“Look into your future, young Aodhan, and ask yourself if you want to hold on—or set him free. Because if he is like Sharine, then he won’t let go even if you hurt him—not unless you do an act of cruelty akin to Aegaeon’s. My friend’s heart is too generous and it’s a beautiful flaw that she’s bestowed onto her son.”
“Eh-ma has changed,” he pointed out.
“Yes.” Caliane’s smile held pure delight. “She is glorious, is she not? It gives me much pleasure to watch her confound Titus and even more pleasure to see her bloom ever brighter. But I think her boy walks a different path.”
Her smile faded, and she patted a good-bye to the horse, who ambled off to rejoin his brethren. “I would be sad to see his joy diminished—but at times, a short, sharp pain is better than drawn-out suffering.” She looked up at the canopy, a woman astonishing in her beauty, her eons of life a pressure against his skin, and her insight an echo in his head.
When she spread her wings, he said nothing, just watched her rise into the air . . . and he thought of Illium, and of the brutal collision of their competing needs. Could Aodhan let him go? Did he want to let him go?
“No.” A single hard word. Because Illium was the most important person in Aodhan’s universe, a man without whom Aodhan’s future would be a desolate wasteland. Even at his angriest and most distant, he’d never imagined eternity without Illium.
But his wasn’t the only heart on the line. For that was the other question Lady Caliane had asked of him: Did Aodhan need to let Illium go for Illium’s sake?
He shuddered, his wings drooping to scrape the damp, snow-dusted forest floor.
Who’d look out for Illium if Aodhan wasn’t there? Who’d hold him when no one else even knew he was hurting? Who’d cherish him for both his gifts and his flaws?
No, Aodhan had to figure a way forward into a future where neither one of them ended up fractured and lost.
Time passes like an inexorable river, bringing change with it.
—Archangel Suyin
51
Illium ran into Kai on his way back from the beach, where he and Smoke had gone for an early morning amble to shake themselves awake. Caught up in the endless work of building a new citadel—and using the work to stop missing Aodhan so much—he hadn’t had a chance to speak to her except for the odd fleeting greeting.
The morning light was a glow behind her, and she had a brightness to her step, her smile pure happiness. His heart hurt, she reminded him so much of Kaia, young and awash in a vivid delight in life.
“Illium,” she said, a small basket held to her side. “You’ve been to the water?”
Illium inclined his head, and as he did so, he caught the haunted, besotted look shot Kai’s way by a young man unloading equipment to the right. “An admirer?” he asked gently.
Her eyes sparkled. “He has asked me to be his wife. We’ve known each other many years.” Affection, perhaps even love in her tone . . . and yet Illium knew that he could have her if he pushed the merest fraction.
It had nothing to do with ego. It was the fact he was an angel. There were very few mortal women who’d turn down an angel. He could have her, and perhaps, if she proved compatible with the toxin that turned mortals into vampires, she could be forever by his side. If not, he could still cherish her for all her mortal years, their lives entwined and memories of shared joy her legacy.
But when Kai smiled and walked off to join her admirer, Illium didn’t stop her. The mortal male’s relief was a dazzling gratefulness, his love for Kai a shining glow, and Illium could’ve told himself that he’d chosen the noble path—but it was far more complicated than that.
Bending down, he petted Smoke, then the two of them headed off to breakfast.
He was still chewing over his reaction to Kai’s new love when he got stuck into the work—while Smoke, healthy and sleek, prowled away to do things feline and secret. She was a smart kitten, didn’t bother with the building site. Quite unlike a couple of the other pets, who’d had to be corralled in a safe zone after they kept on getting underfoot.
As one of the most powerful people in the area and one who’d helped rebuild Raphael’s Tower, Illium was in constant demand. Not only for physical labor, but to consult on structural issues—he was no architect or engineer, but he did have information on new building materials and methods that Suyin appreciated as she slowly rebuilt her own knowledge.
He was also good at sweet-talking outside suppliers over the phone, and using salvaged computer systems to track down useful items that might be stored in warehouses within a doable flight distance. The most useful computer was a laptop Aodhan had picked up from the main office in Lijuan’s central stronghold. It contained within it access passwords to Lijuan’s entire administrative network.