by Nalini Singh
The construction of her and Raphael’s Enclave home was no longer a priority, not when so much of the city had been destroyed. For now, they’d live in the Tower and this place full of memories of the Legion would be her greenhouse. “I miss them hanging about just watching,” she said as she gently removed the seedling from the pot.
“Do you think we have solved their riddle? Do we know the full meaning of aeclari?”
Seedling freed from the pot, Elena held it cupped in her hands as she thought. Of the Legion’s age. Of their innocence. Of their knowledge. Of how they were of life, of growing green things and—
Her mouth dropped open.
Tilting back her head, she stared . . . at the seedling that was shooting up and up. Raphael had to remove it from her hands and put it in the ground. The two of them sat there in silence, as the seedling turned into a tall rose bush filled with glorious blooms the color of fresh blood.
Petals floated down from above, heavy with scent and soft as velvet.
And in Elena’s nascent wings arced the dawnlight lightning.
Closing her eyes, she fell back on the grass and let the petals fall over her. When they stopped, it was because an archangel with eyes as blue as Arctic ice was leaning over her, his wing spread in a magnificence of white gold, and there, around the gunshot scar on the underside, a burst of midnight and dawn. The rest of his feathers had returned to their usual shade, but the kiss of mortality remained around that one spot.
She brushed her fingers over it.
Hair darker than the heart of night fell over his forehead as he lowered his lips to her own. They kissed under a soft rain of petals that was a thing of life, of growth, of beauty in terrible darkness. The world was badly wounded, bleeding in many places, vampires had begun to stir in bloodlust, and the Cadre had two Ancients who didn’t wish to be awake, as well as a new archangel wholly untrained for her duties.
It was one hell of a mess.
And yet . . . “Architects, builders, growers,” she whispered against Raphael’s lips. “We can snatch life out of the horror.”
His mouth curved into a sinful, youthful smile he gave no one else. “Careful, Elena-mine. You do not wish to tempt the super-parasite.”
Slapping her hands on his chest, she glared. “I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap.”
He laughed, her archangel strong and beautiful and deadly . . . and a little bit mortal, the laughter yet in his taste when he kissed her again. The last thing she saw before she fell into him, into love, were petals the color of fresh blood lying on his wing . . . and the glitter of life in the Legion mark on his temple.
Aeclari.
About the Author
Nalini Singh is the New York Times bestselling author of the Guild Hunter series, which includes most recently, Archangel's Prophecy. She is also the author of the Psy-Changeling novels including Ocean Light, Silver Silence, and Allegiance of Honor.
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