Revolution (The Revelation Series Book 4)

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Revolution (The Revelation Series Book 4) Page 11

by Randi Cooley Wilson


  After a length of silence, she gives me her version of an apology. “If you ever stab, drug, or purposely hurt a member of this family or our race again, I will not hesitate to end your existence. Future queen or not, I’ll hand you over to Lucifer myself. Am I clear, blood of Eden?” She holds my eyes and waits for my answer.

  “We’re clear, Kenna.”

  She nods once and storms out of the training room with Keegan and Abby trailing her. I exhale and turn to face the rest of the room, who are watching me with caution.

  “The lightning bolts are fucking cool, cutie,” Callan exclaims.

  “Glad you think so, because they hurt.”

  Callan throws the bag of marshmallows at me. “Time for s’mores, Eves,” he says.

  I scrunch my nose catching the bag. “Really?”

  “Don’t judge, human,” he pouts.

  “You seriously need to come with a warning label,” I tease.

  “You alright, Eve?” Uriel’s eyes fall to where McKenna shot the light back into me. There are two burn holes in my shirt, exposing the skin right above my breasts.

  “Ah, I’m good.” I turn to Asher who’s looking at me like he wants to eat me for lunch.

  “That was fucking hot, siren,” Asher says with a cocky grin.

  “Hot or not, it is not a divine gift, nor one from the protectors,” Uriel’s voice interjects.

  “Then where did it come from?” Asher questions.

  “I have a theory. Anyone up for a little trip?” Uriel asks, amused.

  “Always!” Callan says with excitement.

  “Then we leave in an hour. Eve, I suggest a new shirt. Oh, and dress warmly,” Uriel says.

  “Wait. Where are we going?” I ask.

  “The Ice Catacombs. I do believe there is a demigoddess we need to speak with,” the archangel offers with a wink before walking toward the door.

  “Noooo,” Callan whines. “I hate winter. It’s so cold and snowy. I’m sitting this one out.”

  “You know for a protector, you certainly dislike a lot of things. Snow. Elves,” I point out.

  Callan takes a defensive stance. “Hey, elves are freaky. Something is wrong there.”

  “We’ll just take Gage and Nassa instead,” Asher says.

  Callan places a hand on Asher’s chest. “Oh no, brother. You know the new rules. A clan member needs to be present on these outings. We aren’t comfortable with Gage and Nassa, let alone Stabby McGee over here,” he says, flicking a thumb at me.

  “First, don’t ever call me that again. Second, I’m not going to stab him,” I defend.

  Callan arches an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

  “No,” I state, my voice raising an octave at the accusation.

  “He’s blood and I consider it a thousand times a day,” Callan throws back.

  “I think I can restrain myself,” I respond.

  A smirk ticks up at the corner of Asher’s beautiful mouth. His gaze travels over my face and a heated stare lands on my exposed skin, causing a shiver of pleasure to roll through me.

  “Is that so, siren?”

  My eyes narrow in speculation. “Can you?”

  “No. I can’t,” he deadpans.

  My stomach flips at his answer. “Callan, you and Abby are coming with us.”

  Callan groans before shouting, startling Asher and I, who are in our own little world. “Abby! I need my North Face shit, woman!” he yells, leaving the training area.

  “Abby is going to kill him for that.”

  Asher smirks back. “No doubt, siren. No doubt.”

  ***

  The empty sky is the palest blue I’ve ever seen. It stretches long and wide, reaching the far apex of eternity. My breaths come out in smoky plumes and the ice pathway cracks under the weight of my fur boots as we follow Uriel through the frozen pathway cut into a mountain.

  The buttery yellow sunrays reflect off the ice cascading like waterfalls down large rock cliffs. The granite walls are so tall their peaks are lost to view. Each creamy beam of light bouncing off the frozen water illuminates the aquamarine hidden behind a snowy white coating.

  I’ve never seen anything like this before. My eyes take in this dimension with wonderment. When I heard ice catacombs, I expected a frozen tundra, but not the beauty that exudes from every nook and cranny here.

  The silence and stillness in the land provides an odd comfort. Through the fur lining on my down hood, I watch Asher and Callan ahead, speaking in hushed voices.

