulted her nervous system.

Stella sat up with care. Pain sliced up her joints like a thousand splinters jamming into sinew and bones. A groan cut out of her.

She couldn't believe she survived. Fresh tears poured out of her. Her hand wrapped around the back of her neck as she tried to calm her staccato breathing.

I survived… but at what cost?

A shiver ran down her body. She needed to leave. She couldn't decipher if the cold manifested from the sudden absence of the God or a sign of one of her hallucinations. Stella scanned the room. Even the dozens of candles lighting the space seemed dimmer.

Her teeth began to chatter as she pushed to her feet and shuffled toward the—

The door was gone.

A wave of heat caressed her back, the way a lover's hand might ghost up one's spine. But it wasn't just any warmth. It was the same blistering warmth that leveled her only minutes ago. Stella froze.

Was it a warning?

Was it real?

"Stella," a phantom voice whispered at her back. "Turn around and face your future."

Bile rose to the back of her throat at the unnatural voice. Stella's hands fisted. Her nails bit into the flesh of her palm without restraint. That self-inflicted pain was real.

But what of the persistent cold? Stella's breath still clouded before her.

" Stella ." The omnipresent voice sounded directly in her head.

Her reaction was instantaneous; her hands shot to her ears to cover them, and she whirled around. The sight that greeted her—

She bent over and heaved. The contents of her stomach splashed out onto the floor, and she trembled. There was no stopping the horror or fear that spiraled through her. Not when… not when…

Tears blurred her vision as she shuffled and stumbled back a few steps. Her legs quivered on the verge of collapse.

The dais was in use, and this time, only familiar faces stared back at her. Raphael didn't seem to see her though. No, he looked straight through her. He was strapped to a table in the middle of the dais. His chest was a mess of flesh and blood that was tame in comparison to—to.

A sob caught in Stella's throat.

His head laid flat against the table. The feat should have been impossible given his horns, but one of them was missing . No, not missing.

Stella's eyes drifted to the top of the table where the horn sat in a puddle of blood shared by the one Raphael's head laid in.

And then there was Layla. Stella glanced down to the right. She lay in a discarded heap on the floor near the table's feet. A bloody ribbon stained her gaping throat and her eyes stared blankly ahead.

Face your future

It couldn't be true. It couldn't.

Then, the third and final player revealed themself appearing out of the shadows behind the golden effigy. Stella's breath caught. Her nightmare demon. Blood splattered his rune-covered bare chest. Stella cringed at the sight. Her eyes lingered fearfully over the puckered pink scar over his heart and then his twisted copper horns.

A promise of violence hung about him as if the end of days would happen at his hands and no one else's. Her gaze flickered to the object he held. A bloodied hand saw.

A rush of lightheadedness struck her.

The demon's free hand whipped out like an asp to clutch Raphael's remaining horn. Her soulmark let out an anguished scream as the saw's teeth met its base. An ugly smirk slashed across the demon's face and then—

"No!'

Stella thrust out her hands as her sonic command torpedoed into the demon. He lurched back and Stella gasped.

Real or not real?

She didn't know—oh Gods, she didn't know—but it didn't matter. Her feet backpedaled toward where the door should be. Away from the demon. Away from her future. A flash of confusion registered on the demon's face before he stiffened, and his eyes bled black. His demonic gaze landed on Stella immediately.

His smirk returned and he pointed the saw at her. "I'll see you soon."

On the heel of his threat, a wild wave of desert heat hit Stella that vanquished the cold and scorched her skin. It slammed into her full force, knocking her off her feet and back into her bedroom where she awakened in a lurch.

"Shit!" Someone cried as she rolled and tumbled to the floor.

"Oh, my Gods, Stella, are you all right? Stella? Talk to us."

Warm hands fell on her shoulders offering her support, while another pair pushed back her short hair. Stella doubled over and heaved until her stomach cramped in protest. When the worst of her dizziness and fear passed, she hauled herself into a seated position with her back against the bed. At least my terrible headache is gone. She wiped at her mouth tiredly, and as the stench of her vomit reached her nose, she groaned.

"I'll take care of that," River said. "Nova, would you get her a glass of water?"

Stella kept her eyes closed as she leaned her head against the mattress. A brief tingling sensation washed over her along with the feeling of safety.

"Are you okay?"

"No." Stella's eyes opened weakly. "Yes." She met River's concerned regard. "Both?"

River took hold of one of her hands. "You can be both."

Stella sniffed and her nose wrinkled.

