Page 87 of First Offense
With how rare females were in our world, it wasn’t uncommon for courting seasons to be notoriously advertised. Nora from all over would venture to the female’s location to express interest and see if they suited one another. All it took was a few inhales, and the angels knew whether or not they had a future.
Layla’s courting season was famous among the Nora. All the available males in the dukedom would have flocked to her in droves, hoping to be a match for the future queen.
That she hadn’t found a single worthy candidate… I smiled. It was wrong, but I couldn’t help it.
And one look at Novak told me he knew exactly what had inspired my reaction. Because he felt the same way.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to slam my fist into his jaw or just accept fate. We’d always shared similar tastes in women. It was why we’d often played together in the bedroom. So it came as no real surprise that he was also compatible with Layla.
“We can’t do anything about it,” I told him. “She has to marry a royal.”
He merely arched a brow in response, his expression essentially saying,You think I intend to play by society’s rules?
“I mean it, Novak. We can’t have her.”
“Who are you trying to convince?” he countered. “Me or you?”
With that taunting comment, he stalked over to the exercise corner to continue his workout—something he’d started when Layla ran into the bathroom. I’d joined him for a bit, but now I couldn’t stop glancing at the door, waiting for her to return.
My feathers ruffled at my back, impatience trickling through my veins and leaving me restless. I wanted her to come out here and face me. However, I had no idea what I would say when she did, which left me preferring she continue to hide.
It was a conundrum that made me feel unbalanced.
I knew what I should say, that she just hadn’t found the right mate yet. Except I didn’t trust my mouth to form those words.
Leaving her all those years ago had been one of the hardest decisions of my life. And Sefid had rewarded me for it by making me her guard.
Oh, I knew why he did it. As a potential mate, I’d be even more aggressive and protective as usual. And as a loyal Nora Warrior, he trusted me not to act on my impulses.
But every moment in this cage with her ate at my sense of integrity. I wanted her. I’d always wanted her. I just couldn’t have her—a fact I easily accepted when I didn’t have to see her. Then I’d used her black plumes as a reason to fight my instinct to claim her. However, now that I believed in her innocence, I was right back to wanting her again.
I ran a hand over my face and blew out a breath.
This was a nightmare and a dream come true all wrapped up in a convoluted mindfuck of an experience.
I must have muttered that out loud, because Novak grunted in agreement. Or perhaps he’d read the annoyance in my features.
Even after a century apart, the man still seemed to know me. And if I were being honest, I felt as though I still knew him as well. He’d inherited a few new dark edges, his lethal side enhanced and sharpened by his time spent in the reformatory, but his innate sense of honor still lurked beneath the surface. It was that knowledge that had convinced me of Layla’s truth.
Novak wouldn’t lie about how he Fell. He gained nothing by doing so. And the fact that I could still see that honesty in him told me he hadn’t truly Fallen—not in the way I’d thought, anyway.
I’d seen that massacre shortly after that rogue Noir killed all those Nora.
Novak had been waiting for me there, his expression inscrutable. Sorin and Zian had stood beside him as well, the three of them too honorable to flee.
And rather than ask them to explain, I’d sent them to be reformed. Their wings told me all I needed to know, and part of me had always wondered whether or not they’d participated in the slaughter. I’d thought perhaps they’d been corrupted by the rogue Noir, seduced into the dark side, but now I knew the truth.
Novak had stood there that day because he’d wanted to see my reaction, to determine if I’d known this would happen. My sending him away without a word or a comment to the contrary had solidified what he thought he knew, giving us both cause to hate the other.
“I should have talked to you,” I muttered, more to myself than to Novak. “I should have asked you what happened that day.”
His icy irises flared as he looked at me, then he turned to do another round of pull-ups. I translated that to mean he agreed. I almost pointed out that he could have tried to tell me the truth, but we both knew I wouldn’t have listened. His wings were black. I didn’t need the details; that was for the Reformer to deal with, not me as his commander.
“I never would have sent you on that mission had I known what would have happened,” I added, giving him my version of an apology. There wasn’t anything I could do to take it back or fix it, but I could choose to believe him now. I could choose to help him, too.
While this upgraded cell certainly met my original expectations, it was still a prison. And I didn’t trust the men in charge. Even Jerin, who continued to bring our meals daily, was hiding something. I felt certain of it.
Nothing about this place or this situation was what it seemed.
