Page 97 of Demonic Affliction

I reach out and touch her, needing to feel the warmth of her cheek. “Are you real, angel?”

“I’m real.” Her voice is a weak croak. “I’m here.”

I touch her even more gently, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Why are you crying, angel?”

“Because,” she says. “Because we’re alive.”

Her lips curve in a faint but genuine smile, and all of the tension bleeds out of my shoulders. My brothers crowd around her, maneuvering so all five of us are embracing at once.

Rhune presses his face into her hair, his whole body shaking. Nyx grips her hand and does not let go. Dravik holds us both, his forehead pressed to the crown of her head, whispering her name over and over.

Dagny and her mates come over and join the pile without hesitation, folding themselves in around the edges. Vhalthor lingers at first, watching from a short distance, before he finally steps forward and joins the rest of us.

For a long moment, none of us move. None of us speak. We simply hold her and each other. For now, that is enough.

Willow looks at all of us, a warm, genuine smile lighting her eyes as she says, “Let’s go home.”

33

Willow

We've been back for about a month now. Thirty full cycles of the sun and moon. It still doesn’t feel real to me. I can’t believe we survived.

After the incident in the core, things have been blissfully calm, and there are no indications that it will end anytime soon—though I’ve often caught Dravik with his ear pressed to the ground, listening for the hungered calls of the ice wyrms. Thankfully, there’s been nothing to report, and as the cycles go on without incident, all of us start to relax and settle into our new lives.

With the help of Dagny and her mates, we were able to carve out a nice little space right into the cliffside, overlooking the ocean. It’s a lot smaller than the underground lair my mates lived in previously, but it’s far less claustrophobic than the tunnels, and none of us really mind being close together. Plus, it has access to the largest healing pool I have ever seen, which makes everything so much better.

Dravik and Cin have made several trips back to our old home, and with time, they’ve managed to salvage more than any of us expected. Nyx’s books. Cin’s sculptures. Rhune’s many, many blankets. Miraculously, even some of Dravik’s Welwig sap survived the cave-in. Between what we have saved and what we have created together, this place truly feels like home.

Rhune has turned into the biggest snuggle bug—that is, he’s gotten even more cuddly—and most days, it is hard to get him out of bed. When we’re not snuggling, rolling in the furs, or eating, Rhune likes to take me, Sasu, and Kevin for long walks along the coastline. It’s the perfect place to watch the sun flip to the silver moon, and we’ve shared many passionate kisses under the dazzling moonlight, listening to the waves crash against the shore.

Nyx has taken it upon himself to teach me about this world, mostly by reading to me from the prized, ancient tomes he keeps on his new shelves. Sometimes he’ll quiz me on certain topics regarding demon culture and history—though I’m pretty sure that’s only because he likes rewarding me when I get an answer right.

Dravik and I have taken up gardening together, which made me giggle at first. Watching a massive demon try to handle the delicate flowering plants of The Far Place was truly like watching a pissed-off bull in a china shop. But, with a little patience and a lot of kissing, he’s gotten the hang of it. Now, we have a beautiful collection of stunning, alien-looking flowers adorning our home.

As for Cin…

There has been no sign of the Welwig influence within him since that fateful day in the core. But sometimes I'll catch him looking off into the distance, as if waiting for the outside world to whisper to him and answer his questions. They never do, though.

Cin and I spend our afternoons making art together, tucked into a quiet little cavern deep within the cliffs. Me, with canvas and paints that Cin brings back from the human realm, and him, using his magic to sculpt the dense blocks of ice-rock. I've noticed the usual tension in his shoulders eases when we sit together in silence and create.

“Better to create something than destroy it,” he told me once, when I asked. “My hands remember both options equally well. I would rather they practice this one. Especially now that I have something so very precious to protect.”

When he said that, it made me think of my mom. Did she carry the weight of her destruction with her, even when she returned to a normal life? Did my father carry it, too? Did it make it easier in the end, or harder to let go?

I still have questions about my parents that I might never get answers to. But I do know they loved me until the very bitter end. I know that they sacrificed for me. That will have to be enough for now.

Maybe one day, I’ll find out what world my father came from or meet someone who can tell me more stories about my mother. For now, I’d like to believe their souls found each other in the after, that they are happy, and that maybe, one day, we’ll meet again, and I can introduce them to my four wonderful mates.

A frigid breeze blows in, drawing me out of my pleasant memories back into the present. I tip my head back, breathing in the cool, fresh air.

Perfect…

Another great part of our new home is that I can go outside whenever I want. There’s a path that leads straight up to the top of the cliffs, so even those without wings can enjoy the view. Most days, I like sitting up here, looking out over The Far Place. The landscape is barren, eerily still like a snapshot of a single moment in time. Something about it is eerily beautiful and causes my heart to ache.

It makes me think of the serafyn.

I haven’t heard Spoon’s voice since that fateful day in the core. I can feel the serafyn’s power coursing through my veins, keeping me healthy, keeping me strong… but I can’t wield it in any meaningful way. And honestly, I think that’s for the best.