“Oh wow, is that?”
Vrahs comes next to me and strokes my shoulder. “You’ve imparted yourself, your magic into your demon form. It’s a marvel. Truly something unheard of.” He lays a kiss on the top of my shoulder as I stare, dumbfounded, at my feathers.
Each one is tipped with a golden shimmer, as if dipped in gold paint.
As if made not just of whatever makes demons but also the magic I always thought was too pretty, too pure to be mine.
But now, the gold shimmering magic doesn’t seem the same when tipping my feathers.
It seems…
Right.
Vrahs looks me up and down, gaze dazzling with…
Nope.
Anyway, he approves of my new addition as much as I do.
“So, now that you’re newly winged, are you ready to head to the fae city?”
I shrug, ignoring the sharp twinge in my whole… in my fucking everything. “I was ready before I had wings.”
“That may be, but now you present as a mighty adversary. They’ll see you for being as powerful as you are. The fae won’t try their usual stunts because of it.”
I nod and take his hand. “Do you want to make the portal or shall I?” I ask, magic rising and tingling just under my skin.
Tingling.
I allow myself the smallest smile at the sensation.
“First things first. Let’s get us some appropriate battle attire.”
I’ve never seensuch beautiful, well-crafted clothes before. Ryker has it all laid on the conference table. But before we arrived back at the basilica, Vrahs showed me how to tuck my wings into nullspace so they don’t drag behind me.
I’ll have to strengthen those muscles soon, but according to Vrahs, always carrying your wings is actually a form of punishment for criminals.
Interesting.
“We didn’t have anything to fit our true forms here, but once I explained to the reapers that our murderer was fae, they were more than happy to let us take whatever we needed.”
No one likes the fae. Not even reaper demons.
Among the swaths of fabric are plenty of rune- and sigil-laced tunics and pants. All of them clearly crafted for the male form.
I choose a pair of buttery soft black leather pants. As they slide over my skin, the spells and wards its owner imparted glide over me, slithering like snakes or vines. I shudder when the magic in the garment meets mine, letting out a small, “Oooh!”
It draws everyone’s attention.
“As you were. I’m just feeling new stuff.”
Ryker nods. “The garments are very powerful.”
The lords keep their gazes on me a few more moments before going back to the clothes.
I sort through the tops but don’t choose any. Topless in this form feels right.
Thorne takes a pair of pants and begins undressing. Vrahs and I share a weighted stare, and without words, Vrahs takes the pants from him.