Eternity (Wings of War Book 4)

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  When I began to speak, my voice cracked and I paused. The loss Insepth and I were feeling was nothing compared to what poor Ivan was experiencing. He’d spent most of his life in wolf form and now it was forever lost to him.

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea this would happen if we succeeded.” I put my hand on his chest. “I’m no longer a Watcher, and neither is Insepth.”

  “The Demon has left me as well,” Horas chimed in. He shook hands with Insepth, who slapped him on the back, and pulled me into a quick hug with his one free hand. When he stepped back his eyes twinkled. “I can’t say as I miss my former self. I’ll have to get used to surviving only on human food, instead of the souls of convicts and predators, and the other limitations, but it’s a small price to pay for freedom after a thousand years of servitude to the Dark One.”

  “I wasn’t sure about Demons. I was afraid you’d be pulled into Hell with the rest of the Hell beasts,” I admitted, taking a seat beside Tamira. She smiled and looked away, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap.

  “That was probably the fate of many of my kind, but I’m proof that those of us who tried to live as morally correct a life as possible, could find redemption in the end.” He returned to his stump, and Insepth picked up a stick and squatted beside the fire, pushing the burning logs around.

  I sat straighter and glanced around. “Where’s Lutz?”

  Horas and Ivan exchanged glances. It was Ivan who answered me. “When it happened, Lutz was in bear form and that’s how he stayed.” When my mouth dropped, he quickly added, “He lives in the woods like an ordinary bear now. He can’t mind speak anymore, and ignores me when I follow him.” He shrugged and smiled a little. “He’s happy, though. I’m sure of that. He liked being a bear more than a man.”

  “The same happened to Cricket,” I said in a weak voice.

  Silence hung over the clearing. Even the breeze quieted. The birds stopped singing and the trees sighed.

  Horas cleared his throat, interrupting the melancholy, and turned his sharp gaze on me. “How did this come to be? Forgive my impatience, but the day we all changed,” he motioned to Ivan and Tamira, “was sudden and quite dramatic.”

  Insepth continued to push the firewood around and nodded for me to tell the story. A quiver raced through me as I thought back on my arrival in the city. Maybe in time I’d share all the details, but not at this moment. I didn’t want to mar our reunion with too much talk of the sinister things Insepth and I had seen.

  “It was like the vision Youmi showed us. People became evil, crawling creatures. Beasts and hounds flooded out of a chasm that opened in the river. The humans fought back, firing missiles into the city, but they weren’t powerful enough against Samael and his Dark Angels.” I closed my eyes, remembering the chaos in the skies above Cincinnati. “It was awful. Buildings exploded and fires burned in the streets. Eae found us in the wreckage and saved us.” I looked up. Horas and Ivan were wide eyed and even Tamira had perked up and was staring.

  “He had three little kids with him, and just as we were changed, so was he. He got his wings back.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Horas said.

  “So he’s a real Angel again?” Ivan asked.

  I rubbed Angus’ head and he whined, flopping down on my feet. “I don’t think he ever stopped being an Angel.”

  Ivan nodded. “Did you destroy Samael?”

  I smiled. “I tried, I really did. But he was too powerful for me and Insepth. War and Conquest put up a good fight, too, but it wasn’t them, either.” Seeing Horas open his mouth, I intercepted his question. “They returned to the stars. At least that’s what God said.”

  Horas’ hands went up. “You talked to God?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll tell you about that later.” The sun disappeared behind the mountain and the air turned crisp. I leaned closer to the fire, holding my hands above the glorious warmth. I knew what would happen if I lowered them into the flames, but I was still tempted to do it to see if the fire would really burn me. That too was something to save for later. I looked up and everyone was watching me, even Insepth.

  “It was Chumana who arrived and took Samael back to his prison in Hell. She picked him up with her clawed foot like she was scooping a fish out of a pond.”

  “And that ended the war?” Horas asked.

  I shook my head and tears welled in my eyes. I wiped the wetness away with my sleeve and swallowed down the pain that had been shredding my heart.

