He gave me a meaningful look.
“Oh, yes.” I shivered in delight at the thought. “I very much do.”
Azazel’s brow smoothed. “Give me some time to think on this, Melisande. If you can wield the Sword of Light, that changes a few things. But you’ve fallen.”
“You might not be able to wield it now.” Lucifer scowled. “I won’t risk you being burned alive to test a theory.”
“I maintain that it’s possible, but you said it yourself,” I pointed out. “‘Or we need its polar opposite’. Who could create an inverse of the Sword of Light?”
Azazel stared into space for a long moment. “I might have an idea. Give me some time to research. For now, take your Nephilim home, make up for lost time.”
“Azazel…”
He leaned in and cupped my face, then kissed me. In front of everyone.
I didn’t care in the slightest. I melted into the kiss, tasting mint and magic, the softness of his tongue running over my lips.
An eternity could’ve passed and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Azazel broke away first, his pupils expanding to eat up the violet irises. “You should go. I’m still… the void is still there. Still calling.”
I touched his cheek, stroking the sharp line of his jaw, smoothing back a black curl. “When you’re ready, I’m here,” I said. I stared into his eyes, forcing myself to look into that abyss, expecting to see emptiness.
All I saw was Azazel.
He swallowed hard and turned away, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.
“We should go,” Lucifer said. “It might take some time before he can control it.”
I touched Azazel’s face one last time, and rose to go, dragging Tascius with me.
The Nephilim looked after the Watcher, concern on his face, but he let me drag him out into the cathedral. “What have you done to him, Morningstar?”
Lucifer glanced at Tascius, but the looks he gave him were no longer glacially cold. “It’s more like, what did he do to himself. He’s missing half his soul and he’s kept the void under control until now. It’ll take time for him to learn how to handle letting it out.”
“He’s doing it for me,” I said quietly. “If he wants to mark me as his, I think part of myself will spill over and fill the void.”
Tascius picked me up, hugging me tight, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“If anyone can make it happen, you can,” he growled in my ear.
Lucifer paused on the edge of the balcony, waiting for Tascius to put me down.
The Nephilim gazed over the edge, a hard look in his eyes. I stroked his back, not trying to touch his scars, but not avoiding them, either. That wide-open drop was his birthright, the same as mine, and I knew that he felt like a bird without wings.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered. Lucifer took his hand, and I took the other and tried to smile up at him encouragingly.
All of Tascius’s good cheer had faltered at the sight of the drop and the reminder of what he’d lost.
We stepped off the edge together.
“I’m of no use to you,” he said, dropping his head in his hands.
Tascius was sprawled across my bed. Vyra hadn’t looked surprised at the sight of him loping into the Nightside arena, given that Blind Luck had arrived earlier and given her the news before disappearing into Lady Savage’s chambers.
“Don’t you dare say that.” I locked the door, then climbed on the bed and crawled over him to straddle his lap. He let me pull his hands away and force him to look up. “I don’t care what your use is. Just having you is a privilege, and I don’t know what I did to deserve it.”
He traced my cheek down to the edges of my lips. “You saw what Yraceli was like. That should be me. Without my wings, I’m crippled, only half the Nephilim I should be.” His thumb lingered on my chin. “I can’t keep up with you in what should be our native element. I can’t protect you if a prince comes for you.”
I grabbed his hands and laced our fingers together.
“Friends are honest,” I said, resting my forehead against his. “I don’t care if you’re not invulnerable like she was. I’m vulnerable, Tascius. I’m not like the princes, either. And if you’re going to mope on the first night we’ve had together in weeks, I swear I’m going to drag you right down to that arena and beat on you until you’re smiling again.”
He did actually smile at that, some of his sadness melting away. “Is that what it takes to put me in a good mood?”
“I’m hoping just the threat of it works.”
“Well, you’re right,” he said, laying back and pulling me with him. “It does. It’s been many, many years since I’ve been to Blackchapel, and I hate it just as much now as I did then.”
Of course a little Nephilim with his wings sawed off would hate a floating cathedral. He would’ve been a prisoner, trapped by his own mutilation.
“Then we make our home on the ground.” I stroked the strong bridge of his nose. “And I promise I will find a way to get your wings back.”
He shook his head, running his fingers through my hair. I rested my cheek on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. “I don’t give a damn about my wings, Melisande. Not as long as I’m with you.”
I just nodded, letting him hide all his yearning and regret. He did give a damn, and so did I.
And I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep.
“Really.” He made me look up at him. “It doesn’t matter. The only thing I care about is that we’re together again.”
“Me, too,” I said, and kissed him.
The heat of a long-denied touch stirred to life inside me. He was the first one I’d chosen, the first one I’d entrusted my life and secrets to.
Without consciously thinking about it, I
