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Terror?
Awe?
Relief?
Those snowy, perfect feathers slowly melted into an ebony that rivaled a starless night sky.
Chapter Sixty
Black as oil. Shiny and iridescent. The feathers were so rich that they outmatched the night sky. They glowed with magic, looking like dark gemstones.
Nothing else about Razai altered. He remained stony and resigned. Hair still rivaled the silver moonlight as it swept across brown skin. His body didn’t elongate or shift or show signs of a shifter’s spirit.
That left only one conclusion.
One devastating, impossible answer.
“You’re a demon,” I whispered, this statement somehow sounding true on my lips. But nothing about this was right.
“Full-blooded,” he affirmed dryly. “Jealous?”
I drew closer, as transfixed as the moon to its planet. Stunned.
I used to touch Mom’s feathers, layering my tiny wings against her huge ones to compare. My baby feathers had looked downy and playful against her sleek onyx blades. At the time, I’d sit on her lap. She’d hold me, watching as if I were the marvel.
Aren’t we both so beautiful? she’d whisper. It wasn’t ever a question, though.
Razai’s feathers were softer than I expected. With a bladed shape that promised to cut, they glided through my fingers like silk. The spines were thicker. Longer than Mom’s. But somehow more flexible. It’s as if they preferred to play with the wind instead of battling a storm.
I sank my fingers through them, surprised by how my breathing had slowed. My anger floated above me, disconnected.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked gently.
I jolted at his voice and retracted my hand. Hatred returned in full force, and now I was even angrier at myself. When had I even reached forward? I shouldn’t have touched him like that.
These were the wings of a brutal murderer. Razai had been winning my trust little by little, and the entire time, he’d been the one behind everything.
My instincts—not my magic, but the ones bred into every living creature—screamed at me to get out. Get away. Hide. But still, I ached to reach forward again. Needed to. Should it be this painful not to touch someone?
Confusing didn’t even start to cover it.
But yeah. I should run.
This man, this demon, gutted Benjamin and strung him up, still conscious, on a flagpole.
“You still haven’t screamed,” Razai observed, black wings folding in a whisper.
“Fear isn’t my style,” I shot back.
He cracked a grin, almost looking like the Razai I knew. “I was thinking along the lines of fury, not fear. I’d have bet money on you screeching threats and insults at me—oh. Oh. I see. You’re furious and terrified but too stubborn to run. You want answers.”
He was right. At this point, I had to admit that Razai would have killed me if he wanted to, and I knew that he could at any point in time. But now I had all the pieces, didn’t I? If I was going to die tonight, I might as well go with the puzzle complete.
“What are your real powers?” I demanded.
One brow lifted at my challenge. “Such a personal question for a woman with so many secrets herself. But, I’ll relent. My Demonic power lies in desire and persuasion.”
“Fuck you,” I breathed, fists clenched. How dare he?
