Warm.
Alek’s body shuddered violently and his knees gave out beneath him. He dropped beside her, his breath turning uneven despite the fact that he did not need air.
He took her hand in his.
She was real.
She was alive.
A strained sound left him, something between a broken laugh and a breath forced through clenched teeth. He bowed his head and pressed his lips to the warm brown skin of her hand. The sensation struck him with such force it bordered on pain.
Alive.
For one suspended moment he forgot the hunt. Forgot the Veil. Forgot his personal vendetta.
The wind shifted.
He lifted his head sharply.
The air above them tore open, the side of the Veil parting as if it were being unzipped.
They were coming.
The relief drained from him as quickly as it had arrived.
Gathering his senses with brutal force, he tightened his hold on her hand. Red mist coiled around them, swallowing them whole and pulling them away from the crater before the sky could fully open.
They reappearedin front of the door to his home. Lanias lay in his arms unmoving. Staring down at her, he couldn’t spot what had changed about her appearance. Were her eyes not as almond shaped as before? Or were her lips a bit wider, the beauty mark was still on her cheek.
He carried her up the front steps, the front doors creaked open with no visible assistance.
Of course, Lanias barely weighed anything in his arms. But the importance of her existence to him was akin to a stone weight that hung around his neck.
Alek would never forget how her eyes burned into his when she’d refused his help.
Reaching his bedroom, he placed her in his bed, clothes and all.
The sight of her amongst his sheets fueled him in a manner he assumed was long dead. He winced jerking his right hand up in time to see the marking on the back of his hand change. The wings moved along his skin and twisted back and forth until the wings turned into vines of thorns and crooked blades, in the center remained the Aramaic lettering.
He looked from it to the woman who slept unaware of the changes taking place.
He quickly left the room, closing the door.
“Dmitri.” He shouted.
His son stepped from the shadows of the hallway, into the silver moonlight that trailed it. “Yes.”
“Where are the others?”
“Sorin went to the Veil to check on his rats, Andrei is currently in North Carolina, one of the organ deals fell through. Mihai—,” he trailed off. “He said he’ll be stopping by after he’s dealt with an issue with a human gang.”
Alek made his way toward the study downstairs. “I don’t know whether to be happy that your brothers have decided to pursue their interest and not baby sit me. Or feel a bit sad for the loss of my children’s presence.”
He removed his jacket, tossing it on the balustrade. The servants would get it in the morning since the manor was usually empty at night. First, he didn’t like too many people in his space, and second, he didn’t want to accidentally eat one of the servants when he entered one of his moods. As of late he’d found himself unnecessarily eager to spill innocent blood.
“Well, you still have me.” His youngest said as he followed him into the study. He walked over to the shelf and grabbeda lighter. Moving over to the row of candles that were situated in places around the room, to give it some light. “I told them I would keep an eye on you.”
Alek smirked at that, “Your brothers think I am easier on you because you look like your mother.”