  “It seemed God needed proof of our worthiness—the descendants of Angels. It wasn’t until Sawyer, a Demon in Samael’s army, sacrificed himself for me that He was finally convinced. The Apocalypse ended because Sawyer loved me.”

  With a heavy sigh, Horas leaned back, and Ivan dropped his head into his hands.

  “I knew deep down Sawyer wasn’t evil. He came through in the end, saving us all,” Ivan said.

  Angus whimpered and I stroked his broad head, tilting my face to the heavens. Snowflakes began falling from the sky, one by one at first, and feathery soft. The cold taps felt good on my skin.

  “It’s snowing,” Tamira muttered.

  Ivan put his arm around her and she snuggled in deeper against him. Silence blanketed the forest as the snow fell harder and the fire sizzled. Sawyer had talked about spending a cozy winter together in Ila’s cabin. It was something I didn’t dare look forward to. From the beginning, I feared our love story would end tragically—and it had. I’d lost my love, but Sawyer had died so that I could live and I wouldn’t squander his sacrifice. As difficult as it was, I had to move on and survive in this new world without magic and prophecies—without my guardian by my side.

  I drew in a breath of cold, clean air. “Is anyone hungry?”

  Ivan grinned. “I’m starving,” he said quickly, dodging Tamira’s hand as she swatted at him.

  “You’re always hungry,” she teased.

  “Some things never change.” Horas stood. “I’ll see what kind of supper I can scrounge up from the storeroom.”

  I rose with him. “What will you do with your new life?” I asked Horas.

  Snowflakes peppered his black, wavy hair and his eyes became dreamy. “I wish to travel the world—only this time I’ll see it from the eyes of a humble, good man, instead of a monster.” He snorted lightly. “Who knows, perhaps I’ll meet a beautiful woman who will enjoy the adventure with me.”

  “I want this to be your second home, Horas. You’re always welcome,” I said with a heavy spirit.

  “I am glad for that. I have become quite fond of these mountains, and those that live here.” His eyes glistened and he looked away, clucking to Angus. “Come, Angus. I believe there’s a bowl of dog food waiting for you.”

  My dog looked up at me for approval and I motioned with my hand for him to go with Horas. He bounded into the darkness of the trees with the former Demon behind him.

  “There was something I wanted to talk to you about,” Ivan said. He pressed his ball cap down further on his head and shifted on his feet.

  I became worried, my brows furrowing.

  He inhaled and rushed the words out. “I would like to stay here in the valley with Tamira. We can build our own cabin and we’ll help you care for the animals and do any work you need. Please don’t make us leave.”

  I reached out and took both Ivan’s and Tamira’s hands. “Of course you can stay! I would be heartbroken if you left.”

  Tamira cried and Ivan smiled widely. “This makes me very happy. We are still a pack, and should stay together.”

  “I agree,” I said, grinning back at him.

  “Thank you,” Tamira whispered when she hugged me. “We will be like sisters—I know it.”

  I nodded toward the path leading to the cabin. “Horas could probably use your help.”

  Ivan glanced at Insepth and back at me. “Yes, of course. If I am not there, he won’t make enough food.”

  He was beaming as he passed by, dragging a willing Tamira along with him. When
they were gone, I faced Insepth. He was still staring at the dwindling flames. Enough snow had fallen to cover the grass in a thin layer. The ground sparkled in the moonlight.

  “It was good of you to allow them to build their home here. You won’t be alone now.” Insepth stood, raising his gaze.

  My heart pounded and my legs felt weak. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I’d miss Insepth if he left. We had shared so much since we’d met. We’d battled each other, and worked together. I’d seen the softer, less arrogant side of the former Watcher. He loved nature and animals as much as I did. And he was loyal. He had been my mentor and my enemy. We’d shared a couple of passionate kisses when we thought we were about to die. There had been our mutual connection to the earth, and even though I denied it to myself for so long, my Gaia had wanted Insepth more than anyone else, even Sawyer. But now that my elemental powers were gone, did I still have feelings for him? The way my heart was breaking at the thought that he was leaving, said yes.

