“Just for a couple of minutes. You took a nasty hit though.”
I felt like it. I was dizzy enough that I actually took Raihn’s hand when he offered it to me, and pulled myself upright. I felt… strange, like my entire body was off balance. I glimpsed something out of the corner of my eye and turned, and he let out a grunt as he jerked to the side, dodging.
“Careful with those things.”
I craned my neck to look behind me—at them.
My wings.
I could only glimpse them, and though I felt their presence on my back, I struggled to isolate the muscles to move them around.
But even at a glimpse…
I stared at them in shock. In silence.
They were Vincent’s wings. Featherless, of course, as all Hiaj wings were. The skin was darker than night, so black light curled up and died within them. The talons were silvery white, like drops of moonlight. And…
And I had the accents of red. Marks of the Hiaj Heir.
Bright, bloody red, running down the wing in delicate streaks, collecting at the edges and along their outline.
I tried to move them and did so, jerkily, in a way that I’m sure looked ridiculous.
Wings.
My wings.
I turned in a circle as I tried to get a better look at them—watching the way the moonlight fell over them with narrowed eyes, like any angle might reveal a flaw that would betray my hallucination.
No. They were real.
I was making myself dizzy.
“Take it easy,” Raihn said quietly. “It’ll take a minute to adjust to them.”
He spoke so gently, with so much knowing calm. He too, I realized, would’ve been an adult the first time he conjured his own wings.
My wings.
My wings.
It seemed like a ridiculous joke. Like a fucking miracle. How many times had I dreamed of having them? How many times had I looked at the sky and wished I could reach out to those stars like the vampires did?
My cheeks hurt because I was smiling so hard. I laughed a little, a sound I didn’t mean to make.
And then suddenly—
Suddenly—
My chest tightened, bracing against a wave of something much more complicated, something that swallowed my joy in a single gulp.
I drew in another breath and instead of a laugh, this time a strangled sob came out, bubbling up before I could stop it. When I inhaled, it scraped through me like a serrated knife, ugly and gasping, red-hot with the overwhelming, searing intensity of my anger.
I was on the ground again.
I barely heard Raihn gasp my name. Barely felt his hands on my shoulders when he was immediately at my side, crouched next to me.
“What’s wrong, Oraya? What’s wrong?”