"You threw up on yourself too." Stella watched Nova reenter the room. "River cleaned you up after it happened, and we got you on your side right away, but, yeah. You still smell."

Nova crouched down and handed Stella the glass of water. She took a few small sips before forcing herself to rise.

"Are you sure—"

"I need to brush my teeth." She still trembled lightly but they allowed her the reprieve, not saying a word until she reentered the bedroom. Stella made a beeline for her dresser, wanting new clothes.

"What happened?"

Stella's hands stalled before her dresser drawer. She couldn't get herself to look at Nova, let alone speak. So, she carried on and plucked a top at random from her dresser to don. In the all-to-brief interim, she couldn't shake the unease writhing underneath her skin, nor the lingering sense of panic.

This is real , she told herself. This is real, and you're safe. You're okay.

"Stella?"

"Huh?"

River's brow was deeply furrowed. The tilt of her lips anchored firmly down. "What happened? We tried waking you because you started to convulse, but we couldn't. Then you got sick, so we rolled you onto your side." Stella chewed on the inside of her cheek. "You were probably only out for fifteen minutes. What happened? Do you remember?"

Stella nodded weakly, her eyes fluttering closed. "Reversed, upside-down umbrella. Half circle with a spike. Triangle inside a triangle. Half circle with dots, above a thing . "

Nova and River's perplexed expressions met her expectantly when she opened her eyes.

"Are we supposed to understand that code?" Nova asked.

"It's not a code."

Stella described the dreamscape as best as she could along with its location. Next the scroll and her abstract memorization. As she recalled the attack, a cold wave of fear washed over her, and the memory ran from her. It was as if her mind was trying to protect her from whatever she saw.

"At least no one got sacrificed," Nova offered lamely as she took a seat on the end of the bed. She hadn't taken her eyes off Stella once. Neither had River.

An agreement rested on Stella's tongue, but a strange and forceful hesitation stopped her. "I think... I think someone was."

The blurred image of Raphael's battered form, his head encased in a pool of blood made her heart skip a beat. A lump of emotion stuck in her throat. Is that what I saw?

"Um, Stella?"

Her heart started to race and wave after wave of anxiety hit her. Am I having a panic attack?

"Stella?"

"What?" Stella's attention snapped to River. A rapid knock sounded in the silence between them.

River's eyebrows raised, her gaze flickering toward the curtain of beads. "Are you going to get that?"

It took several long seconds for Stella to register the second round of rapid knocking. Another spike of worry speared through her, and Stella suddenly knew who it was. She strode from the pair to the front door, hands racing to unlock each bolt before throwing the door open.

Raphael was there. Face pale. Horns still intact. Relief overcame Stella, and before she knew what she was doing, she threw herself out the door and straight into his waiting arms.

"You're all right?" Raphael's words came out muffled against the side of her neck. He breathed in her cool scent and the tension riding his muscles loosened inch by inch.

His hold on her, however, didn't.

Stella returned the gesture, imprinting her warmth onto him. A few breaths later, they both began to release one another. As Raphael's gaze lifted he caught an unwelcome sight in her apartment: River and Nova.

They both glared at him.

"What happened to you?" Raphael couldn't help but ask as he looked River up and down. The witch intensified her glare. His hands lingered on Stella's hips, fingers clenching to stop her from turning. Raphael glanced down at her face. She looked tired but relieved.

It was something they had in common.

"Can I speak with you privately?" He kept his voice low, but not enough.

"Fuck no," Nova answered before Stella's mouth had even opened.

"I second that," River asserted.

Possessiveness surged through him at their refusal. He guided Stella closer to him. She inched forward without complaint, and he smirked at the two Vranas.

"She can answer for herself."

A flood of pink covered Stella's cheeks, capturing his attention. She looked up at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes. He frowned at the detail he'd missed. Raphael started to question what had brought on her tears when she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.

"It's fine," she said in a husky voice.

Nova's expression remained cold. "Don't forget what we talked about."

From his angle, he saw Stella's flush grow. A curl of anger rose in him. He could feel her embarrassment and annoyance. Raphael felt a measure of shock that the barrier between their soulmarks was down but relished in the secret knowledge, nonetheless.

"I said I'll be fine. I have everything handled." Nova pierced Stella with a look of pure condescension, and she went rigid under his hands. "I don't need a bodyguard."

Nova's expression faltered. Chucking up her chin, she said with an almost imperceptible snarl. "You don't owe him shit. Your mission is done." Raphael stiffened and waited for Stella's reply, but she said nothing. " Fine then . Have your private talk." She stormed from the apartment, almost barreling into them as she did.

