EVANGELINE
âWeâre returning to Antaris.â Averyâs voice cut through the nightâs silence like a knife. His eyes, deep with determination, searched Devasâs gaze.
Finally, I thought. Heâd finally realized what Iâd been trying to hammer into him since Timoraxâs fall.
I remembered clearly how I had snatched him from the enemyâs clutches, bleeding, broken, unworthy of his crown. I had to force him to get back up.
I had to remind him that a king was not allowed to show weakness. I even brought his parents from the other side to him.
But now I felt it again, that sparkle in his aura that had seemed to go out in the darkness for so long. But the scars Timorax had left were deep.
They ran through his being like cracks in stone. Time would heal them, but time was a luxury we didnât have.
My sword lay heavily in my hand. It whispered to me in a language I had never learned, but had always understood.
A warning. A reminder.
Evil was close.
My gaze glided over the creatures around us. Demons⦠but I found no malice in their eyes, only a strange, almost human vigilance.
What would await us in Antaris? What kind of creatures were at home there?
Avery had given his orders. The weak ones would be brought here to safety, while Bael stayed here with Ava to protect everyone.
I watched as Bael raised his hands, the air around the camp beginning to shimmer. An invisible barrier was created, blocking out the forest and its dangers.
As long as they remained within this illusion, they were safe. For the rest of us, there was only one way.
A portal would open, a gate into the unknown. The others might not have hesitated, but for me this was an imposition.
My wings tensed with excitement. I wasnât afraid of a portal, but I was afraid of what lay beyond.
I didnât need portals or spells. The spheres obeyed my will.
But trusting unknown beings seemed harder. The only thing I held onto was Devasâs gaze, which kept meeting mine.
As if he could sense the unease in me.
âIris said a witch would open the portal,â I muttered, scrutinizing the dark silhouette of the woman. âShe promised her.â
Devas just nodded, as if he didnât understand why I was saying this. Yet I couldnât understand why Iris trusted her.
The last witches Iâd seen had been burned to death on pyres, their screams still ringing in my ears.
My thoughts were interrupted as the air suddenly split in front of us. A crack in reality, streaked with flickering, yellowish energy.
Iris and Avery were the first to leap through. The others followed.
Warriors, demons once rejected by Avery, all ready to fight for Antaris, all without hesitation. Only Devas remained.
He turned to face me, his eyes searching mine.
âWhat are you afraid of?â he asked, his voice soft yet piercing.
I flinched. He could sense it.
Just like I could feel his emotions, this overwhelming worry radiating from him, as if I was something precious that he couldnât afford to lose.
âIâm not afraid,â I lied.
His smile told me that he knew.
Slowly, he held out his hand, fingers slightly open, a silent invitation. I hesitated, my breath hitching, before I made up my mind.
My fingers touched his and then he suddenly pulled me against him. It was as if an invisible storm front was between us.
The air crackled, charged with tension that took my breath away. Every accidental touch, his hand brushing against mine, his hip pressing against mine as he moved⦠set off a cascade of tiny flashes.
A thousand times gentler than a real blow, yet a thousand times more intense. I couldnât breathe.
Couldnât think. His gaze was burning my skin even before he touched me.
And when he finally did, when his fingers closed around my wrist, a current of electricity so sweet and sharp that I nearly groaned. It was dangerous.
It was irresistible. And he knew it.
I could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his pupils dilated, as if he was fighting every instinct within him. But the attraction between us was stronger than reason.
Stronger than caution. His scent enveloped me, warm and enticing, a mixture of iron and dark wood.
I didnât dare search his face, but I felt the tension in his body as I was pressed so close to him. Every muscle was tense, like he was fighting something.
âLook at me,â he whispered.
It wasnât a request. It was an order.
I raised my eyes. His own eyes were dark, almost black in this light, and I could see itâthe desire that simmered inside him.
Every breath, every movement told me how much he wanted to touch me. And yet he didnât.
He felt it. That something wasnât right.
âDonât worry,â he said before gripping me tighter and yanking us both through the portal.
Antaris welcomed me with a beauty that took my breath away. The air was warm and heavy with the scent of blossoming trees, leaning in gentle arcs over crystal-clear water.
Light fell in golden veils through the canopy, as if the sun was kinder here than anywhere else. But even after two hundred years, after all the battles, all the burned cities and poisoned rivers I had seen, my body remained tense.
Nothing like that existed. Not in this world.
Not in my world.
