Chapter 42

Raz and I landed in Tempeste under the fading light, the sun completing its arc across the pale blue sky and outlining the circling Reapers in a golden glow that made them look almost ethereal.

"Head inside. I'm right behind you." Raziel gripped his knife in one hand, but I was relying on my magical shield to keep us—and our scents—hidden from the ravenous creatures overhead.

We crept up those bloodstained steps, passed beneath the city's memorial arch—almost a twin to Stormfall's—then disappeared into the soot-covered, burned-out Citadelle, noses jammed into our elbows to block out the stench of rotting bodies.

We picked our way around debris, up staircases jammed with the corpses of innocent servants and not-so innocent soldiers, and past the wrecked throne room, one white marble pillar broken in half, half the roof collapsed.

We'd run out of sunlight when we arrived at Torin's room, where I couldn't stop checking the crow-like Reapers through the hole in the ceiling to make sure they weren't diving for us.

"Are you sure about this, Anaria?" Raziel asked softly. I unfastened my cloak then slipped off my shirt, shivering when the chill hit me like a wall of ice. He had already stripped to the waist, and his shirt hung to my knees, his cloak dragging on the floor. When he wrestled my too small shirt over his muscled torso he looked ridiculous, but appearances didn't matter.

What did matter was our scent-saturated clothing—worn for days and days while we traveled to the Barrens.

"No. But this is…" I blew out a shaky breath, exhaustion and the impossibility of what we were up against crashing down on me. "This is the best I could come up with." I forced my lips into a tight smile. "But you know what they say. A bad plan is better than none at all."

Raziel gripped my hands. "This will work, and I shouldn't have even mentioned it."

"No, you should call me out when I'm making a mistake, although"—I glanced up through the hole—"not at the very last minute when we're already committed."

The air in the room shifted, tightened, then Zorander appeared exactly as we'd planned, pinpointing our location perfectly.

He spotted Carex's headless, bloated carcass, his nose wrinkling before he tipped his head back to survey the sky overhead. "It'll be dark in a few minutes."

"Then we wait," I said quietly, picking up a book on Fae war history, then another on ancient royal bloodlines, and two on arcane magic, until I had four stacked on the floor beside me.

The demolished room looked the same from when a rageful Raziel had thundered in on a sea of blue-black magic to save me.

One wall was entirely gone, books strewn everywhere, some burned, the others shredded…and then there was Carex's body, picked over by the rats that no longer had a dungeon full of prisoners to gnaw on.

Good. A flash of grim, fierce approval went through me at this lovely bit of twisted revenge dealt out by the universe.

I was glad he was gone, but…

Some part of me wished I could have saved this city, too, along with its people. Now they were scattered across the three realms. That didn't make me a liberator, it made me…I didn't know what but something almost as bad as Carex.

Maybe worse since he never pretended to be anything other than a monster.

While I was busy pretending I wasn't a monster at all.

"It's time," Zorander said roughly, backing away to give me space.

I cocked my head at the enormous skull. "Do you want to…I don't know, look at it for a while longer?" I asked Raz softly. "This is, after all…you. Sort of."

All of our skulls were down in those tunnels except for this one, brought up here to be put on display. Gattica, the god that was Raziel's ancestor. Predecessor.

Whatever you called Gattica, he'd been huge, bigger than the rest of us, and just look at those fangs…so wicked and curved.

"No thank you. Once is enough."

"Agreed." I looked between them. "Ready? We don't know how long we'll have before she arrives. Could be minutes or hours." But she'd come. For this, she would come.

Raziel sent a spiral of magic up to the gaping hole and closed it off, surrounding us in a cocoon of magic reinforced by a layer of Zorander's shadows. Enough, we hoped, to keep those Reapers from swooping down on us.

I sent my magic crackling toward the skull, shadows thundering like a hammer swing, powerful enough to shatter bone, and shatter it did, sending slivers of yellowed bone across the floor at our feet until we stood in a sea of golden rubble.

But I wasn't looking at the destruction. I was staring at Raziel.

"Do you feel any different?" I breathed, picking up the books and clutching them to my chest.

"Nope. Still the same old pain in your arse." He grinned and something inside me relaxed. I'd argued with myself about this for hours, about the chances that if we destroyed the skull, it might somehow destroy Raz and…

Sometimes it was good to be wrong.

Zor's head was tipped back, studying those airborne creatures, so dark I could barely make them out against the sky. But nothing came flying from the darkness ready to devour and shred.

Still, we'd be fools to relax our guard.

"So now what? Do we just…"

Raziel's shields peeled back, the walls shuddering as a ripple of dark power thrummed through the air, sending me staggering backward, loose, oversized boots slipping on bone shards as the Oracle materialized in the center of the room, her back to the decimated skull throne.

"Anaria. I wondered when you'd slither back to the scene of your greatest crime." The Oracle's dark eyes dipped to the pile of books clutched in my arms. "I see you've come to retrieve some items for Torin." Her gaze narrowed. "Or are those for you?"

