Page 41 of Claimed By Night

“If her magic is strong enough, she could deny the enchantment,” I counter, but the idea still sticks with me all the same.

“Not if all three of us blend our magic together,” Thoradin responds. He has a point. The three of us should have enough magic to overpower whatever magic is inherent in the so-called angel. If she were a witch or a hag, the three of us would be able to overcome her and reveal her for what she truly is.

“It’s too dangerous. She’s too weak,” Dragan says as he looks at the beautiful girl and shakes his head.

“I don’t care,” I respond with stern conviction.

The subject in question remains silent. Her tired eyes have once again found the fire. As to her wings’ status, she makes nocomment. It strikes me then that we know very little about her. We have no idea where she came from, or evenwhatshe came from. In the spaces she’s left with her silence, Dragan’s filled in the gaps with his assumptions of her goodness. If it came down to it, would he be able to see she isn’t what he thought?

His hard gaze is trained on the fire and it’s as if I can see the gears of his mind working furiously. Dragan, for all the time I’ve known him, has been driven, stubborn, and moral to a fault. More than once his actions, rooted in honor, have caused more harm than good. How fitting that Dragan is literally a creature of stone. He’s hard, unyielding, immobile. Time seems to have hardened these qualities, making him doubly set in his ways. Admittedly, it isn’t always a bad thing.

When he’s on your side, he’s the greatest ally you could hope for. He’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met. And this situation is proof—Dragan’s going (quite literally) to the ends of the earth for a woman we know nothing about.

I turn my attention to the anger still welling inside me. I feel beyond irate, my emotion boiling very near the surface. I want to slap Dragan out of this trance the woman has put him in, break him out of this blind obedience. His immobility on the subject of the angel is dangerous.

Watching her at the edge of the fire, however, my anger lessens somewhat. I feel it, too. That pull toward her. Maybe she really is an angel and not some hag or witch—it would explain the fact that none of us can keep our eyes off her.

And then, suddenly, I understand Dragan better. I start to see this situation from his perspective, because I feel the pull towards her just as readily as he does. If she truly is an angel, it’s not just her beauty that induces Dragan’s loyalty; she, by her very nature, is deserving of our reverence. An angel’s power is unmatched and, so far, even with all my misgivings, she stillcould provide the outcome Dragan’s so desperately wanted—an outcome he’s waited a century for.

For Dragan, the angel isn’t just a potential sexual conquest. She’s his hope. He wants nothing more than a reason to rebel against Variant. And prior to this moment, he’s never been given that reason. But if she truly is an angel and possesses her wings, she’d be reason enough. An intact, female angel is about as powerful as powerful gets. This is the reason Variant had the wings amputated from every female angel, and the reason he had all male angels put to death. He wants no one to threaten his rule.

As far as I’m concerned, until the angel proves she still possesses her wings, I consider her nothing more than a liability. And given the fact that she bears the markings, chances are she’s been ripped of her wings just like every other angel has been.

“You’re a fool, Dragan,” I say as I look over at her. “You’ve bought into her story—hook, line and sinker—without ever seeing proof that she is what she says she is.”

“I never said I was anything,” she suddenly pipes up and faces me accusingly. “You’re the ones who’ve made a big deal about me still having my wings.”

“Then you don’t possess them?” I ask her, surprised at the vitriol in her tone. Her expression reveals nothing; she merely stares into the fire, her body swaying slightly with the effort to hold herself upright. In the moment, she doesn’t appear dangerous. She appears tired, scared, and confused. She clutches at the edges of her sheet and I feel the tension leave my body. Briefly, I forget where I am and long just to touch her, to warm her. To share my light. To feel hers.

“I don’t know,” she says and shrugs.

“Of course, you don’t,” I reply with a smile I don’t feel and glance back at Dragan. He refuses to meet my gaze.

“I think you should do it,” the girl says as I face her and she stares me right in the eyes.

“Do what?”

“Force the truth out of me, like Thoradin suggested.”

“No,” Dragan says and approaches her, but she turns her heated gaze on him.

“The only way any of you are going to trust me is if you know I’m telling you the truth. And I need you to trust me.”

“TheEnchantment of True Seeingwon’t produce your wings,” I say staunchly.

“But if I’m aware that I have my wings, I’ll admit that I do, right?” she asks.

I cock my head to the side. “I suppose so, yes.”

She takes a deep breath. “Then do it. I want to know as much about myself as you do. I’m tired of living without answers and only facing more and more questions.”

“You’re weak, Eilish,” Dragan starts.

She shakes her head. “Cambion healed me before; he could heal me again.”

“He isn’t as powerful in this realm,” Dragan tells her. “The Shadow Realm is already leeching the life force from all of you.”

“I could heal her,” I say with conviction.

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