for the first time. The feathers look soft and yet strong, the purple dark and rich looking against my creamy complexion. My hair, however, is terrifying. Part of my bangs are pulling a There’s Something About Mary and sticking embarrassingly straight up.
I immediately try to calm them down, leaning into the mirror, but then I get caught up in staring at my face. I’m radiant. And not in an egotistical I’m so hot kind of way, but my skin is legitimately glowy. My hair is the same color as my wings, while my lips, nose, and eyes resemble my sisters’, although I’m a little more gaunt than they are. Hopefully, that’s nothing that a little binge eating can’t fix.
I step back from the mirror and take in the tattered gown I’m still draped in. How I’m still covered, I don’t know, but the skirt ripped up both thighs, and the rest of it didn’t do much better. The black plunging number will not be bouncing back from battle. I stare at the sequined fabric for a beat and then all at once, I need it off me. Morax’s crony put me in this thing, and I want to burn it down and not wear it for another second.
I reach behind me to get the zipper, but my wings get in the way, and I can’t quite get it. So instead, I pull the top down and push it over my hips, the fabric tearing as I force it off me. I’m panting by the time it drops to the ground, and then I kick it across the bathroom, anger surging inside of me.
I know the Ophidian is gone, but I wish he was here so I could kill him again. In an effort to soothe myself, I replay his screams as he died, but it’s not enough to placate me. I rest my palms on the countertop and try to breathe through the hatred coursing through me, hot tears pricking behind my eyes, my fingers trembling as I curl them against the black tile.
I go still when I suddenly feel Ire press against my back. My eyes snap up and meet his in the mirror, his gaze steady as he reaches around me and places his hands over mine.
“Breathe, Sable,” he encourages, his voice low and comforting. His chest rises and falls as an example of what he wants me to do. I didn’t even realize that my breaths were short and shallow, so I work to match my inhales and exhales with his.
“He’s gone,” he reassures me, his body anchoring me to the here and now.
“I know. But he didn’t suffer enough,” I say thickly.
“I know,” he parrots back, his eyes never leaving mine.
He runs a gentle stroke down the edge of my wings, and my breath catches, the heat of his body soaking into my back as he presses his chest against me. “I was so fucking worried when you disappeared with him,” he confesses, his words nothing more than a murmur that feels like silk against my ears.
“When you got portaled away…I didn’t know what Lucifer had planned. I thought—” His words choke off, and then he shocks the hell out of me when he buries his face against my neck and takes a ragged breath.
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I turn around so I can press my lips to his lips. “I’m okay,” I whisper, both to him and to myself, and he raises tortured eyes to my face.
“I was a fucking asshole to you,” he confesses. “I mean...don’t get me wrong, I’m an asshole to everyone, that’s who I am. A progeny of Wrath isn’t going to have a sunny disposition,” he says dryly. “And...I didn’t want a mate. I was convinced of that. Then you beaconed, and I was so pissed. So fucking arrogant about it. About how I was better than you. About how you couldn’t possibly be my match. But then...I kept hearing you. Even when our connection was cut.”
My eyes grow wide at his words, but I don’t interrupt.
“I couldn’t always hear clearly. Snippets at best. But I just got used to the sound of your voice. To the cadence of your breath,” he says, raising a hand up to skim across my bottom lip. “Pretty soon, I couldn’t even sleep without listening to you in my dreams, and if I went too long without hearing you…”
He drops his hand from my face and runs it through my feathers,