Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Turning his head, Illium kissed his palm. “The power fuels me, but one thing I understand now,” he said. “I knew Raphael valued his Seven, but after ascension, I truly get the depth of his need for us, for Elena.”
He looked out over the ocean. “An archangel is an island of aloneness in his power—without friendships that endure, without love, that’s where the madness comes. Because the aloneness?” Eyes that glowed locked to Aodhan’s. “It has the capacity to build and build and build until it eats away all light, leaving only darkness in its wake.”
Fear gnawed at Aodhan, for the stark horror of what Illium was describing. And while Aodhan would never understand what it was to be Cadre, a being so removed from angelkind as to be another species altogether, he knew one thing. “I love you.” He kissed Illium with every ounce of the fury of his emotions. “I have loved you all my life in one form or another, and I will love you the rest of my existence in ever more complex and potent ways. But I will always, always, love you. You’ll never be alone.”
Illium’s wings began to glow with the same primal energy as his eyes. “I know,” he whispered, twining his hand around Aodhan’s neck to kiss him with passion slow and sweet as his power thrummed through Aodhan’s bones.
It sang of his Blue. Still his Blue, no matter that he was now archangel of an entire territory. Be that they could, Aodhan would’ve lingered in that kiss, in that moment forever, but when they drew apart, they lifted off without discussion. Because right now and for the foreseeable future, Illium’s territory had to be the priority.
“What will you call yourself as your official archangel name?” he asked once they were in flight.
“My mother suggested Illium, Archangel of Mischief.” A wicked grin. “She also told me not to pick a fight with Aegaeon the Asshole until I’m settled enough to handle it.”
“Eh-ma told me to smack you upside the head should you start to go in the direction of picking a fight.”
Illium’s laughter was wild and delighted. “She’s the most important being in angelic history, you know that?”
Aodhan asked the question with his expression.
Illium lifted up his hand and began ticking things off. “Mother of an archangel. Consort to an archangel even though she refuses the title. Best friend of another archangel. Foster mother to yet one more archangel.”
He lowered his hand. “She sits in the center of countless streams of power, and she handles it all so effortlessly that no one sees how much she holds in her hand. If she called, I would come. Raphael would come. Caliane would come. Titus, of course.”
“She’s the right person to hold all that power.”
“Yes.” Illium dove down, flew back up, his pleasure in flight untrammeled. “As for my name, I don’t know yet. I’ll just be Archangel Illium until I see my territory. Raphael’s first name wasn’t the one he holds now, remember? New York didn’t exist on his ascension. He was Raphael, Archangel Destined. He never used it himself, hated it—but it was how people started referring to him.”
“I’d almost forgotten that.” He and Illium had been so young then, children who’d tagged around behind their patient Rafa.
Now, as they flew on, they talked of the past, laughed over memories, were solemn in thoughts of friends and warrior compatriots lost and energetic in their discussions of those they intended to approach to join their court.
“Because it will be ours, Adi, your voice as important as mine.” A starburst of golden light as Illium threw power up into the air. “Now, let’s go make trouble.”
44
Illium finally got a signal on his device two hours out from his new territory. The call went through without a hitch, Raphael’s face appearing on the screen. “Illium?” A frown. “What is it? A problem?”
The instant protective edge to Raphael’s tone made his heart ache. “Aodhan told me about Vivek’s request,” he got out through the roar of his emotions.
“Ah.” A faint smile. “I wouldn’t lose him, but fact is that most vampires of his strength and expertise would’ve already long flown the nest to experience other territories, other ways of life, if only for temporary periods.
“He’s only stayed this long because, first, it took considerable time for him to heal completely from his spinal injuries, second, he couldn’t find any other court that he both liked and that would encourage him to do the complexity of work he does at the Tower, and third, his intense loyalty to Elena.”
“Elena’s Guard should have someone like that on it,” Illium argued.
“But not at the extent of clipping his wings.” Raphael gave a gentle shake of the head. “Elena has always told Vivek that when he needs to fly, he’s to go. You know her, Illium. She’d never tie Vivek in place when his Making was about freedom.”