Page 114 of Inflamed By an Incubus

His voice broke on that last word and he swiped his glasses off his face and palmed his eyes as he dropped his head, and Evelyn’s heart went out to him. She could only imagine how terrifying it must have been for him to see his family killed and his sister abused like that, let alone what had come afterwards.

“I didn’t know,” Rosalind muttered in a low voice and looked up at her mate. “Normally they just transform… awake… on their ninth birthday or some crap like it.”

The heart that had been going out to him hurt a little more for him upon hearing that. The trauma of witnessing what he had and the fear it would happen to him must have triggered the awakening. Not only that, but he had become something other witches seemed to fear. Had he been alone in this world? A mere child left to face it and the hatred of his own kind by himself.

She took a step towards him and Fenix tried to hold her back, but she scowled at him and twisted her arm free, because she wasn’t going to stand by and let Archer hurt and do nothing about it. She went to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, and he tensed beneath her palm, his head jerking up.

Tears lined his lashes, but he was quick to wipe them away before anyone but Evelyn saw them. The pain remained though. Fathomless. Cutting. She smiled for him, hoping to alleviate some of it, even when she couldn’t lift the burden from his heart or his shoulders. All she could do was let him know he wasn’t alone in this world. Not anymore.

“I tracked the mages I could find,” he murmured huskily, swallowed and coughed to clear his throat, and then added, “One of them might have the key to your curse. It’s better we focus on you first. I can hold on and everyone is right. Archangel don’t know how to get Aryanna out of there either and they’ve been working at it for centuries. I want to help you. We don’t have much time to break your curse.”

Evelyn didn’t like the sound of that.

She nodded and then hesitated as a need rose within her, as she gazed down at Archer and felt as if she couldn’t breathe, not unless she asked him what was on the tip of her tongue.

“How…” She pulled down a breath and exhaled it slowly. “How did we meet?”

His gaze grew distant and a smile wound its way onto his lips, as if he was recalling a fond memory, and in that moment she knew with perfect clarity that she wasn’t the only one who had come to view the other as a friend. He had come to care for her too.

“I found you in Hell. Close to a place I call home. No one knows of it and nothing ventures near it. I came back from a shift at Archangel to mull over what to do next and then I sensed movement in the air, and you were there. I tried to help you remember who you were at first, but no spell I used worked and that was when I discovered you were cursed.” He lifted his hand and placed it over hers on his shoulder. “Aryanna was screaming at me that you were a phoenix. She filled my head with the notion of using your fire to free her. I had already infiltrated Archangel but couldn’t find her, and I still had no way of freeing her if I did discover where they were keeping her. I latched onto that plan of hers, desperate to be rid of her. Only I didn’t bargain on coming to care for you. When I realised that if you died, you would forget everything again, I focused on finding a way to break your curse. You had been so terrified when I had met you, and there had been so much despair in you whenever you struggled to remember anything and couldn’t. It caused you so much pain and suffering. I couldn’t let that happen to you again, so I ignored Aryanna as much as I could.”

She couldn’t imagine how terrible that had been for him. The sorceress was tormenting him and he had put up with it for her sake, delaying his plans until he knew she was free of her curse and would remember who she was when she was reborn. As twisted as it still sounded to her, it touched her. He had altered his plans for her, making himself miserable in order to help her, prolonging his own suffering.

“I used spells to mask what you were so Archangel didn’t find out, and those spells became more intricate as we grew closer. I wanted to keep you safe.” His hand slipped from hers and his gaze grew conflicted and she knew why.

Because he had intended to kill her.

She stared at him, wondering what she would have done if she had been in his position. What lengths would she go to in order to free him of his curse of having Aryanna constantly in his head, pushing and tormenting him?

The answer to that question surprised her.

She would do whatever it took, even dying in order to use the flames of her rebirth to free the sorceress and him in the process.

She kept that to herself, sure that everyone would think her crazy for considering such a thing when the sorceress was dangerous, liable to be captured and used to hurt all immortals.

Archer’s gaze drifted to her side and she placed her hand over the spot where her scar was as another question plagued her, one that had been bothering her for months.

“Why did it take me so long to heal the wound from the Fifth Realm?” She couldn’t bring herself to call it the wound that had killed her.

Archer took a long pull on his cigarette and exhaled, and she noticed it smelled like herbs. Was there something in that cigarette that was helping him retain control and calm down? Did it contain magic like Fenix’s pills?

“When you were—when I… brought you back, I wove a little magic into the wound to ensure it would be slow to heal. I needed you safe.” His dark eyes told her how much he meant that. The same look he had given her so many times, one that had always revealed the depth of his feelings for her. She believed that look. He truly wanted to keep her safe. He sighed. “I needed you away from Hell and the immortals. I had almost lost you. I knew the doctors would sign you off for months if the wound was having trouble healing. I was buying myself time to find a way to break the curse, but damned Archangel kept sending me on missions to Hell.”

Regret shone in his eyes and for a moment he looked as if he wanted to ask her something, and then he looked away from her and took another drag on his cigarette.

“I know I should hate you.” She paused when his shoulders went rigid, battling the urge to comfort him or take back those words. “You meant to hurt me. You saved my life so you could choose when to end it. A friend wouldn’t do that.”

His head jerked up. “Evelyn—”

“So I want to know, Archer,” she cut him off, unwilling to let him stop her now she had found her flow. She needed to put it all out there. She needed to know the truth. “Are you my friend or my enemy?”

Was he still planning to kill her?

That was the question she had wanted to ask, but one she had been too afraid to voice, so she had veiled it within another.

He swallowed hard and his brow furrowed as he gazed up at her, his voice scraping low with the pain that glittered in his eyes. “I… I want to be your friend.”

She had the feeling he had never had one before her, that he had been alone for two centuries, spurned by others, living in a place where no one ventured in order to protect himself.

---