Page 116 of Dark Awakening

In response, I give a tight nod, my throat suddenly feeling too constricted and raw to force any words past. I avoid meeting their searching gazes for long, turning my back to pour myself a generous glass of amber liquor with a slightly unsteady hand.

I toss the drink back in one harsh, burning swallow before finally managing to rasp in a rough whisper, "She's asleep now. Just needs time to rest and heal." But whether that precious healing can fully mend the deepest wounds inflicted on her tender soul remains to be seen.

Lucian shakes his head slowly, looking genuinely disturbed beneath his casual air. "Jesus Christ, what in the actual fuck is Azrael playing at here, Rhyland?" he says, clearly still trying to process the magnitude of recent dark revelations. "I mean, I knew that sadistic creep had shady underworld connections but never thought he'd be stupid enough to conspire with goddamn werewolves of all depraved monsters openly!"

Lucian's look of shock mirrors my own disbelief. This whole fucked up situation is spinning out of control, way past the kind of shitstorm I'd braced for. Azrael's twisted craving to claim Danica is deeper and darker than any of us saw coming—if that sick fuck is willing to stoop this low and ruthlessly break her spirit to drag her back under his thumb.

Just thinking about what kind of sick, twisted thoughts are running through Azrael's head to play along with such a fucked-up plan is enough to make me want to vomit. Marcus must've been holding some serious shit over Azrael's head, some tantalizing bait that’s got him by the balls, pushing him to gamble with this sort of batshit crazy scheme.

But what possible secrets could lay between them, casting such a long, intimate shadow over past and present? And how the hell can I possibly hope to protect my angel from Azrael's twisted machinations and depraved whims now that we know the shocking depths of his interest in her?

"We'll need to conceal and guard Danica at all costs going forward," I insist darkly. "Leave no room for mistakes or lapses in security. If Azrael manages to get his hands on her again, the outcome would be nothing short of catastrophic." Adrian and Lucian nod somberly in grim agreement, fully grasping the severity of our current threat.

After a heavy beat of contemplative silence, Adrian suggests slowly, as if carefully testing a theory aloud, "A powerful cloaking spell could aid greatly in hiding Danica's location from any unwelcome prying eyes or divination techniques."

"It would be a reasonable start, at least," I reply after considering it momentarily. Danica's safety and anonymity must now take paramount priority over all else, and we'll need every possible magical advantage and ally we can muster for the inevitable confrontation looming ahead.

Erik has remained uncharacteristically silent up until this point, his piercing, almost colorless gaze boring into me relentlessly from across the room. Even without utilizing words, my oldest friend and ally has a singular gift for forcing ugly, brutal truths to be confronted head-on rather than avoided. And I can tell by the weight of his stare that he's silently imploring me to voice the dark question haunting our thoughts, though no one has yet found the courage to voice it.

"Rhyland, based on your gifts and your bond with Danica..." Erik begins gravely, never one to shy away from ripping off the bandage, no matter how much it may sting. "What do you believe they truly did to her when she was held captive? How badly do you think she's suffered?"

I instantly close my eyes against the vivid horrors that have been cycling through my imagination since I first felt Danica frantically reaching out to me in stark terror through our mental bond. During my darkest moments of doubt and helplessness, gruesome images of the violation and pain she endured play out like an endless nightmare behind my tightly shuttered lids.

It was a devastating slideshow of all that may have been inflicted upon her delicate flesh and fragile psyche while I was trapped, utterly useless, unable to prevent her anguish or even bear faithful witness. I want nothing more in this world than to bury my head in the sand and forget this evil was ever allowed to befall someone so wondrous and precious.

But I know with sinking dread that sooner or later, I will need to find the strength to face even the most devastating possibilities head-on if I ever hope to truly aid Danica through the healing of her deepest wounds. The task threatens to overwhelm me.

Sensing the violent storm churning just below the surface of my brooding silence, Lucian wordlessly reaches out to gently take my empty glass from my clenched white-knuckled grip. He refills it near the brim with care and precision, taking great pains not to spill even a precious drop of liquor. He silently slides the tumbler back across the glossy counter to me without a word, though his eyes convey deep empathy.

I give him a grim nod of appreciation before bringing the drink to my lips and tossing it back smoothly, embracing the heady rush and comforting burn. Anything to briefly distract from the gruesome slideshow still flashing behind my closed eyelids.

Lucian leans intently across the counter toward me with my eyes still downturned. When he speaks again after a weighty pause, his usually teasing tone has shifted to one of unfamiliar gentleness and sincerity. "Rhyland, look at me, brother," he implores.

I slowly gaze to meet his, surprised by the profound compassion and concern radiating from his soft brown eyes as he searches my face. "Dani has a will of pure iron and the defiant, fiery spirit of a warrior goddess. She endured this trial and will find a way back to herself again, even if the path proves long. Have faith in her formidable strength, as I know you always have."

His quietly fierce words spark renewed hope, helping reignite my resolve. Lucian speaks wisdom. Danica has always possessed an extraordinary fortitude of both body and mind. I must find the strength to trust in her resilience now when she will need my faith more than ever before.

Slamming my empty glass back to the counter with sudden conviction, I turn my gaze firmly and expectantly to Adrian, telegraphing my urgent need. "I want you to layer the strongest wards and protective runes possible over every entrance and threshold inside and surrounding this place," I state, brooking no room for debate.

Adrian meets my stare and nods once in immediate understanding.

Left to the quiet solitude that I've been craving, my mind rebounds with thoughts that I alone can sift through. My legs, as if bewitched to her very presence, find their way back towards the lavish master bedroom and to Dani — the most treasured of burdens, resting in the sanctity of our bed.

The hint of lavender catches me, drawing me towards the partially ajar door of the bathroom. Strands of scented mist seep into the bedroom air. I find her there, outlined by the veil of steam, her small frame halted beneath the cascade of the shower. She's motionless, head bowed against the cool tile, lost in the warmth that envelops her.

I slip into the room, a ghost on the prowl, silent steps perfected over countless years of stalking the night's hidden games.

Quickly stripping off my remaining grimy, bloodstained clothes, I step into the spacious enclosure behind her, steam cloaking us in an intimately warm, scented cocoon.

I gently encircle her slender waist with my arms, and she immediately turns into my embrace, fresh tears mingling with the hot water as she presses her face tightly to my chest.

I smooth back her soaked hair, tilting her chin up so she can finally meet my concerned gaze. "Talk to me, Angel. Let me help carry this heavy burden with you," I implore softly.

But she shakes her head mutely, still refusing to give voice to the dark memories even now seeking to drag her back down into their swirling, inky depths.

"Not yet. I can't," she finally whispers raggedly. "Please, Rhyland, for now…I just… need you."

Her plea slices me to the core. I want nothing more than to spirit her away, to distract and soothe her any way I can. But no pretty words exist that can simply erase trauma or bypass the hard road of healing ahead. Still, I can provide patience without judgment and surround her with steadfast love through every struggle still to come. For now, that will have to be enough.

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