  “What will you do?” The words came out in a cold puff of air.

  He shrugged “I don’t know. I have no family, and Sir Austin is gone. I’ve had many acquaintances in my life, but few true friends.” He looked up and away. “I count you in that small number.”

  I drew in a deep breath and searched for whatever strength I still had. “Is that what I am to you, just a friend?”

  Insepth stood up and took a step closer—close enough that if he leaned down, he could kiss me.

  He licked his lips. “Sawyer gave his life for you on more than one occasion. He was your guardian and your lover. I saw the passion you had for him. From the first moment I laid eyes on you and felt your Gaia reach out to me, I wanted you for myself. At first, it was more of an acquisition, I admit, but later it turned into so much more. But I knew in my heart that you’d never have the feelings for me that you did for Sawyer.”

  “So the kisses we shared didn’t mean anything to you?”

  “On the contrary! They meant everything to me. But you never would have let them happen if we hadn’t been in near death situations. I fear that you simply felt sorry for me or needed comfort. Being near you without ever having you, especially now that we’re mere humans again, would be torturous. I will not subject myself to that kind of pain.”

  The forest was quiet and cold, and I was filled with sadness. The world hadn’t ended, but so many sacrifices had been made—Sawyer, Ila, Piper, and the magic. It was all gone. I was exhausted. But there was a tiny spark when I looked into Insepth’s hurting eyes—and that feeling gave me hope.

  “What would make you happy, Insepth?” I whispered. Snow fell harder and I shivered, clutching my jacket around me tightly.

  “To remain by your side, if you have feelings for me.” His brows lifted as he searched my eyes. “Could you grow to love me, Ember?”

  My heart swelled. “I already do.”

  Insepth’s lips parted against mine. The kiss was urgent at first, but turned sweeter as snowflakes melted on my nose and his arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his coat and against his muscled chest.

  He broke from the kiss. “And you’re alright with me substituting as father to the child you carry?”

  His words struck my mind with the ferocity a hundred freight trains. Child?

  I tried to pull back, but he held me firmly against him. “Surely you had some inkling.”

  I shook my head and stared at him.

  “I felt the pregnancy a few days ago. It was very early, but it was there. Now that my connection to the earth is gone, I’m not aware of such things—but you should be—if you pay attention to your own body.”

  “I’m having Sawyer’s baby?” I gasped.

  Insepth nodded, a small smile creeping up his lips. “I think he knew—at the end. He sensed it himself.”

  I did it for our family. That’s what Sawyer had said to me when he was dying.

  “He did know—somehow he knew.” My voice cracked.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Insepth said.

  I touched my stomach through my jacket. The pregnancy was bittersweet. The love of my life was dead, but he’d left a part of himself growing inside of me. Sawyer would always be with me. A tear trickled down my cheek that he’d never meet his own child. A thick mist drifted between the trees and the corners of my mouth lifted.

  Maybe he could see, and Ila, too.

  I wiped my cheek and took Insepth’s hand. “I think you’d be a great dad. But are you really all right raising Sawyer’s child?”

  “I’m proud to do so.” He lowered his head and kissed me again. I sighed into his mouth.

  For the first time in so very long, I knew that everything would be okay.

  EPILOGUE

  I lifted my face to the cool breeze as a cluster of golden leaves sprinkled down from the trees into the churning foamy water, spraying the nearest moss-covered boulders. If I closed my eyes, I could picture the day I’d sat on this same boulder and kissed Sawyer for the first time. Years had passed, but butterflies still pelted my insides when I thought about him. It was a sweet-stabbing feeling, and one I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

  A laughing squeal rose above the pounding of the falls. I turned toward the noise and my heart melted. Insepth sat in a pile of leaves beside the creek. In his lap sat a plump baby with curly blond hair and rosy cheeks. Little Ilan, named after my beloved mentor, Ila, clutched two fistfuls of leaves. When the brown-haired toddler ran straight for Insepth, with arms stretched out and his own fists jammed with leaves, he’d toss them at Ilan and my baby boy would squeal with delight.

