Page 7 of Light

Gabriel didn't look back as he stepped into the hall, leaving Dina's Naphil to whatever enjoyment he found while Dina was away.

Chapter 7

Gabriel

Gabriel dropped beside his sister, crossing his arms over his chest. From high on this rocky peak, it was easy to take in the beauty of their Father’s might, overlooking the petty squabbles of humans who sought to paint the land in death and despair.

A thunderous boom rent the air, disturbing its peace. It was followed by three more; shouts and screams became a wailing cacophony, destroying the sense of calm.

“Aaron misses you,” Gabriel said into the moment of silence as Dina paused time.

Her swirling opalescent eyes fell on him, a soft smile forming at the edges of her mouth. “As I do him. Have you come to aid me?”

He shook his head. “I have found Sanura.”

Dina started, the moment in time rupturing as she turned to face him. Over the sounds of metal clashing and cannon booms, she said, “Have you told Uriel?”

“It’s too soon for him to be parted from his analogous umbra. I’ve come for your help.”

Dina frowned. “My hands are quite full here.” She waved a hand toward the battle raging below.

“We change the world when we rid it of her. No more nasdaqu-ush. Think of it, Dina.”

Dina was silent, watching as one ship sank beneath the waves and another glided forward, taking its place.

There were no demons present, only humans battling for power and dominance. Dina could do nothing for them, and she knew it. He could tell by the set of her jaw as she watched them kill one another.

“Tonight,” she said, not looking at him. “I assume you have a plan.”

“Thank you.”

She glanced down at his fingers resting on her bare skin. “I would do anything for you, brother.”

Chapter 8

Adalaide

Adalaide sat up, wiping crusted drool from her cheek. The room was bright—mid-day sun refracting off a floor-length mirror in the corner, streaking warm yellow light over her bed.

She groaned, pulling at the pins stabbing her skull, and freed her dark locks. She rubbed her fingers through her scalp, massaging the tender places. Sleeping with her hair pinned up had been a bad idea.

A sharp pain digging into her hip reminded her she’d also slept in her corset. It was a testament to just how drained she’d been that she hadn’t fought the torturous contraption to remove it before passing out.

Shoes pinched her bound toes as she slid out of bed, and she groaned again. It was bad enough she had to bind herself in them all day, but to sleep the entire night in them was abuse.

She bent down, untying the lace of her boots and slipped stockinged feet free, sighing. She lifted her skirts, finding the edge of her stockings, and rolled them down.

On bare feet, she padded out of the room and up the stairs to the third floor, slipping inside her room. It was imperative she call on Arthur to replace her door before night, and she would need to retrieve the leather journal she’d dropped on the roof, but for the moment, she could take comfort in the freeing sensation of being unbound.

Undoing the buttons on her blouse, she pulled it loose and made quick work of unlacing the corset, which had been specially designed to get in and out of without the trouble of a maid.

She slid them off, laying them over a vanity table in the room's corner, and shimmied out of her skirts. When she was free of all her clothing, she dropped onto her bed and sighed contentedly.

It was unheard of for a lady of her standing to go about naked as a newborn, but feeling the rush of air that ran over pebbling skin—telling her stories of the day—was her favorite state of being.

It was a secret the good people of London would be truly scandalized by, but Adalaide Graves often slept in the nude.

She lay for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, stretching her long limbs like a cat. Each toe spread wide, and her fingers splayed overhead as she watched sunlight filtering over bare skin. Its warmth heated the ember in her chest, refilling some of the energy she’d drained the night before.

---