“Go die, you worthless fuck!” I screamed, flashing him my middle finger with my free hand and demanding my magic take us back to Altair’s cottage. Talon tried to lift himself up in time, but the shadows were already swimming around us. At Talon’s feet, one of the larger elite’s removed their mask, revealing Caleb Dofrel’s stunned face staring at Altair’s unconscious and unrecognizable form.
The last thing I saw was Dofrel mouthing the nameAzbefore the gloomy and bloody scene of the shops center became the snow-painted cliff edge Altair now called home.
Chapter Eight
Azazel
“Mother doesn’t sing me to sleep anymore. That was the only time I ever felt like she loved me. I miss it.”
-From the journal of Azazel Altair, 9217 AS
Iawoke to the feel of Mother’s hand on my cheek as I lay on my stomach. She so rarely offered me affection, it was startling to have it then. She didn’t sing, nor did she speak. My body hurt terribly, my head a pounding drum. Had Father beaten me? Was I in my room?
Daring to open my eyes, I was met not with my mother’s pale face and severe frown, but Nova Tershetta’s thick curls and her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Her eyes were pinched closed, magic flooding my body. I could feel the steady healing, though it was slow and not nearly as strong as what a medic could do.
I wasn’t at Castle Altair. I was in my cottage.
I should tell her I’m awake. I should say something. I should move.
I watched her instead. Her lashes were thick, fanning down on her raised cheeks, one of which was bloody and bruising. Though her hand was cold, there was a clammy feel to it as her palm pressed into my cheek. Something far more damp andmushy lay beneath her other hand, which pressed into my back where Talon hadstabbedme.
Yes, that was what had happened. Tershetta had tried to shadow walk to her district, likely to seek revenge against the person who killed her parents—not just any person, ithadto have been Talon.
My breath began to keep time with hers, the feel of her magnetic, my mind racing to keep up.
“I know you’re awake, Altair. You’re a terrible actor.” Her voice was smooth, undeterred as she pressed her hands more firmly into me. The magic scorched against my skin, a tiny bead of sweat dripping down the side of her face. It crawled slowly. Steadily. I wanted to wipe it away. I wanted to touch her. I wanted—
“Okay, this is no use.” She released her hold on me, wiping her sweaty hands on her shirt. My eyes followed the movement. That wasn’t her shirt, it wasmine.
That looks good on her.
It’d look great off of her.
“Don’t panic, okay?” Her eyes opened then, and I watched in barely contained desire as she grabbed a large green leaf and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed without breaking eye contact with me, though I was certain she wasn’t thinking the same things I was.
Then, with little grace and even less care, Tershetta spit the sticky glob of green into her hand, turned towards my back, and smacked the leaf onto my wound.
A hiss of pain slipped past my lips, and I wondered if they were my own again. Because I was clearly deranged, I couldn’t help but recall the way she had ordered me to look at her. To see every minute detail. She’d willingly gripped my neck and pulled me closer. How she’d—
Stars above, I’m fucking hard.
“These are plantain leaves. They’ll help with excreting infection, but with my limited healing abilities and the severity of the wound, I’ll need to stitch you.”
“Stitch me? What does that mean?” I tried to turn my head farther to see her face fully, but I feared my cock would say hello too.
“It’s incredible how little you learn when your life is full of magic and privilege.”
“Ah, yes, I should try to be more like you. The brilliant and talented Tershetta, who puts both of our lives at risk for—what was it again? Oh, that’s right. Revenge. Very smart of you.”
One of her fingers pressed into my wound, forcing another yelp out of me. “Sorry, you know us stupideadiwomen.”
Grunting, I tried to relax beneath the weight of her ire, wishing I could go back to the moments before she realized I was awake.
“Shaytan.” It wasn’t an intentional correction. Not something I meant to say. It was more like a fleeting thought. An unshakable truth. A fact that slipped out of my mouth while I focused on not being pissed off.
Tershetta’s hands stilled, her face slowly leaning back into my direct line of sight. Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them before, more round than their normal almond shape. Her cheeks were becoming a violent red, her hair wild around her.
I couldn’t help it. Like always, I did something stupid in her presence. My hand lifted, fingers grazing her cheek where it had been split. She flinched back, but I left my hand in the air, waiting to see if she’d come back to me.