Avery stood before me on a moss-covered stone terrace, Iris at his side. The people of Antaris had assembled.
Hundreds of them, crowded together, but in breathtaking silence. No unrest. No fear.
Only the trust they showed him when he spoke of Timorax, of the danger that was approaching. They believed him. Every word he said. Without a doubt.
My fingers curled up instinctively. I knew that kind of devotion. It led to mass graves.
But as I swept the crowd, my eyes instinctively searched for weaknesses, for hidden threats. I found nothing, though.
No scowls. No whispered plots.
Just elves with shimmering hair, forest fairies whose wings refracted the light in rainbow colors, and beings I had only read about in yellowing manuscripts.
Antaris was older than I was. I could feel it in every stone, in every root that snaked through the ground.
This place was protected, guarded from all evil, a last secret in a world I had long thought lost. And yet it remained.
My sword remained heavy on my hip. But my shoulders tensed with every smile I received from these strangers.
Avery and Iris left quickly to prepare for the evacuation of the residents, while Devas and I stayed behind. The unease within him was palpable, a swirling storm of questions and unspoken thoughts.
My wings remained hidden, a habit from a time when I had still lived among humans.
But the eyes of the residents burned on my skin. Curious. Astonished.
They had never seen anything like me before.
And they didnât know what I was.
âCome,â Devas hissed.
His voice cut through the murmuring as he noticed more and more heads turning toward me.
âItâs alright... I can handle it,â I replied, but he wasnât listening.
âYeah... But I wonât,â he replied.
His hand closed around mine, tight, almost demanding. âWhat the hell are they staring at you for?â he said, annoyed.
He pulled me after him, his grip firm. The emotions inside him were wild, uncontrollable... not evil, but possessive.
My cheeks burned with the realization. He was jealous.
As he led me through the crowd, Antaris opened before me like a living painting. Everything exuded peace.
But I didnât trust the peace. I had seen war. Betrayals. Deceptions.
My eyes could recognize evil, even if it was hidden behind beautiful masks.
But here... there was nothing here. No hint of rot, no trace of deceit.
Devas stomped angrily through the crowd, which greeted me in a friendly manner. I followed him, unsure if his anger was directed at me or if something deeper was working inside him.
His emotions were a wild mix of anger, worry, and desire.
Then we entered a forest. ~His~ forest.
Unlike the rotten place we had left, this one was alive, pure. The air smelled of earth and moss, wild lavender and, subliminally, of ~him~. Dark, but not menacing.
The trees were thick, their crowns a protective canopy through which only the occasional light filtered.
He led me to a house, hidden among ferns and gnarled roots. The door creaked when he opened it.
âYou can stay here... Iâll just get a few things and get out,â he said suddenly.
Leave? My heart beat faster.
Where was he going? Why was he leaving me alone?
As if heâd read my thoughts, he froze halfway through the movement.
âThis is my house, Angel,â his voice was raspy. âYou can stay here. Itâll take some time to evacuate everyone. Only then will Avery sit down with you to talk about his army...and the defenses of Antaris,â he explained.
I understood. Devas was giving me space. To shield me from their gaze.
So I wouldnât be afraid.
âI thought you wanted some alone time,â he said, slowly turning to me.
âWhy?â I whispered.
His eyes slid over my face before he took a deep breath and stared at the floor.
The tension between us was palpable, an unspoken attraction that he tamed with all his might.
âDo you know who I am... to you?â he asked, his voice barely more than a breath.
The fear of my rejection in him was so great, I could feel it on my own skin. His doubts. His hope.
âNo,â I replied.
I lied. Again.
It had become a habit, something I had learned over the centuries in order to survive. Lying was protection. Silence was security.
But for Devas, the sound of my voice was enough to know that I wasnât telling the truth.
He went silent. The hush between us grew heavy, loaded with everything we didnât say.
Then, slowly, he nodded. He accepted my lie.
But whatever he was thinking at that moment, whatever he believed was going on inside me, he didnât know the truth. He couldnât know it.
I had to control my feelings better. Shut off my thoughts.
Stifle that dull, gnawing desire for him before it consumed me.
I sensed his thoughts like a cold shadow. He interpreted my silence as a rejection. As if Iâd rejected him.
But that was the problem. I didnât want to reject him.
He suddenly raised his head. His eyes narrowed as if he had heard something that I hadnât realized.
Then, without another word, he turned and left.
The door slammed shut behind him.
And I was left here... with my lies, my unsaid truths...
And the nagging certainty that maybe I had just lost him.