Page 33 of Gift from the Wing

His body flinches, but that’s the most he moves as his eyes take in his room. My gaze does the same, and my heart rate spikes as I stare at the beauty in front of me.

It’s a sanctuary.

For his mind, his body, and his soul.

The room is cloaked in quiet and low amber lighting, and a much cooler breeze blows through here than any other room we’ve seen.

The walls are completely lined with bookshelves. If I listened closely enough, I swear I could hear each shelf groaning under the weight of all this knowledge. In the center of the room, an overstuffed armchair with an attached ottoman sits, angled toward a small, low-burning fireplace. The chair is upholstered in black velvet, with a purple blanket over its back, and a small side table stands beside it. It’s just big enough for two cups of coffee and a book.

There’s a free-standing brass lamp that casts a warm, focused beam of light that’s positioned perfectly for you to see the pages of your book. My attention lingers there. It’s so easy for my mind to paint a picture of the two of us cuddled up in that chair under our blanket.

The fantasy is broken as the door shuts, cutting me off from the view.

“You don’t want to go in?” I ask quietly, looking up into those haunted whiskey eyes.

“Not right now, Primary,” he says gruffly before leaning down and capturing my lips in a sweet, gentle kiss.

His shadows wrap around him in a layer of armor when he pulls back and my heart cracks a little, but I’m thankful he didn’t fade through the walls. He’s staying here by my side as we finish our tour, despite wanting to disappear for a while.

Silently following Tillman’s lead, we continue our path to the end of the hallway. When we reach the fork, he turns to me. “Which way, Will, right or left?”

Aww, shit. I don’t want to decide.

“Left,”CC says.

“Left,” I quickly repeat out loud when I see Corentin about to decide for me.

I do glance to the right when we round the corner and all there is, is a single door, and my eyes widen when I feel my own magic pulsing through it.

My bedroom will be last.

The left hallway matches the right. There’s only a single door, but unlike every other room in this hall, I can’t feel anyone’s magic coming through the wood. Instead, it feels ancient, powerful, but not distinct enough for me to say it’s Elementra’s or CC’s, or, well, anyone’s I know.

When I reach for the knob, anticipation on the verge of killing me, I hear CC’s laughter ring through my mind, and I roll my eyes.

“Don’t travel all the way in the room just yet, Willow. Your mind needs a break and to be at full strength before you venture around in here,”he says.

I pause, relaying the message to the guys, and they each clam up slightly with the uncertainty of what’s behind the door, but I just vibrate with excitement. I heed his warning despite wanting to ignore him, though.

“Holy shit. What is this?” I ask quietly as I slowly open the door.

“I call it an amplifier room,”CC answers cryptically, and I tell the guys.

“We saw a bit of this in his memories. I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Caspian says as he eyes the space and the guys all grunt in agreement.

“Can you tell us about this?” I ask out loud, but I don’t open my mind for the guys to hear his reply. They finally seem to be relaxing fully now, and I don’t want CC’s voice to surprise them.

“You should ask Gaster for his notes on the Valorian Veil.”

“The Valorian Veil? The home of the gods? Why?”

“You’ll find your answers there.”

Humming, I once again inform the guys, then turn all my attention back to the space in front of me. I can feel the pull of the magic in here attempting to draw me closer, so I take CC’s warning more seriously and step back out the doorway. I can’t see the entirety of the room from here, but I see enough to sate my curiosity for now, until I can explore to my heart’s desire.

The walls are covered in a smooth, reflective material that seems to shift and change, showing glimpses of places I’ve never seen, and I shake my head out from the dizziness I feel from staring so hard. How this is possible, I haven’t a clue. I’d think the material would reflect what’s in the room like mirrors, but that’s not the case at all.

Looking down, the floor is a mixture of tiny, polished stones that form intricate patterns, drawing my eyes and mind into a state of focus. I find myself again having to shake my head, and I take another step back.

---