  “Why are they speaking so quietly?” I ask Abby in a muted voice of my own.

  “You must. If you raise your voice, it could set off avalanches,” she whispers.

  “I see.”

  We come to the end of the pathway, and in front of us are about thirty or so stairs made completely of clear ice. I sigh at the sight. Having already hiked for quite a while, my legs ache and the coldness is seeping into my bones, even with all the warm layers I’m wearing.

  “Can’t we fly up there?” I ask. Callan was right. Snow and ice suck.

  Abby giggles. “Eve, if we took our wings out here, they would freeze within seconds.”

  My shoulders fall. “Guess we’re climbing then.”

  Hours later we reach the pinnacle of the crystal staircase, only to be met with miles of more winter. All that’s visible is a land completely iced over. It’s just one big crystal glacier.

  “Holy shit,” Callan exhales. “Have I mentioned how much I hate winter?”

  Abby slides up to him. “Almost there, baby.”

  “I’m never making snow cones again for this clan,” he sulks and follows Uriel.

  “You warm enough, siren?” Asher asks from next to me.

  “Yeah, thanks.” I offer a small smile through my facemask. “Who would live here?”

  “Demigods and goddesses,” he replies.

  After what feels like a lifetime, we finally make our way to a large archway, attached to an ice-covered mountain. We enter the hall of ice and are met with warmth and the musical sound of ice crystals clanking together. The delicate chiming echoes off the wintry walls.

  Large white fur rugs run the length of the corridor, making the walk a lot easier than it was on sheets of ice. Each side of the tunnel is lined with frozen dandelions. The white puffs are petrified in a frosty glaze. The seed heads look like tiny slits of fragile mirrors.

  It’s such an odd contradiction, to have something so spring-like as a flower to be so artfully blanketed in crystal coldness.

  Once we’ve completed the journey down the lengthy passageway, we stand in a large, domed room adorned with more white fur rugs. Sunlight pours through the ice on all sides, illuminating the frozen circular space. It’s surprisingly elegant and breathtaking.

  “How dare you show your face here,” an angry female voice booms off the ice.

  We all turn our focus to the most attractively irate woman I have ever seen. She’s poised and tall, radiating elegance. Her skin is so pale it appears to have a slight silver sheen to it.

  The gorgeous creature is flawless, like a porcelain doll. Her floor-length, off the shoulder, fur-lined gown floats dramatically around her, yet clings to every stunning curve of her body.

  Each forearm is adorned with bracelets that start on her middle finger and end at her elbows. The diamonds skillfully entwine to create graceful snowflake patterns. A matching thick necklace adorns her long, elegant neck.

  Though beautiful and stylish, her stance and body language emanate a true warrior, as she stands tall, firm and unaffected by our group’s presence. Her eyes, which are locked on Uriel, are so light grey they’re almost clear.

  Uriel smirks wickedly and places his hands up in a surrendering motion. Odd. The divine angel doesn’t back down under the weight of her icy glare.

  “Zyla, my love, is this any way to welcome us to The Ice Catacombs?” he cajoles.

  Zyla’s lips purse as she points a finger at Uriel. Her aquamarine nails match her lip color.


  “Say one more word, Uriel, and I will introduce you to a new understanding of blue balls,” she warns in a booming voice, causing the ice to rattle. Awkward.

  “Are you threatening to freeze my manhood, goddess?” Uriel teases.

  “What manhood? You’re a backstabbing man whore.” Well then, guess she’s not a fan.

  The divine angel takes a step toward her. Brave.

  “My love, you speak to a warrior, and son, of Heaven in this manner?” he seduces.

  “Don’t you ‘my love’ me. Do you think you can discontinue my anger with sweet talk? What the hell do you want, archangel?” She seethes and flicks her shoulder-length, white-blonde hair, highlighted with the same aquamarine coloring as her lips and nails over her delicate, bare shoulder.

  “I came for insight,” the archangel states calmly. “Understanding that only the demigoddess of protection can provide.”

  10 Darkened Skies

  WITHOUT WARNING, THE FROZEN GROUND SHAKES, increasing the chiming of the crystal icicles as they clank together. Asher grabs my waist in an attempt to keep me from slipping and falling.

