And how soon we may see them again.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Ophelia
I was off balance.That pressure settled against my back, and every part of my body was tearing.
In the wash of Angellight, I’d seen a glimpse of Vale’s reading. Only the first one, but Annellius had known. He had figured out all of this, what lurked in the mountains, and Damien had…
Damien had…
I gasped, trying to see through the pain still burning along my muscles—through the weight dragging me down.
“By the fucking Angels,” Tol rasped.
“Are y-you,” I stuttered, “okay?”
“I’mfine, Alabath.” His voice was still stoic, though. He shifted his arms around me, and my body was racked with an agonizing shudder.
Angellight blared through the cavern, rushing like a wind so loud, I couldn’t hear what anyone beyond him was saying. Could only see my friends’ astounded faces as their eyes darted between me and the Angels. As Santorina and the fae stared each other down and the Engrossians huddled around Dax. As Jezebel and Erista guarded Lyria’s body, still prone and bathedin the light of the Angels. As Vale was slammed with reading after reading, her eyes silvered, and Cypherion braced her.
As Malakai rose on the stairs, his eyes locked on mine, his hand clutching his hollow Bind.
My own thudded with what might have been shock.
But I couldn’t try to figure it out. Because over the center of the room, the seven gold outlines solidified into bodies and wings and limbs. The Angels hovered above us.
They’d been so similar to Bant’s spirit when it was released from Kakias.And disappeared into the mountains. The other six spirits had been encased within the stone. Bant’s joined them upon the death of its shell, and when we set them free, we unlocked their bodily forms, as well.
The Angels swelled, and I was so small beneath them. So defenseless. I needed a weapon, needed?—
Starfire and Angelborn were gone. The ache went through me, deep to my bones. I tried to shake it off, and another painful shudder wracked my body.
“Ophelia,” Tolek said, frantic, as if he’d been repeating my name and I only just heard.
When I angled my head up to look at him, something brushed my arm and?—
“Holyfucking Angels,” I gasped.
It wasn’t a muscular ache along my back. It was a pair of glorious wings drooping along the dusty cavern floor. As white as Sapphire’s downy feathers, threaded with gold and shimmering.
Wings.
I had wings.
I tried to move them—to ensure they were real and truly attached to me—but I could barely manage a flutter, and even that sent a tearing pain through my body.
Something sticky dripped down my spine. Reaching back—careful to move as little as possible—I swept my fingertips through it. When I brought them forward, my vision swimming, they gleamed crimson.
Blood. The emergence of wings had made me bleed. There was an irony in there that my mind couldn’t untangle in its frazzled state.
I was a warrior. Not an Angel. I didn’t want to be anything but a warrior—my entire life it had been my dream, my cause.
“Damien,” I gasped. Every shred of my body hurt to turn, trying to find a new equilibrium. Tolek held me upright, but even his arm at my waist was painful as it jostled my wings. I didn’t know how to move the damn things out of the way.
But I sought out the Angel who had visited me time and again. And?—
“Holy fucking Angels,” I breathed again. I’d thought Damien was awash with almighty power before, but now he was an image of pure legend.