  “I would think my son would have more stealth,” Ivan said with a chuckle.

  “At least Quintus is quiet, unlike Ilan,” I replied.

  “That is true,” Ivan agreed.

  I faked him with a punch and he ducked away, laughing.

  The wind suddenly gusted, lifting the leaves into the air and scattering them through the forest. I turned my face into the strange breeze, feeling a prickling sensation along the back of my neck. Goosebumps erupted on my arms and my insides buzzed.

  “Do you feel that?” I whispered, not sure why I’d dropped my voice.

  “It’s something I have not felt for a long time,” Ivan admitted, looking around, his eyes searching until he spotted Tamira. She was gathering mushrooms at the base of a large oak tree. I followed the wide trunk into the branches with my own gaze. That’s where I found Violet. She was perched on the widest branch, holding out her sketch pad in front of her. She loved drawing pictures of the trees.

  She was named after Sawyer’s mother, a choice I’d thought would have made him very happy. Her hair was long and dark brown, and strands blew across her face. She was always pushing those tresses back behind her ears, reminding me of her father. Her eyes were wide spaced and shiny, the color of a wintertime blue sky. She was a skinny little thing for a seven year old—not much heavier than her younger brother. And she was a fearless child, always shimmying up trees or coaxing Rhondo next to the rock wall where’d she’d climb onto his back and gallop across the meadow, alongside Cricket, who’d kick up her hooves, seemingly encouraging the child’s wildness.

  My smile deepened as Violet stuck out her tongue in concentration when she stared hard at the waterfall, before she began scribbling in her notepad again. The cabin was full of her artwork—pictures of animals, trees, and the mountains. She had a stubborn streak that she could have inherited from me or Sawyer, and she was special. Not very long ago when I’d tucked her in, she’d told me how she’d talked to a nice old lady and a young, dark-haired man in her dream the night before. They were part of her family she’d said and the very next morning, she’d drawn pictures of them. Sure enough, she’d captured Ila and Sawyer’s appearances perfectly.

  A chill had raced over me and my heart had pounded as I’d held the pictures in my hand. I’d learned anything was possible, and would never say never, but after nearly eight years since
the almost-ending of the world and the loss of my powers, it was difficult to believe in magical visits from the dead in dreams. But I supposed if it were possible for anyone, it would be for my fairy-like child.

  The wind gusted harder and I looked up at the tops of the tall, swaying trees. Clouds moved swiftly through the darkening sky. A jagged streak of lightning sliced the clouds and I heard a rolling rumble.

  “It is a strange storm,” Ivan said, jumping to his feet. He motioned for his wife to come to him, and she grabbed her basket and ran over to us.

  “Violet, climb down!” Insepth called out. He pulled Quintus into his lap beside Ilan, who had his arms wrapped around his daddy’s neck.

  “Do I have to?” Violet whined, closing her notebook and glancing between me and Insepth.

  “Yes, please come down. A storm’s coming and we don’t want to get caught in it,” I shouted over the moaning wind.

  The branches of the old oak tree bent and vibrated, pelting us with dry leaves. I scrambled to my feet and carefully stepped across the boulder, jumping to the ground.

  That’s when a wicked gale blew through the forest, snapping branches and bending saplings to the ground. With horror, I saw a lightning bolt strike out from the clouds, hitting the oak tree that my daughter was in with a sickening, crunching explosion.

  The limb Violet was on snapped, and she tumbled into the air. I screamed and lurched forward, but I was too far away to catch her.

  Maybe it was out of pure instinct or maybe Insepth sensed something. But when that tree broke apart, he thrust his arm out and curled his hand the way he used to do when he summoned the power of the Earth.

  The ground trembled and a nearby poplar tree shifted, bending unnaturally at Insepth’s direction. Its wide, leaf-covered branches came together, catching Violet. The tree gently rolled her onto the ground before straightening back up to return to normal again.

  I covered the distance to my little girl in a few long strides and gathered her into my arms. I pressed my face to hers. “Are you alright?”

  “You’re squeezing me too tight,” she complained.