Page 35 of Claimed By Midnight

"Oh no, the tiny human's got me." His massive frame topples backward, wings splaying out like a startled bird. The nearly-black feathers fan across the ground as he clutches his chest. "My reputation, ruined by a healer half my size."

A laugh bursts from my throat. "You're worse than those theater performers in the market square."

Koros rolls onto his side, his dark red hair falling into his face as he props his head on one hand. "I'll have you know I considered a career in dramatics before settling on weapons trading." His mismatched eyes sparkle with mischief.

"Get up, you oaf." Raven kicks his boot. "You're going to crush your primaries flopping around like that."

He springs to his feet with surprising agility for someone his size. "Can't let a little thing like dignity get in the way of proper training." His scarred face breaks into a genuine smile - the kind that transforms his intimidating features into something almost boyish.

"Again?" I bounce on my toes, energized by his playfulness.

"Always ready." He settles into a fighting stance, but I catch the way his wings twitch - he's planning something.

I circle him carefully, looking for an opening. When I spot his weight shift slightly, I dart in - only to have him spin away with a pirouette that sends his wings swooshing dramatically.

"Such grace!" He twirls again, looking ridiculous for someone built like a war machine. "Such elegance!"

"Stop dancing and fight me properly!" But I'm laughing too hard to sound stern.

"As my lady commands." He bows with flourish, nearly smacking Raven with his wing.

She ducks, cursing. "I swear by Solas, Koros, if you molt all over this courtyard with your theatrics..."

"Worth it." He winks at me with his golden eye, then assumes an absurdly formal stance. "Now, show me that move again. This time with feeling!"

He pushes me just as hard as Raven, though he keeps it light with jokes. By the time we have a chance to rest, I'm covered in sweat and bruises, scrapes along my skin that makes me wince.

Koros settles on the stone steps, his massive frame making the stairs look like children's blocks. His wings drape behind him like a dark cloak as he passes me a water skin.

"You think this is bad?" He gestures at my scraped knees. "When I first started training, I knocked myself out cold trying to do an aerial maneuver. Woke up with half my feathers bent the wrong way and my instructor laughing so hard he cried."

I take a long drink, studying the way his scars crinkle when he smiles. One cuts deep across his jaw, pale against his tan skin. "What happened then?"

"Kept at it." He runs a hand through his dark red waves, his mismatched eyes distant with memory. "Though I did learn to practice over water after that. Softer landing."

Raven snorts from her perch on the wall. "Tell her about the time you got your wings tangled in those market banners."

"That was different." His black eye catches the light like obsidian while the golden one sparkles with mirth. "Those banners were clearly possessed by malevolent spirits."

"Right." She stretches her dove-gray wings. "The spirits made you crash into three fruit stalls and end up wearing half a melon as a hat."

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh at the mental image of this mountain of a xaphan covered in fruit pulp. He catches my expression and clutches his chest.

"Betrayed by my own student." His massive wings droop dramatically. "After I shared my deepest shame."

"Please," I lean forward, "tell me more about these possessed banners."

His face lights up, transforming those intimidating features into something warm, almost childlike. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." He launches into the tale, his hands painting pictures in the air as he describes his younger self's misadventures.

I find myself relaxing as he talks, the earlier tension from training melting away. It's strange - when I first met him, his size and those battle scars terrified me. Now I see how his hands, capable of crushing stone, are gentle when he demonstrates a move. How his fearsome appearance hides a soul that delights in making others laugh.

20

URIEL

While Athena and I have fallen into a rhythm, she still finds a way to grate on my nerves - and excite me. I wonder if that will ever stop, and I find myself hoping…it won't.

I slam the door of my workshop behind me, the hinges rattling. The little demon trails after me, her honey-blonde curls bouncing with each determined step.

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