Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
His warrior-artist’s shoulders pushed against the linen as he twisted to better see the sculpture, his thighs rigid against the canvas, and his hair—that pale hue coated with what appeared to be shattered diamonds—falling out of its rough queue to tickle his cheek. It almost reached his shoulders this season, and Illium knew he’d lose patience with it soon, but for now, Illium enjoyed playing with the softness of it when they kissed…or when they just lay on the grass together under the stars, their wings overlapping and fingers interlinked.
He’d never understood the perfection of a moment until he’d spent hours just watching the stars emerge overhead on a dark night in a hidden forest with Adi by his side. His entire being had been happy in a way that was the universe contained in his skin, the energy inside him in no hurry to be anywhere else.
It might’ve taken the two of them time to figure out who they were to each other, then again to understand how to go forward not only as best friends but as lovers, but once they had, that had been it.
Two strong temperaments meant they’d clashed over the years, but love…love was a generous thing, each of them easy to forgive the other. And any moments of temper were but minor irritants in an eternity of love.
Illium couldn’t imagine life without Aodhan.
Who looked up just then, his extraordinary eyes—shards of translucent blue and green shattering outward from a pinpoint black pupil—filled with storm clouds. “Tell me again why I’m making these ridiculously tiny fairies?” His skin was starlight, the beauty of him a wonder of muscle and power and hands careful enough to handle the delicate lines of the whimsical creature in his hand.
“Because they make people happy—and they always seem to find their way to the person who needs them most.” The two of them had never discussed the whys and hows of that, but it was understood that Aodhan had an unknown power that he was able to impart into these artworks he made once every decade or two.
Tiny statuettes that brought wonder even in the heart of darkness. “Where’s Shadow?”
“In the house.” Aodhan put down his work in progress with infinite care, then shoved a hand through the diamond-bright strands of his hair. “She can sense that there’s a storm coming, doesn’t like how it feels on her fur.”
The sky was a piercing blue topped by fluffy white, but Illium knew Aodhan wasn’t talking about that. It was the energy that had begun to gather in an invisible tempest over the past few days, a prickling that made the tiny hairs on Illium’s arms rise, his senses on high alert. “Someone’s going to ascend.”
It wasn’t always forecast this way, with a rising tension in the air. The last ascension—Suyin’s, straight after the end of the War of the Death Cascade—had been a sudden, violent thing, Suyin’s injured body smashing through a wall of the Tower’s infirmary to spear into the sky.
No buildup of power in the air that was a heavy pressure on the skin.
No taste of a strange and lovely metal on the tongue.
No whisper of a mysterious scent on the breeze.
Only a sparkling black rain that had lasted hours—and that had started even as she ascended.
“When I spoke to Mother yesterday,” he added, “she said it happens this way sometimes. As if the world knows before any sentient being.”
Aodhan’s eyes met his, but there was no question in those astonishingly beautiful shards. Aodhan, more than anyone, understood that Illium hated the idea of ascension. He wasn’t in the least jealous of the person who’d have to play Cadre politics and leave the people he loved to set up a whole new territory.
He began to step through the door just as Aodhan turned to walk toward him.
A distant hum. A rising wind. A sun exploding in his chest.
No!
2
Because they make people happy…
Of course Blue would say that, Illium’s heart the biggest of anyone Aodhan had ever known. Even now, when he was a seasoned first general who’d led troops into battle with gritty focus, Illium had managed to hold on to his heart with a stubbornness unparalleled.
Today, as he stood in the doorway, the wind riffled through the blue-tipped black of his hair, a lover as intoxicated by him as Aodhan. Sometimes, he felt so much for Illium that he was tempted to pull back, retreat from the power of it—such a tide could sweep a man under, bury him as Aodhan had once been physically buried by those who would own him.
But that was the thing with Illium.
He’d never wanted to own Aodhan. Only to love him. That changed everything.
His heart sighing at the feeling of being home now that Illium was nearby, he began to walk toward his warrior. Though Illium’s body had gained another layer of muscle over the centuries, his biceps cut, he remained streamlined in form under the sleeveless leathers that had been a gift from Raphael a long time ago.