Page 55 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

A mbrose shifted in her seat and chose her next words carefully, afraid to reveal too much.

“There’s this light,” she began slowly. “It just kind of comes to me sometimes. It shows up when I’ve needed it the most and saved me quite a few times.

It happens so quickly and it’s so blinding it’s almost scary, but I always know it’s going to be okay.

You said the Alkijin couldn’t survive in the light and when they had me surrounded it just came.

When it touched them, they turned solid and I could fight back. I could kill them.”

“You killed one?” Akadian’s gaze bore into her over his goblet as he took another drink.

“More than one. Quite a few actually,” she admitted.

He eyed her, mouth slightly agape. “That’s…really impressive.”

“I thought you weren’t giving out any more compliments,” she teased lightly, trying to lighten the squeeze in her chest.

“Well…” He ran a hand through the dark waves that fell down around his face, pushing them back and away from his eyes, the corners of his mouth tilted into a sly smile.

He moved to sit on her bed and pat the seat next to him for her to join.

When she did, he laid back, resting a hand over his eyes the way he had the first night he brought her to their chambers. “It is.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she laid down next to him, her bones and body aching for sleep. The image of the Alkijin flashed across her mind and she knew she’d be seeing them in her nightmares for many nights to come. Just one more thing to haunt her in her dreams.

“Thank you. ”

“Don’t get used to it, Little Rose,” he teased back and she cracked a smile. A real smile.

“Can I ask you something now?” She stared at the prince half lying on her bed, legs dangling off the edge, his feet still firmly on the ground.

“You can ask.”

“Why do the royals hide their wings?”

Akadian stiffened. “It used to be common knowledge. That was before my time, when the gods still lived in the kingdoms, so I’ve never shown anyone mine.” He paused for a moment. “Well, no one until now.”

Ambrose could still see the vision of his wings displayed so incredibly, even though they were long gone now. Magickally tucked into wherever he was hiding them.

“Why hide them now?”

“Direct orders.” He moved his hand away from his face and stared at the painted ceiling.

“As you know, the royals were the first race the gods created…”— ‘Your gods invaded this land. They did not find an empty continent, they found our continent. Our home.’— “They created us almost exactly in their image and strength, but they didn’t give us their immortality.

It’s why many refer to us as ‘near gods’, because we’re comparable to the gods but we don’t quite measure up in a one-on-one fight.

We can still be killed. Though, we’ll long outlive any of your natural deaths.

The gods would never create something more powerful than they are. ”

“So that means…” The realization hit her.

He nodded. “The gods also have wings and they no longer want anyone to know that.”

“Casimir?”

“Yes. And every other royal on the continent.”

She let his words sink in, allowing them to fester into theories. “Why would they order you to hide them?”

Akadian stretched his arms above his head and his leathers lifted to show the small of his stomach.

Ambrose had to fight the urge to trace her eyes over the hard lines that found a home there.

“I don’t know. Like I said, by the time I was created, the law was well known and it was one of my first given orders to never let a citizen of Almuria see them, or my life would be forfeit. ”

Suddenly, Ambrose understood why he looked like he was struggling so much with a choice in the forest. Showing her his wings could cost him his life if she told anyone.

He could’ve flown off and claimed she perished in the woods, no one would’ve ever known what happened.

He had been deciding whether or not to trust her.

He did it to save her. Not only had he defied Casimir’s orders not to intervene—he’d defied an order from the gods themselves.

To save her life.

Something swelled and fluttered in her chest as she realized just how much he’d given to her.

What would Casimir do if he found out?

“Why did the gods leave the kingdoms? You said you were created after The Inferno. How old are you?”

Akadian closed his eyes. “I’m five hundred years old.”

Ambrose jolted upright. “That means you were created around the same time as The Inferno.”

He looked her in the eye and nodded. “The morning after.”

“Why?” she asked. “Why did they make you then? Why did they leave?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I only met one. He created me and told me he had a purpose for me that I was to fulfill. He turned me into a weapon and then I never saw him again. I always received my orders from my brother who swore he never got his orders directly. As far as I know, no one’s heard from them since.

