I couldn’t sleep last night, tossing and turning in bed. It stopped raining in the early hours, so I tiptoed out of bed and snuck outside into the yard at the back of the property while the boys were asleep. Daemon is in his bedroom, and Ronan and Alaric are spread out on the couches in the living room. The air smells of damp grass and failure. I’ve tried to fly for the last two hours, but it’s impossible.
I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’m an angel with wings. If I can’t fly, then who am I, and what’s the purpose of my wings? I feel like a fucking failure.
The birds are slowly waking up, singing their songs in the trees. It amazes me that they still know the hour of the day despite the perpetual night. Life finds a way to flourish even in the darkness.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in deeply in an attempt to wrangle my frustration. My shoulders ache from the weight of my wings. It’s a pain I’m quickly growing used to, and until my muscles strengthen, it’ll keep hurting.
I give an experimental flap, but nothing happens. Nothing at all. My bare feet stay planted on the ground.
“Dammit!” I growl.
“Do angels curse in Eden?”
My heart trips over itself and I whirl around. Daemon is slowly walking toward me, his hands in his pockets and shirtless. My mouth goes dry.
“Not trying to escape, are you?”
“No,” I croak as he stops in front of me, towering like a demon.
“Good. Because I would find you.”
My throat is sore from his rough treatment earlier, and bruises litter my body from Alaric’s rough touch. I still can’t believe I begged for his cock and called him Master. It must have been a temporary lapse of judgment because I was drunk on dick and not thinking clearly. Daemon might be the sexiest asshole I’ve ever had the misfortune of stumbling across, but I refuse to be one of his regular groupies. Just because I begged once doesn’t mean I’ll do it again. Not willingly.
“Why are you out here?” he asks, his fingers trailing down my arm.
My skin swells with goosebumps that spread across my arms like a forest fire.
“I’m trying to learn how to fly.”
As he grabs my waist and pulls me to him, our chests collide, knocking the wind out of me. I try to take a breath, but his masculine, earthy scent is everywhere, weakening my resolve.
“Close your eyes.”
“I don’t trust you,” I whisper.
My hard nipples chafe against the thin fabric of my dress while his other hand slides over my hip to my lower back.
“Good. I’m not someone you should trust.”
Despite his warning, my eyes fall closed and my breath catches in my throat when his lips brush my ear.
“You need to believe.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I reply, hyperaware of his possessive touch and his heated breath on my lips.
“Spread your wings again.”
My shoulders strain as I feel the shift in the air behind me. Daemon is standing close, his heat seeping through my thin dress.
“Imagine yourself back in Eden. Your bare feet sink into the grass, and the sun warms your cheeks. Birds sing in the trees as the bushes rustle nearby. A rabbit jumps out, with its twitchy nose and long ears. Everything is peaceful. Tranquil. Up ahead are the tall, golden gates.”
“Daemon,” I whisper, gripping his strong upper arms. “Shut up!”
His chest vibrates against mine with a chuckle.
As I step closer to the gates, my eyes widen. I crane my neck, looking up, up, up into the clouds. “What’s on the other side?”
Freya drops her skipping rope to the grass and scrunches up her freckled nose as she follows my line of sight. “Bad things.”
I snap my eyes to hers. “Bad things? What bad things?”
Freya lost her front baby tooth the other day, and her adult one is peeking out, but it’ll be a while before the gap fills. If the elders knew we were out here, we would be in trouble, but Freya is a good friend. She follows me everywhere.
“I don’t know,” she says. “But the elders say we should stay in here where it’s safe so that no one can steal our light.”
I scan the nearby area until my eyes land on a tall tree with thick branches nearby. It disappears into the clouds. Running over to it, I heave myself up on the first branch.
“What are you doing?” Freya asks curiously.
The green leaves are in full bloom, like they always are here. In the human world, they have seasons. We don’t.
I pull myself up on the second branch, my small legs dangling in the air. “I want to see what’s on the other side.”
“But you’ll fall.”
The next branch is just out of reach. Jumping up and swinging my legs over, I smile down at her. “You’ll catch me.”
Freya shields her eyes from the sun with her hand. “They’ll come looking for us soon.”