"Too bad you'll never know." I tipped my chin higher.

She was hideously beautiful with her dark, devouring gaze, those cherry-red lips, and perfect white skin. Was this truly the magic restoring her to her previous form…or an illusion?

"You don't know how to submit, do you? I should kill you right now."

"Ah, but you can't." I stepped in front of Zorander, my body a shield between us as darkness enfolded her like a spider's web. "Kill me now and you'd have to start all over again. Just think of the centuries you'll waste."

"Anaria," Zor hissed in warning.

"You are fast becoming more trouble than you are worth." The Oracle's midnight gaze skimmed over us and Raz bared his teeth in feral challenge, a growl brewing in his chest.

In response, she licked her lips, the predatory glow in her eyes turning hungrier.

Good. Hungry was good. We had to keep her focused on us, away from the north, away from the pendant and tonight's real purpose.

"No wolf tonight." Her wet lips caught the light. "Did he finally die? The poor thing was so sick, death would have been a mercy."

"Like you know anything about mercy."

"No," she admitted. "I don't. What do you need the books for, Anaria?" Her body bled black shadows as she stalked closer, her eyes fixed on the spines, angled so the titles were clearly visible.

"Magic? Fae history? Bloodlines?" She clucked her tongue. "Whatever are you trying to prove, Anaria? Or better yet, what is Torin searching for in the wreckage?"

"I'll never tell you anything," I muttered stubbornly, clutching the books closer. "Don't you have someone to torture or kill?" I braced myself then gave her a mocking smile just to piss her off.

"Oh, that's right, there's nobody left."

Raziel's hand skimmed lightly up my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

A reminder not to drag this out any longer than necessary.

The Oracle took another step, her foot crunching on crumbled bone, her face slackening when she beheld what littered the entire floor and the empty spot where the skull throne used to sit, her breaths turning jagged.

When her head whipped up, her eyes meeting mine, I couldn't decipher her expression. Furious out-of-control rage, but something else, something I'd counted on seeing but hadn't been sure I was right about, not until this very moment.

Complete devastation.

"Why?" she keened. "Why would you destroy the skull?" The Oracle was genuinely distraught, dark magic leaking from her eyes and mouth, the smell of brimstone stronger than the stench of decay. "Why this one?"

Her anguish was the key sliding into a lock, the proof that I'd been right, that she had a singular weakness we could exploit.

Delight—every bit as wicked as this evil creature—coursed through me.

I fucking loved when I was right.

"Because that thing was a fucking abomination. A monster," I taunted softly. "That was Gattica, wasn't it? And now you'll never touch him again." I swiped my foot through the bone shards, sending them flying as I gave her a wicked smile. "Unless, of course, you want to scoop him up and put him in a jar."

Please, please, do not send me to the Pit and make me burn for this unforgiveable desecration, I prayed in case there were any gods left listening. I only did this for the good of Valarian. I did this so we can build a better world.

Zor vanished, gone in the blink of an eye.

Her scream of fury ripped my hair free, stirring up a storm of dust and paper so thick I held up a hand to shield my eyes.

Raziel slammed into me from behind, wrapping me in his arms, the Oracle's dark power reaching out to snare us…but Raziel was already sweeping us out of this room and into oblivion.

We were hurtlingthrough a freezing no man's land—wherever this was—where nothing was solid and time itself streamed past us in a constantly changing ribbon of shadow and darkness.

We never stopped moving, but I managed to open my eyes enough to give Raz the barest nod goodbye as he handed me off to Zorander, darkness an ebony wave around us, cold pouring down my throat.

This was the tricky part of tonight's plan.

The part that could get us all torn to shreds. But then Zor's strong arms banded around me, tight enough to crush the air from my lungs as Raz spun away into the churning dark wave and disappeared, his gleaming brown eyes the last thing I saw before time and space blurred together again in a frantic rush.

Zor and I flew and flew, cold ripping at my face and hair, my lips drying out and cracking before we finally stopped, my feet slamming down into the wet, loamy soil of the forest, landing so hard the books went flying.

Zor doubled over, hand braced on his knees as he gasped for breath, body heaving.

I let him recover—no sense wasting energy on answering my stupid questions, which he couldn't answer anyway—and gathered up the books.

He straightened, gripping my arm. "Two more jumps."

Then we were flying again.

We crashed down in front of Stormfall in a tangle of limbs, Zor unconscious, his face coated with frozen sweat, wet clothes glued to his body and already stiffening in the cold. He'd been on the verge of unconsciousness for a while. I didn't know how, but he'd gotten us here.

Somehow, he'd gotten us to safety.

"Somebody help us. Please, oh, please help," I screamed, the useless books spilling into the snow-swept rock. "Somebody."

Two witches raced out of the fortress, Bella right on their heels.