Raphael eyed River as she approached them next.

"Be careful."

"I know how to take care of myself," Stella told her softly but sternly. River smiled weakly at her.

"Of course." She reached out and squeezed Stella's shoulder as she passed. "Feel better. See you later tonight?" Stella dipped her head. "Come early if you can." They stood in silence with his hands still gripping her hips until River vanished from sight down the hall.

Raphael cleared his throat. When she didn't acknowledge the noise, he lifted a hand to her chin and guided her attention to him. "Shall we?" He let his gaze flick to her apartment.

Stella's features pulled into a troubled frown. "No. Let's go for a walk instead."

"You're sure?"

She nodded, but her gaze remained distant. "Just let me put on some shoes." She did, and as she pulled the door closed behind her, a canon of locks sounded off before leaving them in silence.

"Come on." Stella slipped out of his hold and started making her way down the hall. Her nervousness resonated through the bond, but she kept it hidden from her expression. They walked a ways before Stella finally asked, "What did you want?"

You.

His heart contracted at the unbidden thought. Stella glanced at him, slight suspicion bunching her brow. He wondered if she knew how easily she projected her feelings to him.

Or when he'd become so adept at reading them.

It's the soulmark, you idiot. Don't get your knickers in a twist.

"What was Nova's little comment about?"

Stella whipped her gaze ahead.

"Did you tell her about us?" Raphael pressed, voice low though the hall was clear of any courtiers.

"Of course not."

A flash of hurt cut him at her quick reply. Stella slowed her step, casting him a cautious look. Pressure was building on their bond. Raphael kept his eyes forward even as his lips pressed together. She was trying to shut him out.

He had other plans in mind. "Why not? Ashamed? Scared of what they might think of you if they knew you were stuck with me?"

Stella scoffed, but the sound was forced. He peeked down at her. She was fighting off a blush, but the pressure around their bond was far less than before his question.

"What's it to you?"

Raphael hummed in acknowledgment before stepping ahead of Stella and standing in her path. She came to a startled halt as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Deflecting?" The color on her cheeks intensified. Raphael leaned forward. "I don't care why you haven't told them… but I want a real answer to my first question. What mission was Nova talking about?"

Mistrust and unease smacked into him through the bond before Stella shot around him, muttering. He reached out but found his efforts halted by invisible hands— the little devil.

A few incendiary seconds later, her little trick wore off, and Raphael stumbled sideways. He righted himself with a huff and stared down the empty hall. His gaze shifted to the nearest intersection, and he took off, spotting her instantly once he rounded the corner.

"Did you really just use your power on me?" he seethed as he got within arm's reach of her.

Stella spared him a glare over her shoulder; mouth already opened to deliver some pointless retort. Raphael was having none of it. His gloved hand snatched out and wrapped around her bicep to guide her forcefully to the nearest alcove. The hall she escaped to was in poor use, with dim lighting and art that had seen better nights, but at least it allowed for some privacy.

She let out a humph as he released her and cornered her.

"What mission did you complete?"

A whirl of her emotions assaulted him through the bond, embarrassment the prominent force, so much so that it almost masked the other far more telling ones. Shame. Vindication. Conflict. Raphael caught his tongue between his teeth, tempering his growing bitterness.

"Was it me?" he asked with soft menace. "Was I your mission ?"

She couldn't smother her guilt fast enough. It pierced him like a javelin's head. Raphael bit down on his tongue sharply and tasted blood. He couldn't stand the stark quiet that surrounded them or her refusal to air what he knew to be true.

"Your silence is answer enough," he spat. "And so is the soulmark."

Stella sucked in a tight breath. His came a moment later as their emotions collided together.

His anger. Her guilt. His pain. Her defensiveness.

"Do you know why I came to your door tonight?"

"No."

"Because one moment you were there, and then next you were gone ." A shudder ran through him as he relived the moment. He'd only just gotten in sight of the fourth subfloor's connection to the main stairwell, his tail tucked between his legs at the searing loss of Jax, only for a greater loss to absorb him. It was like being in freefall—a terrifying, endless free-fall. The sheer terror turned his blood to ice.

He thought the pain of losing Jax was awful, like his insides had been ripped to pieces, only to realize who was the true center of his world. A lump clotted his throat.

He'd lost her, and there was nothing he could do except run straight to her apartment and hope she was there.

