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)
Illium heard the car horns drifting up from the city as they flew through, smiled. “Narja’s always reminded me of New York even though it looks nothing like it.” Quite aside from the lack of skyscrapers, the streets weren’t laid out in a neat grid, but in a chaotic sprawl designed to fool the eyes of winged enemies.
“It’s the energy of it.” Aodhan rode an air current a distance before returning to Illium’s side. “It has the same vibrant heart.”
“I think you’re right.” Having stayed high for the most part, Illium now began to descend toward the roof of the citadel.
Aodhan followed.
The lower they went, the more of the city they could see and smell and hear. A low murmur of noise that was pure life, enmeshed with the scents of food, produce, and people. Rich and layered and textured, Narja enticed with its warmth and complexity while hinting at the sleek efficiency of its infrastructure.
Titus wasn’t the most tech-minded of archangels, but he had people on his team whose job it was to stay on top of innovation. That was what made him a good archangel despite his personal preferences.
They landed to a smiling welcome from one of Titus’s vampiric staff members. “Lady Sharine is in the courtyard, practicing hand-to-hand combat.”
Illium had to wrench on the reins to halt his instinctive protective response. His mother was no longer a fragile being with a fractured mind. These days, not only was she the Guardian of Lumia, she was also the lover of an archangel who could be too much for even other archangels—and she had no trouble holding her own with him.
Not particularly wanting to think of his mother and the word lover in the same breath, Illium skated away from that thought as he and Aodhan made their way into the warm stone of the citadel. “That way”—he pointed right—“pretty sure there’s a balcony there from where we can look down into the courtyard.”
The citadel had an external wall, which meant the courtyard could be fully enclosed. However, the large main gates were left open for the most part. Illium didn’t initially spot his mother in the huge space active with movement…but no, there she was, in the far right corner, the sunlight-dusted indigo of her wings held tight to her back as she circled her opponent. The two were in a more private area of the courtyard, a section surrounded by its own walls.
Her gold-tipped black hair woven back into a tight braid, she wore a dark brown tank top and sleek black pants, both similar to things he’d seen other women wear when training. No shoes, both his mother and her opponent in bare feet.
She seemed so young that it made his breath stop in his chest.
Sometimes, he looked at her and almost didn’t recognize her, but in a way that made him ferociously proud of her. His mother was fully Sharine now, defiant and intent and a law unto herself.
She also moved with a dangerous grace that had his mouth falling open. “When did she learn to do that?”
“Is she sparring with Ozias? I can’t make out the other fighter’s features from here, but she has the falcon wing coloring and she’s tall enough.”
“Yes, that’s her.” Titus’s spymaster—and a deadly warrior. “Knives! Why are they using knives?”
Aodhan gripped the back of his T-shirt when he jerked forward. “Do not make Eh-ma angry when we’ve only just arrived.”
Illium gritted his teeth. “I can’t do it. I can’t watch.” He promptly closed his eyes. “Tell me when they’re done.”
A warm chuckle had Illium barely cracking open one eye. He winced as Ozias got in a hard kick, then grinned when his mother retaliated with a punch the spymaster never saw coming. By the time the two bowed to each other to finish off the bout, he had both eyes open and a fist up in a silent cheer.
His mother’s head jerked up right then, though neither he nor Aodhan had made a sound; she flew over to them a heartbeat later. “Boys! I hoped you’d detour this way!” Huge hugs and kisses from the tiny storm force of a woman who had given birth to Illium, and who had held Aodhan’s hand through unimaginable pain.
She alone would always have the right to call them boys—though Illium knew she’d be annoyed with herself for the slip. Even after all this time, she took intense care to treat Illium as an adult, her son who she’d so often treated as a child during her lost years.
After she’d lavished them both with affection, she just beamed at them. “You look so happy.” The champagne hue of her eyes sparkled. “What have you been up to?” Delight in her voice, along with a faint maternal suspicion that made Illium want to laugh—he couldn’t really blame her for it, not after all their previous escapades.