JULIUS

Selfishly, I’m watching Charlotte work in her studio. Something about the way she works and moves and expresses how she feels without knowing I’m there makes me feel less horrible for avoiding her.

We’ve all been avoiding her, and I think she’s avoiding us right back. It’s only fair, but you don’t have to like what’s fair.

Charlotte has always made me feel a little selfish. I love it when she eats the breakfast I make for her, knowing I’m the one giving her nutrition to have the energy she needs to get through the day and to sustain the magic that flows through her veins.

Lurking in the shadows of the doorway to her studio, I feel much more like a demon than a gargoyle.

My magic allows me mastery of the castle in a lot of ways.

Molding the shadows to my body is tricky but manageable.

I greedily drink in her body as she moves from the window to her easel, painting the thick dark clouds with streaks of golden lightning.

She captures the color so vividly. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she is painting with gold rather than acrylics.

The rain patters down on the roof high above us as I watch her paint. Each little flick of her wrist adds another smudge of color, adding to the painting that seems to be just as alive as the force of nature it’s capturing.

Lightning strikes close, and she flinches softly as the quiet in the studio is broken.

Rain taps against the large windows, making the warm light of the room dance slightly.

Her breath catches for a moment, and I feel the experimental prod of her magic.

I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning.

It’s not an inherently sexual touch, but I’m starved for Charlotte.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, setting down her palette and brush.

She shoves her hands into the front pockets over her overalls as she turns to face me.

I release a soft breath and let the shadows fall from my form. “Not too long. I can’t help myself knowing you’re right…there.” I lift my hand and reach for her before jerking it back.

“I am right here. I didn’t go anywhere, Atlas did,” she snaps, eyes misting over, her pretty pink lips twisting into a mixture of a grimace and a frown.

I flinch at the harshness of her words, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose to give myself a fraction of a second to think.

“He did, and he was wrong for expressing his hurt like that, but he will be back, and we’ll work this all out. I can feel it.” I press my free hand to my gut. “It’s worse than indigestion.”

My attempt to lighten the mood falls flat as her gaze withers.

“You’re so lucky you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” I ask softly, my booted foot toeing the line between the hallway and her studio.

I want to take her into my arms more than anything.

“Really fishing for a compliment, aren’t you?” The smile on her lips tells me she doesn’t mind my teasing.

“Well, the best compliments come from pretty witches?—”

“Can somebody help us?!”

“Please come quick!”

Marcus’ sharp calls for help send a bolt of panic straight through me. I swear if he fell off the castle again trying to practice his landings, I’m going to kill him myself.

Charlotte’s eyes go wide, and I can see as magic makes the ends of her hair whip up. The air tingles with it as it seeps out of her, but I can hardly tell the difference between her power and my mounting anxiety.

“Stay here,” I yelp as I rush out of her studio, pulling on the nest’s magic to speed up my steps inhumanly.

It takes me two panting breaths to go from the warmth of the castle out into the rain. Then I see why Marcus is screaming.

Atlas.

CHARLOTTE

Trust your gut .

Eloise’s words ring clear in my mind the moment after Julius zips from my studio. More of a green smudge than a gargoyle.

There was something in Marcus’ voice that has never been there before. Even from this distance, I could practically hear his fear, and it makes my heart race.

I take off after Julius, trying not to trip over my feet as I scramble down the stairs of the main entryway and through the still-open front door into the yard.

Julius, Darius, and Marcus are kneeling beside something in the grass, the rain soaking them straight to the bone.

They don’t even look at me as I rush up behind them, too taken with the state of?—

“Oh my god,” I gasp and throw myself onto my knees beside them.

Atlas is lying in the grass in a pool of golden liquid, smiling at his nest-mates in a way that makes my stomach drop. It looks like a goodbye, and I fucking refuse to let it be that.

I sweep my eyes over him, trying to take stock of what the hell happened.

His arms are at his sides, and his body has been cut in half on a slant.

That golden liquid is his blood, and the ground is saturated with it.

It’s all over Marcus and Julius and Darius, who all look so lost and shaken.

That look etched into Darius’ features is what strikes me the most. He has never allowed himself to look uncertain before.

“Don’t touch him,” Marcus says sharply, though the bite in his voice is pure fear rather than anger.

“I—” I bite back the urge to soothe him, to tell him I won’t because something begins to squirm under my skin.

Lightning strikes a short distance away, and the crack of thunder resonates in my bones. Something about that and the steady drum of the rain on my skin slowly forces my mind to calm, and a meditative state takes over me.

It’s like my magic comes to life inside me. It pulses through me like a second heartbeat I can feel as clearly as my own, and it’s calling out to Atlas. He is my mate even if he doesn’t want me, and I won’t let him leave me.

My hands reach out of their own volition, moving to rest over his chest. Another crack of lightning calls to my magic, and finally, it breaks free.

White light explodes around us.

Explodes out of me.

A rush of pain and pleasure floods my body, making me cry out. My palms burn and ache like I’ve held them to a stovetop, but my body throbs as if someone has been edging me for hours. I’m pretty sure my eyeballs roll into the back of my head, but all I can see is that blazing light.

We’re all blinded for one breath, two, three. I stop trying to count the moments that seem to drag on. Then, as if it had never been there, the light goes out like someone flipped a switch to turn it off.

Atlas’ eyes are on me, his pupils blown out and lips parted. Where his chest has been cut through is now closed with a golden scar.

None of us speak as the rain pounds harder against us. I don’t know what I did, but it was something, and it was enough. I jerk my hands back and rush to scramble back, but Atlas’ hand shoots out, and he grabs me.

“Firefly,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb back and forth on my hand as he clutches it. Like I’m the one in need of soothing.

I guess he can see it on my face before I feel it.

The pain and pleasure fade so quickly that all my emotions and endorphins come crashing down on me.

A broken sob tears out of my throat before I slap my free hand over my mouth to catch it.

Tears roll down my face in thick, anime-like globs that mix with the fresh rain.

“Hush now, Firefly, I’m alright.” His voice is soft and kind. Different from the sharp disdain he normally speaks to me with, and it makes me crumple over him.

My body folds like a wet piece of paper, and I shield him from the rain only to further soak him with my tears.

“We need to get them inside.”

“To the nest. It will be best for his healing.”

“Should we each take one?”

“I don’t think she would let us separate them?”

I vaguely hear their voices, but my racked sobs and the pounding rain, in addition to my lack of giving a shit, keep me from placing who says what exactly. I tense on top of Atlas when they mention separating us.

Atlas draws my hands to his lips and presses soft kisses into my palm. “My Firefly, so bright and beautiful,” he murmurs, his words sending a shiver down my spine.

A soft wash of clarity brushes over me as I cling to Atlas.

“Lift them together,” Darius commands.

“We need to get them out of the rain before she gets sick,” Julius adds.

“On three.” Marcus cuts in.

I shut my eyes as they lift us. I clutch Atlas as if my life depends on it when really I think his life is more the one in question. Who knows what I did or if it will hold?

I can only hope.