Page 52 of As Above, So Below

I swing my gaze to the opposite side of the room. Bright white walls and flooring speckled with dark blue throw rugs in a haphazard manner make the room feel bigger than it is. There are a few standard pieces of furniture, a tall dresser, a wardrobe, a smaller dresser with a mirror, and a couple of plush chairs before a fireplace.

The abundance of white is almost overwhelming, giving theroom a disorienting dream-like feel. It stands in direct contrast to my room in the Tower, which had been dark with shadowed corners. Yet it felt safe despite being in the hells.

This room does not feel safe.

Despite it being empty.

Where is Zuriel?

My eyes fall to the hands folded in my lap.

Blackened talons gone once again, replaced by long, slender fingers. Turning them over, I curl my fingers to inspect the rounded nails. These hands would be useless as a means to defend myself.

Swallowing hard, I discover my fangs are smaller than they had once been. With a quick drag of my tongue, I find they’re just as sharp.

Fae fangs.

My face sets into a scowl.

Have I been rendered completely useless?

No real fangs, no claws.

My innate shimmers as if it’s laughing.

Well, at least I have that.

With a quick glance behind me, my eyes land upon my black-feathered wings. The ray of sunlight that beams upon them reveals hidden hues of green, purple, and blues in an iridescent mixture that shifts with the slightest movements. Colors I’ve never seen in my feathers before.

My eyes widen.

In this light, they’re absolutely breathtaking.

The sun warms them, the sensation crawling down my spine. The sudden desire to feel the sun upon the whole of my wings floods my veins, and I rip the blanket away, revealing the delicate pale color of my bare legs.

I pause to stare.

They haven’t changed much, but they have changed. My skin color remains the same, a pale nearly pearlescent hue, but the limbs are more shapely, more filled out.

An indication of living tissue.

I’ve done it.

I’ve escaped.

My incredulous laughter is more musical sounding than it should be and I stop, my brows furrowing.

What?

Has my voice changed too?

I clear my throat as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. Slowly, I place my weight upon them, testing the sturdiness. The smooth marble upon the soles of my feet sends yet another shiver down my spine.

A feather-light contraction matching my excitement ripples within my chest and I freeze, dumbfounded. Drawing in a deep, slow breath, I place my hands over the center of my chest and wait.

Almost immediately, I feel it.

A heart.