Page 29

Sierra

I paced the length of the great room in Rowen's mansion, my bare feet silent against the polished floor.

The ticking of the ancient grandfather clock in the corner marked each passing minute with maddening precision.

Archer had been gone for hours. It shouldn't have taken this long to speak with his mother, should it?

My fingers tugged nervously at the hem of my oversized sweater as I glanced at Callum and Rowen.

The former was lounging in an armchair, legs stretched out before him, though the tension in his shoulders belied his casual posture.

Rowen stood by the window, his broad back to us, hands clasped behind him as he stared out into the gathering darkness.

"He'll be back soon.” Callum gazed at me, his eerily pale green eyes tracking my movements. "Stop wearing a path in Rowen's expensive flooring."

I shot him a glare but couldn't muster a retort. My nerves were frayed, my mind constantly circling back to the Shadow Beast and the haunting darkness that had tried to claim me in my sleep. The memory of those cold tendrils snaking around my consciousness made me shudder.

The sudden shift in the air's pressure was my only warning before the massive double doors swung open. I spun around, heart leaping into my throat.

Archer stood in the doorway, his raven-dark hair windblown, his ice-blue eyes finding mine immediately. Relief flooded through me at the sight of him, but it was quickly tempered by the grave expression on his face.

"What happened?" I asked, taking an involuntary step toward him. "What did she say?"

Rowen turned from the window. "You were gone longer than expected."

Archer moved into the room, letting the doors close behind him. He slipped off his leather jacket, and I noticed something clutched in his hand. A book that seemed to shimmer strangely in the light, its binding shifting between gold and silver.

"My mother had a lot to say.” His voice was low and controlled. Too controlled. "And she gave me this."

He held up the book, and I felt a strange pull toward it, a tingling sensation that raised the fine hairs on my arms.

"What is that?" Callum asked, uncoiling from his chair with predatory grace. "It feels... wrong."

"It's a heavenly text," Archer explained, his eyes never leaving the book. "One of the few things she took with her when she fell."

Rowen approached, his expression cautious. As he neared the book, a hiss escaped his lips and he jerked back, as if burned. "That thing is pure angelic energy. It's poison to full demons."

Archer nodded grimly. "Which is why I need your help, Callum. My mother said the book contains knowledge about the Shadow Beast. What it is, where it came from, how to fight it. But I can't safely open it here without some kind of containment spell to shield its energy."

Callum's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "A containment spell? For angelic energy?" He rubbed his jaw. "I've never attempted that before, but... it's possible. Give me a moment to think."

While Callum mulled over the problem, Archer's gaze finally found mine again. Something in his expression shifted, softened. He crossed the room to me in three long strides.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.

The simple touch sent warmth cascading through me. I leaned into his palm. "I'm fine. Just... scared."

His thumb stroked across my cheekbone. "I know. But we're going to figure this out."

"I think I might have a solution," Callum announced, interrupting our moment. He gestured to the center of the room. "Bring the book to the table. I'm going to create a sphere of shadow that should neutralize the angelic energy without dampening the information within."

We gathered around the massive oak table at the center of the room. Archer placed the book carefully in the middle, and I couldn't help but stare at it. Despite its otherworldly appearance, it looked ancient, the kind of artifact that should be in a museum behind bulletproof glass.

Callum closed his eyes, his hands hovering over the book. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees as darkness began to pool from his fingertips.

Not ordinary darkness.

This was something deeper, more substantial, like liquid night.

"What exactly is he doing?" I whispered to Archer.

"Shadow manipulation is Callum's specialty," Archer explained quietly. "He's creating a barrier that will absorb the angelic energy without destroying the book itself."

The shadows wove themselves into an intricate dome over the tome, pulsing with faint iridescence where they contacted the book's surface. Callum's brow furrowed in concentration, beads of sweat forming at his temples.

"It's fighting me," he muttered through clenched teeth. "The light doesn't want to be contained."

Rowen placed a steadying hand on Callum's shoulder. "Focus. You can do this."

After another minute of intense concentration, the shadows solidified into a transparent dome that encased the book completely. Callum exhaled heavily and stepped back, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"That should hold," he ground out, weariness causing lines to appear around his eyes and mouth. "You can open it now, Archer, but I wouldn't recommend touching it directly. Use these." He conjured a pair of thin shadow gloves that he handed to Archer.

With careful movements, Archer slipped on the shadow gloves and opened the book. The pages seemed to be made of something between paper and light. Translucent yet substantial. Strange symbols danced across the surface, rearranging themselves as we watched.

"It's written in the angelic tongue," Archer explained. "But it's translating itself for me."

For the next hour, Archer pored over the book, occasionally reading passages aloud or showing us illustrations that made my stomach clench with dread. The Shadow Beast, as we'd been calling it, was far older and more terrifying than I'd imagined.

"The First Dark," Archer read, his voice taking on an odd cadence that wasn't quite his own. "Before creation, there was darkness. Not evil, not yet, simply the absence of light. But when light was created, a portion of that original darkness became resentful. It gained awareness, purpose."

"So we're dealing with primordial darkness?" Rowen asked, his expression grave. "Something that predates even Hell?"

Archer nodded. "According to this, it has been defeated before, but never destroyed. Only pushed back into the spaces between worlds, where it waits for an opportunity to return."

"And that opportunity is me," I said, the realization settling like ice in my veins. All three men turned to look at me. "Isn't it? That's why it's coming for me."

Archer hesitated, then nodded again. "My mother believes it's chosen you because you have power, Sierra.

More power than you realize. Your ability to communicate with the dead is just the beginning.