“I know. I won’t be long.” My piggy tails are ruined. I have a scraped knee and leaves stuck to my hair. I’ll be in trouble when I get back, but I don’t care.
It takes me a while to reach the top, and by the time I finally heave myself up on the thin branch, I’m breathing hard and my muscles ache. I creep forward, careful not to fall, and move the leaves aside. Beyond the tall gates is a forest—a deep, dark forest lined with fir and birch trees. Low-lying mist hovers above the treetops, seeping into their branches and spilling out on the forest floor. It’s so dark that I can sense the supreme silence from my perch on this branch.
“What can you see?”
Aurelia…
I drag my eyes away. “Err, a forest.”
“A forest? Is that it?” Freya asks, disappointed.
I swallow thickly, and my eyes slowly return to the darkness that seems to be calling out to me.
Aurelia…
I lose my balance, letting out a shriek as I fall. Branches catch my skin, my hair, and my feathers. The pain barely registers.
“Aurelia!” Freya cries, her voice thick with fear.
My wings erupt, knocking into branches, but then the most miraculous thing happens. My downward fall stops. Suspended in midair, I stare wide-eyed while my wings disturb the air with big, powerful sweeps.
Freya gasps and breathes out, “Oh, my God.”
The fear in her voice startles me and I fall the rest of the way, landing with a hard thud.
“Are you okay?” Freya asks, kneeling beside me.
Blinded by the sun, I push up to sitting. There’s not a cloud in the sky. What happened just now? Why did I stop falling?
“Please don’t tell anyone,” I beg, gazing into Freya’s blue eyes.
“I won’t,” she promises.
My eyes fly open, and I blink at Daemon. “I flew!”
He looks adorably confused, if you could ever call anything about Daemon adorable.
“I fell from a tree when I was eight years old.” I hurry to add, “I flew.”
“You flew?”
Nodding eagerly, I continue, “Yes. My wings erupted from my back when I fell, and I hovered in the air for a brief moment. I didn’t even realize I was flying at the time. My best friend was there, and I made her promise never to breathe a word to anyone.”
He starts to speak, but I interrupt him as I step back and place my hands on my head. “I didn’t understand it at the time. It was instinct, Daemon.”
His brows knit together. “So, are you telling me we should shove you off a cliff and see if you fly?”
I stop pacing and roll my eyes at his ridiculous remark. “Very funny. No, my point is that I wasn’t thinking about anything. I wasn’t even trying to make anything happen. It just did.”
“Because you were in danger,” he confirms.
“I can fly, Daemon.” I release a surprised laugh. “I can fly!”
Daemon peers back at the dark house before looking at me. “Then try again.”
“What? Right now?”
He walks toward me with such intention in his dark eyes that I stumble back a step. Damp leaves stick to my bare feet as I retreat, and my heart starts racing in my chest. He doesn’t stop until my back connects with a tree.
Placing his hand on either side of my face on the trunk, he whispers, “Show me your power, little angel.”
My chest rises and falls with each quick breath. He’s so close that his heat burns me everywhere we connect. “I can’t fly if you’re crowding me like this.”
He strokes the backs of his fingers over my collarbone, my pulse point, where my heartbeat flutters against my skin. “So push me away. Tell me to stop.”
I can’t think when he’s this close. Why does he affect me like this? He’s an asshole underneath the smirk and all that delicious muscle.
Sliding my hands up his stomach, I feel each groove contract. My intention is to shove him away—to assert my freedom—but then his lips descend on mine, and his kiss is so sweet and toe-curling that I sink into him.
“Angel,” he whispers, braiding his fingers in my hair and tasting my lips softly, hungrily. There’s nothing rough about his touch now. Is this the same Daemon who licked my ass last night before ordering me to crawl to him?
He steps back, looking dazed. And if I’m surprised by his gentle kiss, he looks even more confounded. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Just err.. just spread your wings and trust. Let yourself be guided.”
I stare at him unblinkingly while he walks back to the house. I’ve never met a more confusing man. First, he steals me away to the underworld, and now he trusts me not to run away. There must be a catch.
