The sound of her name on his lips elicited a flutter in her stomach. He rarely said it, rendering each moment he did memorable. The way he looked at her now, the softness of his voice, reminded her of what he’d said at the fjord. He believed in her even when she didn’t.
“What did you say to me at the fjord?” she asked. “What does it mean?”
Ett haor sheli.The words slid across her mind like a veil gliding across her skin.
Cassiel shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“I have truly forgotten.”
She glowered, not believing him in the least. “Have you taken to calling me stupid human in your language now?”
He smirked. “If I were, I would call youhaddam lonavon. Unwise human.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “And how do you say Celestial?”
“There was no word for Celestial when the Seraphim fell. If there is one now, we do not know it.”
Cassiel crossed his arms, and her eyes fell over the sharp, elegant lines of his new form-fitting black jacket. Without his wings, he passed as human, if one wasn’t looking too closely at his unearthly beauty and luminance. Enchanted clothing was a manner of safety, but he had refused to trade for it.
“What would happen if they caught you trading your feathers?” she asked quietly, making sure no one was around to listen. The tables had momentarily cleared.
“The same that would occur if my father learned I had given my blood,” he said, matching her volume. “It would mean my exile, without question.”
“How is Celestial exiled?”
“The wings are shorn. Then the High King compels them to forget. He erases the memories of their past and replaces them with new ones as a precaution, as not to lead humans to the Realms.”
That stunned Dyna into momentary silence. She’d known the removal of the wings was part of it, but the revelation that his father could alter their memories left her a little startled.
She recalled King Yoel’s threat to Prince Malakel in the dining hall.I will have you exiled with the removal of your wings. Then you will resemble the very humans you loathe so much.
He would to do that to his sons?
“I didn’t know your father had that ability,” she said, shifting nervously in her seat. If he so wished, King Yoel could have made her forget ever meeting Cassiel. Fortunately, he’d allowed her immunity.
“Compelling minds is one of a few powers he has,” Cassiel said. “The abilities of the High King are passed on to the heir once they ascend to the throne.”
Her eyes widened. Cassiel may have that power one day.
“Exile is a severe sentence in the Four Realms,” he said, looking at the evening sky. “Not only would an exiled Celestial never fly again, the source of their power is lost. Without our wings, our blood loses its ability to heal, and we become mortals.”
“Why did you risk that for me?”
“You were bleeding to death. I couldn’t leave you to die.” He sighed, seeing the conflict on her face. “The only way I could save you was with my blood. But I had never used it to heal someone before. Without thinking, I cut my palms and placed them on your wounds, inadvertently...”
Warmth flushed her skin. “Creating the bond.”
Cassiel nodded, fidgeting with a cuff on his sleeve. “When my kind began the trades with humans before The Decimation, they only sold their blood in vials. Never directly through contact. Giving blood is one thing, and another thing entirely to exchange it with another. It is a sacred act reserved only for when a Celestial has found a mate.”
The nervous flutter in her stomach moved to her chest.
“One must choose carefully, for it is permanent and can never be undone.” Cassiel traced the grooves on the wooden table, and she wondered if he was thinking of the Druid. He’d said he wanted to ask if there was a way to break the bond.
“Has anyone regretted bonding with another before?”
“It has happened more times than you would imagine.” He traced the silver embellishments of his sleeve. “The bond merely binds your souls, not your heart. If it could forge love, I imagine many like my father would be much happier.”
