“Twenty-four? Twenty-four fucking hours!” No. No. That couldn’t be. My chest tightened, panic rising inside me. Wedidn’t have that kind of time. I had to leave. I had to get out of here, find my way north.
“Lyriana!” Auriel yelled.
But I rushed past him to the table that stored my things, grabbing them in a blind rage. I felt farther than fucking Lethea, barely able to see straight I was so mad. I started to fasten my belt around my waist, attaching Rhyan’s scabbard. I retrieved my blade next, shoving it through my belt. And bent down to lace up my boots, dizziness washing over me. But I didn’t care. I had to be ready.
“By the fucking realms!” Auriel shouted. “What are you doing now?”
“Leaving! Twenty-four hours! Do you know what Rhyan could have done by now? What he could be doing at this very moment—if I’m not there to stop him?”
“I do know! And you won’t stop him! Not like this.”
“Go to hell!”
He laughed bitterly. “Don’t worry. I already feel like I’m there!” he roared.
“If you really want to be sure, try crossing dimensions again. You’ve broken every other rule so far. I’m sure you’ll reach hell soon enough.”
“You think I can just cross dimensions?” he scoffed. “That because I’m a God, traveling between worlds and timelines is just something I can do? I haven’t been mortal for a thousand years. And by the laws of the Council I shouldn’t even be here now, but I am.”
“So go then. Go back home.”
“I can’t!”
“You won’t!”
Auriel reached for my shoulders, shaking me, but I twisted out of his hold.
“Stop touching me!” I said. “Just stop! I don’t need your help!”
Auriel exhaled, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling, his shoulders slumping. When he looked at me again, defeat was threaded through his expression as clearly as if he’d raised a white flag. And again the aura that came from him felt like a cloud descending, heavy and foggy, and confused. But above all, mortal. And weak.
“I might not be able to travel like Rhyan,” he said, “but I can still help you. Still fight beside you. Protect you.”
I scoffed. “I’ll protect myself.”
“I thought we were past this,” he said quietly, and shook his head. Then his gaze shifted to the scabbard at my waist and his face softened. “Silver gryphon wings. Golden sun.” There was something almost like defeat in his voice. “That’s it isn’t it?”
My hand moved protectively around the leather casing, my fingers tightening around it.
“The sigil of Ka Hart.Hissigil.” Auriel let out a shaky breath, taking a stumbling step backward. It was like he was retreating. Surrendering. “You’re angry with me,” he said softly, “not for anything I’ve done. But because I’m not him. That’s what this is about. I’m not Rhyan. And you can’t forgive me for it.”
I could hear my heart pounding, like a drum in my ears, the backs of my eyes burning. “No,” I seethed. “That’s not it.”
Auriel’s face fell. He pressed his hand over his heart. “Yes it is. And you won’t admit it—not even to yourself.” His jaw tightened. “So be it. I’m sorry—if that’s what you need to hear. I’m sorry I can’t be him for you. I’m sorry my name’s not Rhyan. I’m sorry I wasn’t born in this timeline. Or born into the North. I’m sorry that it’s not me who’s your lover. Your partner.”
“Stop it,” I screamed, the panic rising inside of me again, like a nahashim twisting through my insides, squeezing around my heart, my lungs.
“You can’t keep punishing me for something that’s not my fault. And you can’t keep punishing your?—”
“I’m not punishing?—”
“Yes, you are. That’s why you got hurt?—”
“I was fighting to survive,” I cried. “Fighting for you!”
“And you’re a better fighter than that. I would know. I’ve watched over you in this life. And I’ve trained and fought beside your soul myself. Fought beside you for centuries. And I saw—saw the moment it happened. The moment you were stabbed. You didn’t see, but I knew something was wrong. And this,” he pointed at me, “isn’t you. You didn’t want to rest, or heal, even with a damn hole in your arm …” He shook his head, his eyes distant. “Fucking hell. There’s more. You’re blaming yourself for what happened to him. Aren’t you? Trying to suffer in return? Even the score?”
“Shut. Up.” A sense of dread washed through me.