  “YOU WHAT?” the majestic goddess shouts. “After your indiscretion, you dare come here, into my home, asking a deity for wisdom. You are truly an arrogant bastard, Uriel.”

  “I realize I left on…rather unfriendly terms the last time we saw one another. But I assure you, my love, that was my mistake, not yours,” the heavenly warrior states.

  “Sleeping with my sister, Khione, was a mistake? Tell me, Uriel, did you accidentally trip and fall on top of her?” Zyla asks with an incredulous tone. This isn’t going to end well.

  “The goddess of snow was spirited in her pursuit. As you know, my love, I have no self-control, and she has no boundaries,” he pleads. “I can assure you, it won’t happen again.”

  “No, it won’t. Boreas sent her to Hyperborea.” Zyla smirks in victory.

  Uriel’s face remains emotionless but the small tick on his right eye lets me know he’s not happy about this news. “I had no idea your father could be so cruel,” he says.

  The regal goddess shrugs. “He has a temper, a well-known fact amongst deities.”

  “Temperamental disposition or not, Hyperborea is no place for nymphs,” Uriel retorts.

  Next to me, Asher chuckles and I turn my head to give him a pointed look.

  “What are you snickering at?” I whisper shout.

  “It’s just funny that Uncle Urie couldn’t resist the advances of a nymph,” he says.

  My eyes roll eyes. “I wouldn’t talk. You couldn’t keep it in your pants around a nymph either.” I shake my head at the reminder of Asher seeing a celestial nymph, Hesperia.

  Apparently, she was so enticing, Callan had to bet Asher to stop sleeping with her. Asher lost the wager and ended up with his apravada piercing.

  “Damn nymphs,” I unknowingly say out loud.

  My voice registers with the goddess. Startled, she pulls her gaze from Uriel and scans the group, realizing for the first time, he isn’t alone.

  “Who are you?” she demands in a formal, slightly accented voice. Perhaps, Scandinavian, but I can’t be sure.

  I prepare my answer as Uriel steps to my side, placing an arm around my shoulder. “Zyla, demigoddess of protection, may I introduce my niece, Eve Collins, daughter of Heaven.”

  Zyla’s chin lifts and her expression softens as realization sinks in of who I am. “You are Michael and Elizabeth’s child?” the goddess confirms in an authoritative manner.

  I nod once. “I am,” I respond, ignoring the scratchiness in my throat. This is the first time I’ve acknowledged them as my biological parents. “These are my protectors,” I say, motioning to Callan, Abby, and Asher.

  She inhales delicately and lands a harsh gaze on Asher. “The gargoyle princes’ scent is all over you. He’s not your protector but your mate. I don’t take kindly to being lied to.”

  “My love, she’s a human child, who is unfamiliar with our world. She meant no disrespect. Isn’t that right, Eve,” Uriel prompts, squeezing my shoulder affectionately.

  “I apologize. I didn’t realize I needed to introduce him to you in that manner,” I offer.

  “I am a demigoddess, human child, respect and a sense of proper etiquette are protocol,” Zyla snips before returning her gaze to Uriel. “Although, with your uncle’s blood running through you, I can see how you would be uneducated on how to treat a goddess.” Ouch.

  “Zyla-,” Uriel starts but she cuts him off.

  “Look at her, Urie. She is no warrior. I’m beside myself and beyond appalled that Michael would even claim her. When you came to me all those years ago, I was under the impression she would be more…” Her eyes shift to me, and then back to the archangel. “Divine.”

  My gaze meets Asher’s before turning back to the ice princess. “I am standing right here.”

  She flicks her cool eyes at me and narrows her lids. “So you are.”

  “You just insulted me,” I counter.

  “Then we’re even, human child.”

  “Ladies.” The divine warrior steps between us. “Let us refocus on the real reason why we’re are here, shall we?”

  “Fine,” Zyla and I say in unison.

  “When I did come to you all those years ago, I asked you to grant the child the gift of protection in the event the Angelic Council turned Michael down. Eve has come into an ability that is neither divine, nor protector. I was curious to see if it was yours, and if so, perhaps you could shed some insight as to how she can wield it,” he explains.

