Page 19 of Claim the Twilight
I close the door behind him, then head to my bed and sit. I haven’t allowed myself to contemplate the possibility that Orina might not surface. That the vampire aspect of her new nature might maintain control, that I might lose the woman I love. I can’t allow that possibility to take root in my mind.
I must have faith in her just as she held faith in me all these months.
I’m not a religious man. The closest I’ve ever come to feeling as if I’m connecting with a higher force was when I heard a young savant play a melody called “The Calling” centuries ago. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. But even then, I was privy to the truth—that the white wings were nothing but abandoned supernaturals who happen to live in a realm that we couldn’t access. And that God, the entity they once served, was long gone, and so I knew there was no one to hear the savant’s cry. No one to listen if I pray.
And yet now I find myself reaching out to whatever benevolent power might exist outside the realm of myunderstanding to ask it to help Orina. To give her the strength of will to find her way back to us.
Back to me.
Time slips away, like grains of sand through fingers. I sense its passage with every breath and every heartbeat. Minutes stretch toward an hour and hurtle beyond. I remain still. Watchful. Hopeful.
Orina is tenacious. Determined. Strong of mind and body. Stubborn…Yes, she is stubborn. She’ll fight to return to me. But the voice of doubt whispers,What if…what if this time she fails…
“Come back, Little Silver. Please.” I swallow the lump in my throat and drop my head to my hands. “Please…”
A finger of awareness trickles down my spine.
My head whips up to find Orina sitting up on her cot. Her eyes are no longer ink black, and her mouth doesn’t curve into a wicked smile. But still, I hesitate, afraid to believe…to hope. “Orina?”
She blinks and focuses her gaze on me. “Ezekiel…”
The ragged sob that’s been trapped in my throat since I placed her in the cell finally breaks free. I was wrong: “The Calling” melody isn’t the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. Orina’s voice is.
HEMLOCK
Cold fingers grazing my cheek jolt me from sleep, and my pulse spikes when I’m met with Daisy’s phantom form hovering above my bed.
She grins down at me, dark hair floating around her head in some kind of spectral breeze. “It’s time to wake up,” she says. “Orina is waiting to be let out of the wards.”
It takes a moment for me to process her words, but when they register, a jolt of energy shoots through me, propelling me out of bed and to the door.
Orina is awake.
She’s back.
She’s fucking back.
I barrel down the staircase, almost knocking Matthew over as he makes his way up them.
He lets out a yelp and grabs hold of the banister.
“Can’t stop! Orina’s back.”
“That’s fabulous news. I’ll let the staff know and…”
His voice trails off because I’m out of earshot. Dammit, why can’t I teleport? I mean, I could if using my power didn’t mean risking…
My steps slow as reality kicks in.
Ezekiel’s curse may be lifted, but mine remains.
Now that Loviator is free, my time might be limited. Telling Orina how I feel about her, admitting that I’m in love with her would be cruel.
The bubble of joy in my chest bursts, and dark, inky despair trickles through my veins.
Orina can never know how much she means to me.
The connection we have must die.