They lifted him and dragged Zor inside, up the stairs to our room, where Bella ignited a roaring fire in the grate, turning the room into an oven.

"What did you do?" Bella demanded as I stripped Zor's clothes off, his teeth chattering.

"We destroyed something very near and dear to the Oracle. Raz handed me off to Zor midflight, and he's currently leading her on a merry chase all the way to Darkhold. He'll keep moving until the sun comes up tomorrow."

"Do you think the diversion worked?" Bella finally asked once we had Zor stripped and settled. I eased into the bed next to him, mopping sweat from his brow. I'd only seen him this drained once before, and his vulnerability terrified me.

I curled around him, wishing Raziel was here with us instead of where he was.

Leading our most dangerous enemy away on a wild goose chase, risking his life so we had a better chance of killing those enemies when the time finally came.

I wiped the rag down Zorander's pale cheek again. "Let's hope so, or the Oracle will be beating down your doors and skinning us all alive."

One of the witches laid the stolen books carefully on the table.

"What are these?" Bella sorted through them.

I barely glanced at them. "Nothing. A distraction to buy us more time. The Oracle seemed to buy the ruse. She might even waste time trying to decide what we're up to."

"These Fae books on magic are next to worthless…" Bella sucked in a breath then paused. "But this one on ancient bloodlines…that I can use."

"Keep them all." I shrugged. "I doubt Torin will care."

Tavion exploded into the room, his furious gaze skimming over me then softening. "Heal him," he ordered. "He's nearly burned out." His shredding grin bared teeth growing longer by the minute. "Heal him now."

"Tavion," I scolded. "You don't give orders here."

But Bella shot him a cold look then laid her hand on Zorander's forehead, a pale blue glow igniting between her palm and Zor's clammy skin. In seconds he'd relaxed; his lips weren't so tight and color flushed his face.

"There. He'll be fine and your plan worked. You must be so happy." Tavion leveled the whole of his attention on me and I tried not to wither beneath that stare as he tossed the iron bands onto the end of the bed.

"See? I didn't lose them after all." I winced at his too cheerful tone. "Now that you're back, put those on and let's, you and I, have a little chat, wife."

Five minuteslater we were locked in some nondescript room down the hall, far enough away, hopefully, from the others they wouldn't hear the shouting.

"If you're looking for an apology"—I crossed my arms over my chest—"you will be waiting a long time. I did what I did and I'm not sorry."

"Are you ever?" Tavion's eyebrow went up and godsdamn it, but he only looked more fucking handsome.

"Sometimes, yes, I am. But not tonight."

He tossed his cloak into the corner, never taking his eyes off me as he stalked closer with those smooth, prowling steps. "You promised to not leave me behind. You fucking promised." His teeth gleamed like knives and a shiver went through me.

"Tonight didn't require your skills. But there will be other nights when you'll be the one at risk. You'll be the one I worry over. And someone else will be left behind to brood." Tavion kept coming, and I retreated until my back collided with the wall behind me.

His fists punched the wall on both sides of my head, caging me in, every breath labored, jaw clenched tight. His eyes were so close I saw myself reflected in them like mirrors, the pine-kissed heat from his body coiling around me.

"You are mine, Tavion. My love. My responsibility." I smoothed my hands up his chest, his neck, until I cupped his face. "My husband. And I will never risk you, not unless I have no other choice. You want to be pissy at me for being left behind, then be pissy. Let me know when you're over your temper and we can have a civil conver?—"

His kiss wasn't the searing storm I was used to, not meant to wipe away my anger or give into his own.

Tavion pressed his lips to one corner of my mouth then the other. A soft, gentle caress, as slow as it was revealing, full of all the things Tavion could not yet say but that I'd seen in his eyes, heard in his voice these past weeks.

His mouth moved against mine, his tongue exploring, caressing, tracing, as if reminding himself of my taste and feel, that he was mine and I was his. And maybe we both needed that reminder as I wound my fingers into his silky hair and yanked him closer.

His deep, thorough kiss was the storm that washed away the sight of Zor lying in that bed and my fears that what lay ahead was too much for us to survive.

Everything faded away. Everything except for his hard body moving against mine, his mouth gentle yet relentless, giving and taking, his skin burnished velvet beneath my hands.

When we broke apart I was dazed, lost in his scent and the feel of him. Drowning in those green eyes, greener than the water that came off the mountains, greener than the first leaves of spring.

"I will love you forever, Anaria." His eyes searched mine, and as if he'd found the answer to his question, he nodded. "You saved me, not only from this world"—Tavion pressed my hand over his racing heart—"but you healed my heart. Made me whole again."

"Tavion, I—" His finger pressed to my lips, stopping the rest.

"I would crawl through fire for you just to worship at your feet. You own my every breath; every part of me belongs to you. If you willed it, I would rip out my beating heart and offer it up to you as a sacrifice, and know this…" His eyes burned. "Even that would not make me worthy of you."

His smile turned crooked. "But next time, I'm going with you."