  Zyla straightens her spine and inclines her head to me. “What is the gift?”

  “Light,” Uriel states.

  Zyla turns back to Uriel. “When the child was born, and the divine turned their heads, the deities agreed to allow me to offer her protection. Since the child was an unknown entity, I tied the gift to her divine ascension. The ability to use light was designed to trigger when she fully ascended. If her soul is truly pure, then the light shall protect her from all darkness.”

  “That was most generous of you, my love,” Uriel whispers and Zyla’s face softens.

  “The Gods do not get involved in matters of divinity or rebellion from the dark army. We also don’t protect humans. I did this for you, Urie, and only for you,” she states.

  “Thank you, my love,” Uriel exhales.

  “The deities gave Eve the gift of light transfer?” Asher confirms.

  After a few moments, Zyla pulls her gaze from the divine warrior and shifts it to Asher.

  “A human child, even one with divine gifts, cannot be expected to redeem mankind and stand against darkness on her own. Wouldn’t you agree, dark prince?” she questions.

  “So my light…” I look to the demigoddess for clarification.

  “Ends darkness,” she finishes.

  “What is the best way for Eve to wield the light energy?” Uriel asks.

  “Like any true goddess or divine being, she wills it, and it manifests. It’s designed to protect her. She, and only she, controls and calls on it in times of need,” the goddess adds.

  “True goddess or divine being,” I repeat. “You say that as if I’m destined for greatness.”

  “We’re all capable of great things, if we allow ourselves,” Zyla enlightens. “Even humans.” Her nose turns up as if she’s smelled something rotten.

  Uriel walks over to the demigoddess and gently takes her cheeks in his hands before placing a feather-like kiss on her lips. “Thank you, for protecting what’s mine.”

  “You have my heart, Urie. I’m simply protecting what’s mine,” she says with adoration.

  “Sadly, my love, I must leave you and finish my assignment until Michael returns. When he does, I will be back. Keep my spot warm for me,” he whispers in a tender tone.

  “I will,” the deity agrees.

  “Does this mean I am forgiven?” Uriel asks with a light tone.

  “No. That said I’m sure you will enj
oy your punishment.” Her voice is suggestive.

  The archangel releases a light chuckle. “That I shall, my love. I always do.”

  “Enjoy babysitting your human niece.” The goddess of protection laughs lightly. “There’s something I never thought I would say to my archangel lover.” Oh. My. God. What the fuck is wrong with supernatural beings? No. Filter.

  “I’ll return soon,” Uriel vows and provides Zyla one last kiss before she turns to me.

  “The deities bid you, and your protectors, victory.”

  ***

  Amber ribbons of heat intertwine as the fire crackles and snaps. The sparks jump and dance, almost as if they’re alive. I watch in awe at the flickering light climbs inside the hearth. Fire has this magical, hypnotic pull that lures you in and makes you wish you could shine and warm the world, the way flames do.

  “Warming up?” Asher asks as he takes a seat next to me and hands me a cup of cocoa.

  “I feel silly. It’s spring and yet, I’m freezing.” I smirk and shiver for effect. “Let’s not go back to The Ice Catacombs anytime soon, okay?”

  “Deal. I do know some ways we could warm up.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  I just stare at Asher for a moment, appreciating how beautiful and dark he is. After a few minutes, a smirk ticks up at the corner of his mouth. “See something you like, siren?”

  “I see you,” I whisper.

  The heat of Asher’s penetrating stare causes an awareness everywhere his gaze traces along my body. The palpable tension between us pulls me deeper into the invisible string that tethers us. It wasn’t that long ago that he promised to catch me if I fell. Well, I’ve fallen.

  When he slowly leans in, I stop breathing all together, his lips a breath from mine.

  “Is that all you want me for, siren? My body?” he teases but his expression turns vulnerable, twisting my heart.

  “Your body. Your mind. Your soul. I want it all, Ash. But most of all, I want your forgiveness.” I keep my eyes trained on his and gradually lean toward his heart.

  Once I reach my destination, I place a soft kiss over the rapidly beating organ. Over the protector tattoo infused with my blood. Over the scar from when he was stabbed while saving me from Dimia. Over the wound I inflicted when I betrayed him.

 

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