I know they’re still here, somewhere. I can feel them. It’s hard to explain.”

“What did he look like? Which one was he?” she asked, imagining the effigies that surrounded the walls of the Capital and which one he might be.

“I don’t remember. It was clear that day but once he was gone, it’s as though my brain can never fully recall what he looked like.

I’m not even entirely sure it was a he, it’s just a feeling I get when I try to remember.

” Akadian shook his head. “I don’t recognize him on any of the statues though.

No matter how many times I look, there’s never anything familiar there.

I still check though, every once in a while, just to see. ”

Illusion Magick? She wondered. The God of Mind and Being. They no longer knew his name, but he was the King of the Gods—and technically still the emperor of Almuria—the most powerful of them all. It was possible.

Golden rays reaching down from the small window kissed his face as the sun rose higher into the sky, morning coming into full force.

His face was as flushed as hers with dark circles forming under his bright-blue eyes.

He looked as exhausted as she felt. Apparently, even the royals needed a good night’s rest. She wanted to reach out.

To move the hair that fell in front of his face so she could see his eyes more clearly.

To touch his cheek and see if it was as warm as it looked.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she huffed and fell back onto the bed, turning to face him.

She let the morning sun wash over her own face, the warmth spread across her features as she realized that was the first moment of peace she’d had in a long time.

How far away her life in the servant dorms felt—getting ready with Ernaline before running to the kitchens so as not to anger Ms. Asquith.

It had been a life of fear and servitude, but she had her friends, and it was relatively safe as long as she did what she was told.

Which she very often didn’t. But this world was so much more dangerous.

A world of ancient secrets that she never meant to discover, and lies that she didn’t know how to decipher.

A small part of her wished she could, but she knew there was no going back. The person she was, was gone.

Nothing felt safe anymore.

She wondered if it ever would.

“Why did you do it?” Akadian peeked at her.

“Do what?”

“Why did you kill the guard?”

“I-” No one had asked her that in all the time since it happened. “He wanted me to bed him and I couldn’t do it. When I refused him, a chase broke out that turned into a fight and I killed him with his own sword.”

He didn’t say anything and she prepared for the lecture she knew would come.

About how she should’ve known her place.

How it wasn’t worth throwing her life away over.

How she should’ve just gotten it over with and it would’ve been for the better.

How she was a servant and didn’t have the right to refuse him anyway.

Akadian pulled her hand into his and squeezed it. “Good.”

What?

“Good?” she repeated, taken aback.

Akadian turned and looked her deep in the eyes, his hand never leaving hers. “I can’t stand the way the royals treat the servants or the fact that the servant class exists in the first place. It’s demoralizing and inhumane. I can’t do anything about it, so usually I keep silent. It’s disgusting.”

She didn’t know what to say.

The prince could always be found somewhere in the palace—lately near her—silently brooding about something. She never dreamed that was the reason for his silence. She always assumed he enjoyed the torture he saw.

“I don’t understand…” She pulled her hand away from his and wrapped it around herself. “You had me punished.” She remembered the morning in the dining hall when he reprimanded her and had the draconian beat her.

“I have a role to play just like anyone else in the kingdom. None of us are free from the gods’ wrath and your punishment could’ve been much worse if I hadn’t stepped in.

You spoke to a royal out of turn in front of the king .

He expects me to take care of the punishment in the kingdom, I couldn’t say nothing.

But I am truly sorry.” He looked at her and she could see the shame in his eyes.

“If I hadn’t stepped in, the king could’ve commanded me to use my magick against you and I couldn’t bear that.

I despise using Magick and only do when directly ordered to.

Please. I’ll understand if you don’t forgive me. ”

“I do,” she told him, tentatively taking his hand back in hers. “I know we’re all in impossible situations.” Part of her wanted to be angry. To shout and yell, but she knew by now that he was as much at the peril of the gods as the rest of them. “I forgive you.”