Page 183 of Lost in the Dark

“You have me,” I say quietly, meaning every word. If anyone deserves someone in his corner, it’s this male—and I want to be that person more than anything. I want to support him and show him the joy that love can bring rather than the pain he has known. I don’t know if I love him yet, but he is a male I can easily come to love if I am not half his already. “For whatever that’s worth, you have me.”

His silver gaze cuts down to me as he draws to a stop and turns to face me, his eyes cautiously searching mine.

“Do I?” he whispers, the soft rumble of his voice sliding through me in such a way that makes my skin shiver with pleasure. His clawed hand lifts to graze my cheek in the gentlest caress, his gaze never leaving my face, and I wonder what devil I am tempting and why I am neither sorry nor afraid. “Are you mine, Naomi?”

“For as much as I can possibly be in this moment, I am,” I reply, my hand lifting to curl around his still resting on my cheek as I meet his eyes squarely. “You have been all the goodness and hope I’ve known in the darkest days of my life. If I can give you even a measure of the joy and peace you’ve managed to bring me within all the darkness trying to tear my mind apart, I would give it without thought. I would be everything you need just as you’ve unfailingly been all that I need.” I grimace. “You have been there for me, my shadow and then my friend, as you were when you rescued me from my nightmare.”

A soft groan escapes him, and his dark wings unfold behind him, extending out to wrap around me with the softest caress as his thumb brushes my cheek as if he can’t resist touching me.

“Do not make me out to be a hero. I am not one, Naomi. I planned to abandon you to it, to force you to confront it yourself, for what would be all the right reasons. For what my training tells me you need. Even now I wrestle with my decision, wondering if I have failed you.”

A soft laugh shakes me, my eyes crinkling with amusement. “You think I don’t know that? But you did anyway, despite whatever your best intentions were and what space and inner confrontations you believed I needed. I saw that resolve in your eyes, saw that you were prepared to leave, and yet you came for me. You saw what I needed despite what you felt you needed to do to help me.” I sigh, letting it blow out from my lungs. “I would be that for you. I would be the one to give you what you need rather than what everyone else would think you need. You let me be weak when I needed to be, rather than forcing me to be strong as I’ve had to do all my life.”

He scoffs quietly, looking down at me as if he can’t believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. “Weak is not a word that I would use to describe you, my witch. Courageous would be more accurate. Few would have accepted me as you have.”

I trace a finger along one of his dark feathers brushing my arm, my lips curving as I watch a shiver rush through him. “Some would disagree with you there. I have been told that I suffer from an unfortunate case of being far too trusting,” I point out with a chuckle.

“You trust your intuition, not a conniving tongue,” he counters, his brow furrowing with displeasure at my words. “And that requires strength and courage rather than being caught in only what can be immediately perceived. I know I frightened you, but you saw beyond that.”

“You did scare me,” I agree, pressing my cheek into his hand. “But how could I not see past that when, after a while, it was hard not to see you rather than my nightmare?”

His eyes flutter shut, his deep breath fanning over me in a long sigh, before they open again and those silver eyes bright with emotion pierce me. “I wanted to be seen. In all my interactions with humans, I was only accepted for the mask I wore. I wanted, needed to be seen and accepted. And you did.” He leans down, his nose brushing gently against mine so that my own eyes drift shut with the pleasure of our close contact. “You are such a miracle to me.”

I don’t know why tears spring to my eyes. Can astral bodies cry? It doesn’t matter because I can feel the pressure behind my eyes with the jump in emotion.

“You are my miracle too,” I admit. I give a shaky laugh. “I’m pretty sure at some point in my life I wished for you. And here you are.” A frustrated groan escapes as I press my brow against his, the enormity of my feelings rising like a tide from the depths of me, finally uncaged. “Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

“Waiting for you and never knowing it,” he whispers, his breath warming my lips seconds before they descend, brushing firmly against mine.

The kiss is magic, nothing less. Not just a meeting of mouths. How can it be? It is a meeting of spirit and energy that connects and slides with every brush of our lips and the tangle of tongues. His mouth has a coolness within its warmth like the sweet bite of mint that I suddenly thirst for like a cup of mint tea on a hot day. I suck on the tongue plundering my mouth, drawing more of the cool sweetness into me, and with it his energy pours into me, brushing through me as it mingles with mine in a joining that I swear I feel soul-deep.

I whimper a protest when his mouth finally pulls away. My eyelashes fluttering open, I peer at him blankly as he steps back, a wistful smile on his face, and extends a hand to me.

“Come.”

That single word makes my sex clench with desire, and at that moment I would like nothing more. His lips quirk higher, knowingly, but he waits patiently until I take his hand, my fingers threading through his. With a gentle tug he pulls me to his side, the wing nearest me cupping around me as we continue to walk hand in hand like lovers.

“This realm of yours,” I murmur, “is it truly as beautiful as this?”

“More,” he rasps.

“I think I would like to see it for myself when my day comes if, even briefly, it’s possible.”

There is a contemplative pause that makes me wonder what he is thinking, but when he finally speaks, his words fill me with a sense of warmth and hope that in the end he will still be there for me.

“I would like nothing better.”

Gralius

It is getting worse. Days have past, and the air is becoming chillier as the period Naomi calls October begins to come to a close. She spends much of her time peering out the window, pointing out the decorations going up around her neighbors’ homes. She has abandoned all pretense of working for which I am glad. I can see the exhaustion creeping through her, and so I indulge her in the little bizarre ritual she calls “Halloween,” which is apparently a day but also includes several days leading up to the event filled with decorating and movies of supernatural specters.

With some of this human entertainment consumed for their holiday, I do not understand how they are truly frightened of anything that comes from the other realms and not completely desensitized to everything. But I don’t remark on this, wanting to savor her enjoyment as much as possible.

She deserves the respite since her peace is in short supply these days in her own world. So much so that I am now dragging Naomi up into the astral the moment she begins to sleep. I am even doing it at times when she is awake and has assumed that she has merely fallen asleep unknowingly or having a waking dream to provide an opening for the veil to break through for her, the selin and gathalat wyrms’ terrible appetites terrorizing her.

That is happening more and more often. I do not think she realizes how much time we are spending in the astral, or how long she has begun to “sleep,” with the toll this traveling is taking on her. Her energetic body cannot sustain this and is deteriorating somewhat faster than it otherwise would as a result, which has caused her increasing rest periods. All of this to counter the terror that she feels in the face of veil’s necessary work.

I want to tell her that these creatures of the veil will not hurt her, that they aren’t even interested in her but the deteriorating energy surrounding her, but I know that she will not accept what she refuses to even acknowledge.

---