"Some part of me knew you weren't dead, but you were gone from this world. And I was…"

Out of my mind.

Raphael ducked his chin to his chest and breathed harshly as his initial anger swiftly transformed. He couldn't outrun the fear the thought of losing her inspired. Raphael's head spun. How such an emotion could overtake him was beyond his comprehension. Yet, somehow, this slip of a woman had done just that.

Warm fingers grazed his cheek, then a palm cupped his jaw.

"Raphael?"

Stella met his regard unabashedly, with kindness and something else in her own. Raphael swallowed, falling deeper into her crystalline eyes and the warm emotion outpouring from them.

Outpouring for him. Damn it all, but he was mad for her.

"You're not allowed to die," he commanded with fervor.

Stella's lips parted, and he watched, enthralled as her eyes dilated. A shot of electricity passed between them. Raphael felt it all the way down to his toes. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and his pulse jolted in response. Whether the movement was unconscious or not, he couldn't let it pass.

It's the soulmark. A voice cautiously reasoned in his head, but he was beyond caring about what may or may not be the true source of his desire. Before he knew what he was doing, his lips were upon hers.

Raphael coaxed the seam of her mouth open with his tongue, devouring Stella's whimper of acquiescence. There was nothing quite like the taste of her. Or the touch of her. Everything about her was intoxicating to him. She was warm and oh-so pliant beneath his questing lips, submitting to his dominance without an ounce of protest.

His blood sang.

Raphael's cock twitched, growing heated as he pressed into her. She gasped, leaning into him with the same passion and clawing at his neck to bring him closer. He didn't bother to suppress his moan as her hands dived into his hair and felt the brush of her fingertips against his horns. Another jolt of electricity pulsed through his bloodstream.

He needed more.

Raphael tore off his gloves driven by the need to properly feel her skin—to know that she was alive and not gone.

Alive and his .

As his mouth brandished a stream of open-mouth kisses to her neck, teeth, and tongue tasting the flesh offered, he relished in the fire building between them. Damn the consequences and fate that awaited them. The desire between them went deeper than lust. It forged him anew.

A palm of hers sank to flatten against Raphael's heart and pushed gently. Her head weaved slightly to the side, blocking Raphael's access to her neck. He pulled back and stared at her wide-eyed. Their panted breaths mingled together as they stared each other down.

Raphael had never felt so strongly pulled to another before. He knew rationally the soulmark's influence played a hand, but then there was the—

He stiffened slightly.

Amongst the desire that flowed equally between them, another emotion lingered, poisoning it. Guilt .

His thoughts rapidly traced back to their conversation pre-kiss. "Was I the mission?" he asked breathlessly. She trembled in his arms. "I can feel you," Raphael held her tightly, muscles tensing as her guilt and shame grew. "I know you're holding back something from me."

The words rattled her. At once, a surge of animosity rose from her side of the bond. "You're one to talk!" she argued back with an almost frantic air. "I don't believe for a single second that you want the grimoire for a protection spell. You're hiding the real reason you want it behind some—some flimsy lie!"

The singing in his blood quieted slowly. Raphael was keenly aware they stood at the precipice of a different kind of free fall. It coiled inside him with urgent tension. Stella mirrored him, both inside and out, and his mouth ran dry.

Tonight, he experienced loss on levels he wished to forget. If he mis-stepped again, now a sixth sense warned it would be all over for him. For them.

Put all your cards on the table, a desperate voice whispered. Raphael held back a wince. Put most of your cards on the table, it corrected.

"I'll tell you my truth if you tell me yours," he bargained hoarsely.

Stella's face shifted into an expression of grim determination. Her throat bobbed before saying, "My mission was about you."

"I gathered as much," Raphael said, voice constricted with disappointment. "A new truth, if you will."

Color splashed her cheeks, and Raphael's attention went straight to her lips as she wet them and shifted in his arms. Her mouth was still swollen from their kiss, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from them as she spoke. At first, her words didn't register, but when they did, the world tilted on its axis.

"What did you say?" His question flew off the back of a shallow gasp.

Stella cringed. "It wasn't just about you per se. It was about your blood. We needed it to know if the demons were involved in Irina's curse, so we could reverse it."

A shower of pinpricks started at the tip of his horns and traveled down his body, rattling his entire being. The pant that had been dying on his lips returned with an air of hysteria.

"What have you done?" He whispered lurching backward. "Do you have any idea the forces you're messing with?"

Her answering frown held a somber edge to it. "I think I have a pretty good idea."