The metal heats again, the padlock reforming as a pleasantcurrent of warmth runs from the bottoms of my palms to my fingertips. Only when the gate glows golden again do I let go.
I don’t know how long it will hold. I don’t even have a good guess. But the estate wants me to succeed; I can sense that. There’s a near-sentience to the way the magic dances along my skin, almost like the magic is welcoming me home.
Eyes burning with tears I refuse to let fall, I spin to face the guards.
They’re bowing.Shit.My cheeks heat. Their rigid sign of respect makes me uncomfortable. I’ve been gone too long and seen too much to return to the customs I grew up with. “Please don’t,” I beg. “Take me to Malach.”
They jump into action, and I follow them, ignoring everything but the path directly in front of me. There’s no point looking right or left. I’m not here to stay, but my anger is. The flames burn bright, a visceral reminder that I should avoid leaning on anything.
I step through the front door, and memories hit me harder than a punch to the face. Cartilage giving way, blood spurting from both nostrils, swelling eyes, ruptured capillaries—the whole nine yards. A haymaker would hurt less.
I’m haunted by this house, by everything it bore witness to over the years. I see her face everywhere—phantom pain shaped as the first person I failed to protect.
Then, from the corner of my eye, I see it. Chest heaving, skin crawling, I grind to a halt. He hung her painting inside the door. My flames light her face with a warm, orange glow. The fake smile is frozen on her lips—the one that never reached her eyes.
How dare he trap her here for eternity? Wasn’t killing her enough?My fingers spasm as I imagine them around his neck.
It’s one lie too many.
A primal sound escapes me, and I rip the painting off the wall, dropping it like it burned me, even though I’m the one on fire.
My next breath catches in a hiccup. I stumble backward. Everyone stares at me. The guards, Lyklan, Riven... they watch me like I’m a wild animal backed into a corner.
Calm down. Wall it off.
Bile bubbles up in my throat.
I swallow it, eyes fluttering shut as I stuff the memories back into the vault and shove against the mental door with all my might. This can’t destroy me. I didn’t let it then, and I won’t let it now.
I’m here for Malach. That’s all.
It’s too late for her.It always was, wasn’t it?
The vault locks with a click, and I roll my shoulders back. “My apologies,” I say in the common tongue, pleased when my voice comes out normally. “Let’s keep going.”
No one argues, and I follow them, my face twisting as Lyklan leads me downstairs.
This part of the house used to be for storage, but my father has clearly made changes. The walls are painted stark white, and the lights are blinding. I wince. There’s evil here—something sinister. My wings morph into flaming blades.
The guardians stop in front of a closed door, and my right wing twitches involuntarily, leaving a deep, singed gouge in the white wall. The screech is terrible, but I barely hear it. I’m too focused on the closed door.
“I don’t have access,” the first guardian admits, eyeing me nervously.
Lyklan steps forward to try the handle, but I’m done waiting.
Lifting my knee to my chest, I drive my foot into the door with every drop of pent-up rage in my body. It splinters, golden magic erupting from the place where my foot made contact.What the fuck?I’ve never added anything extra to my strengthbefore. Was that me by myself, or is the house trying to help me?
It doesn’t matter, because I can see inside now.
My stomach rolls. It’s worse than I feared.
Shackled to a hook in the ceiling, Malach hangs, with his toes barely grazing the floor. There’s blood everywhere, splatter covering every inch of the white room. And that’s not the worst part. Drawn by terror and dread, my gaze lands on the floor... where Malach’s wings lie crumpled and broken in a pool of congealed blood.
My stomach rebels, and I gag—holding in the contents of my stomach out of sheer necessity. Lyklan isn’t as lucky. He bends at the waist and vomits, the sound echoing around the enclosed space.
I ignore him. My eyes are already glued to my worst nightmare.
Malach. My Malach. Mutilated and left for dead.
