Page 53 of Angel of Ruin

I blink slowly, my mind struggling to process what I've just heard. The words take a moment to sink in, echoing in my head like a distant dream. Did I hear that right? Did he actually say...?

My pulse races, and I feel lightheaded, almost dizzy with disbelief. I want to pinch myself, to make sure this isn't some cruel illusion like the ones I saw in the labyrinth. After everything I've been through, after all the pain and struggle, could it really be true?

The arena erupts into an overwhelming blur of cheers and applause. I stand there, stunned, as the sound washes over me like a tidal wave. My legs feel weak, and I'm afraid I might collapse from the sheer intensity of emotion coursing through me.

I've done it. I've actually done it.

As the realization sinks in, I feel tears welling up in my eyes. I blink rapidly, trying to keep them at bay, but it's a losing battle. Years of struggle, of doubt, of pushing myself beyond my limits—it's all led to this moment.

My gaze drifts upward, and I find Sariel's eyes locked on mine. He's smiling, a genuine, warm smile that makes my heart skip a beat. In that moment, all the complications between us seem to fade away. I see pride in his eyes, and something else... something deeper that makes my breath catch in my throat.

Rahmiel's voice cuts through the din, commanding attention once more. "Never in our history," he proclaims, his tone reluctant. "…Has a human accomplished what Lyra has today. It is only right, therefore, that we award her the wings she so truly deserves."

The crowd's cheers grow even louder at this announcement. I hear voices congratulating me, people calling out my name, but it all seems distant, dreamlike. My focus narrows to Rahmiel's words, to the promise of wings—my wings—that I've fought so hard to earn.

I think of my family, my friends, all of the people who said this wasn't possible. That it would never be done. That itcouldn'tbe done. I've proved them all wrong in one fell swoop and nothing in the world has ever felt better than this.

The future I've always dreamed of is finally within my grasp.

27

LYRA

Istand there, still reeling from the events that just unfolded. The crowd's cheers have died down, and most have dispersed, leaving the arena feeling strangely empty. My heart is still racing, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I've done it. I've actually earned my wings.

As I try to process everything, Sariel tugs on me. His golden eyes are fixed on me, a mix of emotions swirling in their depths. We haven't had a chance to really talk since... well, since everything.

"Lyra," he says softly. "Come with me."

I don't question it. I let him pull me back into the corridors, and it doesn't take me long to realize that we are headed for his room. Not that I mind it. I want a moment alone with him.

Once we are inside his room with the door shut, I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "Sariel, I?—"

"Wait," he interrupts, holding up a hand. "Before you say anything, I need to apologize. What I did... the role I played in the trials... it was unforgivable. I put you in danger, I betrayed your trust. I understand if you can never?—"

"I forgive you," I say, cutting him off.

He blinks, clearly taken aback. "You... what?"

I meet his gaze steadily. "I forgive you, Sariel. What you did was wrong, yes. But in the end, you stood up for me. You risked everything to support me. And... I understand the position you were in."

Sariel's shoulders slump, relief evident in his posture. "Lyra, I... thank you. But I don't deserve your forgiveness. What I did?—"

"Is in the past," I finish for him. "We can't change what happened. But we can move forward."

He nods slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're right. And I promise you, Lyra, I'll make it up to you. Whatever it takes, however long it takes, I'll prove to you that your trust in me isn't misplaced." He cups my face. "I love you, little nexari."

Biting my lip, I lean into his hand. "And I love you."

Sariel brings my mouth to his, kissing me deeply and slowly. It's sweet and sensual, a promise of more to come. I melt into him, my heart racing as his hands roam my back, pulling me closer. He breaks the kiss, his golden eyes locked onto mine.

"I'm going to make everything up to you," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. He guides me back towards the bed, his intent clear. I comply, my breath hitching in anticipation.

He kneels before me, his hands trailing down my sides, sending shivers up my spine. He undresses me slowly, reverently, like I'm something precious. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at me—like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen—chases away any self-consciousness.

He spreads my legs, his gaze never leaving mine. I can feel his breath between my thighs, warm and teasing. He leans in, his mouth finding my most sensitive spot.

I gasp, my hands fisting the sheets as pleasure courses through me. He takes his time, exploring, tasting, driving me wild with every touch, every lick, every kiss. It's an apology, a promise, a declaration all rolled into one. And I'm lost in it, lost in him.

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