You stand at a crossroads between life and death, light and dark.

The Shadow Beast wants to use you as a vessel to fully enter this world. "

My legs suddenly felt too weak to support me. I sank into the nearest chair, heart pounding in my ears. "So it wants to... possess me? Use my body?"

"It wants to absorb your power and use it as an anchor to manifest completely," Archer clarified, though that hardly made me feel better.

"How do we stop it?" Rowen demanded, his commanding tone a small comfort in the face of such an ancient threat.

Archer turned to another page, revealing what looked like a battle scene. Figures wielding light against a formless darkness. "The last time it was defeated, it was by a being of dual nature. Someone who carried both darkness and light within them."

The implication hung in the air for a beat before Callum broke the silence.

"Someone like you," he said to Archer. "Half demon, half angel."

Archer's expression was unreadable as he nodded. "My angelic heritage gives me access to light magic. Powers of healing and banishment. Powers I've barely explored because using them makes me vulnerable to detection by other angels."

"So you have to use your light to fight this thing," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear threatening to choke me. "The very power you've been hiding your whole life."

He met my gaze, and I saw uncertainty flash across his features before he masked it. "Yes. The ritual detailed here will force the Shadow Beast back into the between-spaces for another age. It won't destroy it, nothing can, but it will save you, Sierra."

The way he said my name made my chest ache. There was such determination in his voice, such protectiveness.

"What does this ritual require?" Rowen asked, all business.

Archer detailed the complex ritual. The ingredients needed, the specific timing, the precise words and gestures required to channel angelic light into a weapon of banishment.

The whole time he spoke, I felt myself growing more and more numb, more distant, as if I were watching the scene from outside my own body.

This was happening because of me. Because something ancient and evil wanted to use me as a doorway into our world. Because I was special in some way I'd never asked to be.

I barely registered when they finished discussing the logistics, when Rowen declared he would procure the rarer ingredients, when Callum closed the shadow dome over the book for safekeeping.

My mind was spinning with the implications of everything I'd learned, with the crushing weight of responsibility and fear.

"Sierra?" Archer's voice broke through my thoughts. "Did you hear what I said?"

I blinked, focusing on his face. He had kneeled in front of my chair, his eyes level with mine, concern etched into every line of his handsome face.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears.

"I asked if you were okay," he repeated, his hands resting on my knees. "You haven't said anything for the past twenty minutes."

Had it been that long? I looked past him to see Rowen and Callum watching me with similar concern.

"I..." I tried to form words, to express the tumult of emotions churning inside me, but nothing adequate came out. Instead, I just shook my head slightly.

"Talk to us, flower," Callum urged, his normally teasing tone absent. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"You're safe here," Rowen added, his deep voice reassuring. "Nothing can reach you while you're with us."

I appreciated their attempts to comfort me, but the words felt hollow against the magnitude of what we were facing. How could they promise safety against something that had existed before creation itself? Something that could stalk me through my dreams?

Instead of answering, I rose from the chair, displacing Archer's hands. I moved to the window, staring out at the night sky without really seeing it. Behind me, I sensed the three men exchanging glances, communicating silently in that way they had.

Footsteps approached, and then Archer's reflection appeared beside mine in the window glass. He didn't touch me, didn't push, just stood there offering his silent presence.

"What if it doesn't work?" I finally whispered. "What if the ritual fails? What if you can't access enough of your light? What if?—"

"Sierra," he interrupted gently, turning me to face him. His hands came up to frame my face, tilting it up toward his. "It will work. I won't let anything happen to you."

The fierce protectiveness in his eyes made something inside me tremble. He gathered me into his arms, pulling me against the solid warmth of his chest. His lips pressed against my forehead in a tender kiss that threatened to unravel what little composure I had left.

"Everything is going to be alright," he murmured against my skin. "I promise you that."

Despite the conviction in his voice, I caught the flicker of doubt in his eyes. He wasn't certain. How could he be? But he needed me to believe. He needed me to be strong enough to face what was coming.

I closed my eyes, breathing in his unique scent. Ocean breeze and something darker. More primal. For a moment, I let myself be held, let myself draw strength from his embrace.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Callum and Rowen watching us, their expressions a mixture of concern and something deeper, more primitive. They were as affected by this as I was, bound to me in ways none of us fully understood yet.

A sudden, desperate need washed over me. I didn't want to think about Shadow Beasts or ancient darkness or rituals. I didn't want to contemplate what might happen if we failed. I wanted to forget, just for a little while. I wanted to lose myself in sensation and connection rather than fear.

"Archer." I pulled back enough to look up at him. "I need you to make me forget. Just for tonight."

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Forget?"

I nodded, my hands moving up his chest to thread through his hair. "I don't want to think about any of this right now. I just want to feel something else. Something good." My gaze flickered to Rowen and Callum, then back to Archer. "I want all of you to help me forget."

Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed quickly by heat. His hands tightened on my waist. "Sierra..."

I rose on my tiptoes, pulling his head down to mine. "Please," I whispered against his lips. "I need this. I need you. All of you."

The last of his resistance crumbled as I pressed my lips to his. He responded instantly, hungrily, his mouth claiming mine with a ferocity that stole my breath. His tongue swept inside my mouth, stroking against mine in a sensual dance that made heat pool in my belly.

I threaded my fingers through his raven hair, holding him to me as the kiss deepened, grew more desperate. His hands slid down to grip my hips, pulling me flush against him until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, I saw that Callum and Rowen had moved closer, their eyes burning with the same need that was coursing through me.

"Make me forget," I repeated, my voice husky with desire. "All of you."