Page 77 of Touched By Death

“What do you mean?”

A small shrug. “I used to fight, you know? Now I’m… I’m scared.” I chance a look at him. “I’m weak.”

“You’re not weak,” he says with conviction, placing his hand on my arm and squeezing gently. “You could never be weak.”

“I don’t remember much from my time in the shadows, but I remember him and how he hurt me.”

A snarl rumbles low in his throat, but it cuts off just as quickly. Cupping my cheeks, he brings my eyes to his, the cool breeze moving through his dark hair. “He won’t hurt you again.”

“Take me back to Daemon, please.”

His fingers flex on my cheeks. He looks at me for a long moment, his dark, unreadable eyes flicking between mine before he scoops me up and shoots up into the sky with lethal grace and power.

* * *

Seated on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace, I don’t bother to look behind me when the sound of footsteps disrupts the silence. “Where’s Daemon?” I ask.

“Out looking for you,” Dmitriy replies, coming to a stop at my back. “They all are.”

I prop my chin on my knees and wrap my arms around my shins. “How long was I gone for?”

Lowering himself down beside me, one leg stretched out, one bent, he rests back on his hand and lets the other dangle over his knee. “Long enough.”

I look at him, studying the way the firelight flickers over his face. “You don’t want to tell me.”

“I don’t think it matters. One day. A year. Your harem is going crazy without you.”

A weak smile plays at the corners of my lips. I’ve had a shower and changed into a clean dress. Strands of my still-wet hair tickle my cheek with my next exhale. “And what about you?”

He slides his gaze away from the fire to look at me. When he doesn’t reply, I shrug one shoulder.

“Have you been going crazy?”

His brown eyes sweep over my face before he brings his hand up to his mouth to hide his smile. He rubs the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “Is it Aurelia or Genesis asking that question?”

My smile grows impossibly wide. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” Dropping his hand from his mouth, he reaches out to tuck my hair behind my ear. “It matters a lot.”

Breath caught in my throat, I stay silent while his fingers linger on the sensitive spot below my ear.

“They’ll be back soon. You better prepare yourself. Daemon is on the warpath. In all my years, I’ve never seen him this worked up.”

While I appreciate that he saves me from answering, a small part of me wants him to elaborate on why it matters. The question tickles my lips, demanding to be asked. I swallow it back down and look back at the flames. His gaze burns the side of my face until I can barely breathe.

“What happened to you?”

Like a bucket of ice water, his words splash over me. I flinch, turning away from him. When his fingers reach for me, I physically recoil, remembering the stalker’s touch. “Don’t.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t touch you again.”

With my back to him, gaze lowered to the floor, I ask him the question that’s been on my lips since my return. “Why can’t I conjure hellfire?”

“Lucifer, he… he fed a vial of potion to Genesis. Your powers are dormant for a few days.”

“I know about the vial. The stalker, he… He made me drink it, too. But the light…” I drift off, remembering the beam of light on my hand that chased away the shadows and how Amenadiel explored it with his fingers.

“What about the light?” Dmitriy shifts closer, the heat of his breath wafting over my exposed shoulder.

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