Page 46 of Wrath Of Suns And Shadows (The Osparia #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ace

C row had become our only thread to Emelyn, and we had heard nothing from him. I felt helpless, longing for Emelyn’s return. The only thing keeping me sane was the late-night adventures Luana and I had started having.

Every night, we met before bed. Sometimes, we walked. Other times, we flew, savoring the freedom that came with being in the skies.

But tonight was different. As I approached our usual meeting spot, a knot of uncertainty tightened in my chest—Luana wasn’t here.

Where could she be?

I stepped lightly, boots soundless on the forest floor.

I walked a few more paces through the trees, thinking she might have been hiding from me.

It wouldn’t have been the first time. But as I looked around, my smile faded.

Maybe she didn’t want to meet up tonight. Was she sick? Had something happened?

I turned on my heel to get back to camp, but a small pebble bounced against my leathers as that beautiful goddess of a woman leaned against a tree.

“You are terrible at hide and seek,” she signed with a bright smile that warmed my fucking soul. But even she must’ve seen a difference in me because as she walked over to me, her features faded. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I was worried about you. . . I’m sorry, I’ve been more anxious about everything since Maeve and Emelyn.” I signed and she grabbed my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Why don’t we do something that you and Emelyn enjoyed doing tonight?” I brightened at that.

“Okay,” I signed, the gesture was lost in the rush of air as I snatched Luana into my arms and vaulted into the night sky.

Her body tensed, a soft whimper, no, a laugh slipping from her lips at the abrupt ascent, but within moments she melted into me, trusting as we cleaved through the darkness together.

The cold air bit at our faces, and I soared higher, aiming for the mountain’s peak that loomed in the distance.

We hovered, suspended between earth and stars, the world below reduced to hushed murmurs and the heavens above an endless abyss. Clutching her close, I felt her heartbeat pounding in tandem with mine.

“Can you make a ledge?” I signed with one hand while nodding toward the side of the mountain.

Understanding flickered across her face, and she extended her hand towards the mountain, fingers splayed before clenching into a tight fist. With a resonant groan, the stone agreed to her will. The mountain rumbled as a ledge jutted out from its side.

Wasting no breath, I swept us toward our new perch. As her feet touched solid ground, my hands lingered just a moment on the curve of her hips before falling away. She stepped forward, her silhouette framed by the vast expanse before us, and I watched, caught in the spell of her wonder.

“This is amazing,” she breathed out, her words snatched away by the wind. Her curls danced with wild abandon around her face, and the moonlight lent an ethereal glow to her skin. “I could see why you both would love doing this.” Her smile would always cut through any darkness shrouding my heart.

I sat on the ledge, letting my feet dangle, and she followed suit, coming and sitting next to me. Memories surged—Emelyn and me younger, more innocent, our laughter echoing through my mind as we hunted for Pojo leaves on Heavensreach.

“When Emelyn and I were younger,” I began, my hands moving slowly, “we used to pick the Pojo leaves from the mountains of Heavensreach twice a year when they bloomed. We continued to do it every year together . . . until this year.” My hands trailed off.

My chin sank toward my chest, and a silent sorrow gnawed at my insides.

I felt her gaze, heavy with understanding, as my eyes fixed on the ground below—the sharp drop where earth met nothingness, where hope teetered on the edge.

Luana’s finger, delicate yet insistent, lifted my chin, urging my gaze away from the darkness that beckoned my mind. Her eyes held mine, fierce and unyielding, as if she could command fate with her stare alone.

“We will get her back, Ace. I’m sure of it,” she murmured.

In one fluid movement, she shifted, draping her legs over mine.

The contact sent a shiver through me—not from the cold, but from the sudden closeness.

My palm found the small of her back, anchoring her to me. I wouldn’t let her fall off the ledge.

Her weight settled against me, a presence both comforting and achingly tender. She nestled into my chest, her head finding its place over my heart—a heart that belonged to her.

“Are you alright?” I signed, needing to be sure that she was okay.

Her fingers entwined with mine, a silent answer to my question. This was new, this intimacy. We had shared hugs, clasped hands, and given lingering touches—but now she yielded to me fully. I felt the shift in us, subtle but there.

I pulled her closer, my wings unfurling with deliberate grace to envelop us both. The cold nipped at us at this height. Even in the spring, the winds carried a chill to them in the mountains.

I left a small aperture open, framing the vast expanse of the night—a canvas of ink splattered with starlight. I signed once more, a playful apology curling on my lips.

“Normally we have hot tea to fight off the chill. Sorry, I wasn’t prepared.” A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth.

“Your warmth is plenty,” she said, causing my heartbeat to stutter and pick up its pace. “It’s so peaceful up here.”

“It’s one of the reasons we love it so much. Crowds—people—are always noisy. We enjoyed listening to the wind and the water flowing down the sides of the mountain at winter’s end. Watching the moon over the nightoaks, it’s quiet.”

“It feels . . . almost lonely.” She looked up at me through her lashes with a sadness lingering in her hazel eyes, the specks of gold shimmering in the moonlight.

A sadness for Emelyn, or me, or maybe both of us.

“Maybe . . . but it’s steadying—freeing, paying attention to the tiny details of the world around you when there are so many other things—bigger things —going wrong,” I signed before palming her cheek and brushing a wild curl away from her face.

My throat bobbed when my eyes lingered on her full lips.

I cupped her cheek and tugged her back against my chest and rested my chin on the top of her head.

If I looked at her a moment longer, I was going to kiss her, and I refused to ruin the progress we had made together by moving too fast.

Time bled away, and we stayed there for so long that I felt the moment Luana’s body went limp with sleep.

The moment her breathing became slow and even.

I cradled her against me as I glided us slowly to the ground, doing my best not to jostle her and wake her up.

Arriving in front of her tent, I walked inside.

I laid her gently down on the bed and tucked her in with a blanket before I turned to leave.

I lingered at the flap of her tent as I admired her over my shoulder before I finally stepped out.

However long it takes, I would wait forever.