39

Andromeda woke to the crash of thunder. Naasir was already awake. Lying on his back, one of his arms curved around her as she used his shoulder for a pillow, he was petting her wing as he watched the lightning storm beyond the window. The strikes glittered as bright as Naasir’s hair, no rain to soften their harsh brilliance.

“How long did we sleep?” she asked, snuggling closer to the furnace-like warmth of his body.

“It’s early morning.” A boom of thunder almost drowned out his words.

“I’ve never seen the sky that color.” A dark, roiling purple that threw shadows on the earth and sparked with shards of lightning. “It’s beautiful.” As wild as the chimera who held her so affectionately. “This must be the same storm that’s already covered the rest of the world.”

“I didn’t say anything in front of Tarek, but Raphael can fly above lightning.”

Andromeda’s eyes widened. “Yes, no archangel should’ve had any problem avoiding it.” Yet, unless something had changed in the night, neither Raphael, nor Lijuan, nor Favashi had made it here. That wasn’t coincidence. “It’s said that when an archangel ascends, the world changes in inexplicable ways. It might be the same for the waking of an Ancient.”

“This lightning isn’t normal,” Naasir agreed. “Caliane’s waking was violent, but not to this extent.”

“Alexander was a general, Caliane an angel known for her grace and her song.”

“She’s also a trained warrior who rose to protect her son,” Naasir reminded her. “I think the Cascade must be getting stronger.”

Hairs rising on the back of her neck at what that might mean, Andromeda shivered. “The good news is that I don’t think Lijuan would risk her noncorporeal form to a strike.”

Naasir’s chest rumbled under her hand. “Perhaps the storm will do the world a favor and burn Lijuan from existence.”

Both of them conscious such a gift was unlikely, they lay in silence until Andromeda said, “Do you remember being two before you became one?” It didn’t seem wrong to ask about that here, not with the ferocity of nature so close.

“Yes. The human boy played with the tiger cub.” His words held a smile. “They were best friends in a place with no other living beings but Osiris and the wolves he kept as pets . . . and when Osiris forced them into one, the friendship between boy and cub kept the chimera I became stable.”

Six thousand dead. The cub and the boy could’ve been two more casualties . . . and she might’ve never known Naasir.

Violently repudiating the thought, she listened to his heart, and she reminded herself he was very much strong and alive.

“The two parts didn’t fight for supremacy but worked together for survival,” he added, his arm tightening around her. “It’s why my form isn’t twisted or crippled. And now, there is only one. I am me. I am Naasir.”

The simplicity of his declaration made it all the more powerful. “Did you choose your name?” There was no doubt in her mind that even if Osiris had called him by a name, it wasn’t one Naasir would’ve kept.

“No,” he told her. “Dmitri gave it to me, in honor of a friend who perished in a battle where he saved Dmitri’s life.” Unhidden emotion in his tone. “I’m proud to bear it, to know Dmitri always believed I would do justice to such an honorable name—and that I would be strong enough to make it my own.”

“No one can dispute that,” Andromeda said. “You are Naasir, a legend across continents and through time.” Under her hand, she felt the formation of a layer of fur so fine and so soft that she couldn’t see it, only feel the texture. What she could see were the tiger stripes on his skin. Rising on her elbow beside him, she whispered, “I am so happy to know you.”

He bared his teeth at her. “What secrets are you keeping from me?”

“I’ll tell you after the dinner at my parents’ estate. You’ll still come?” The question held an edge of desperation she hoped he didn’t hear.

“I’ve been thinking of a gift for your parents,” he said in response, his tone solemn. “When I was in New York, I saw a television show about dolls that look human and are fully anatomically correct. They would be the perfect tireless concubines.”

Snorting with laughter, she tried to appear stern. “Don’t you dare.”

His grin was unrepentant. “I gave Ellie a carnivorous plant. She liked it.”

“Should I be jealous?” She’d heard how he spoke about his sire’s consort—with admiration and affection both.

Quicksilver fast, he tugged her down with a grip in her hair, holding her so close that she could count each individual lash over his eyes. “Elena is Raphael’s consort and a sparring partner for me.” His voice had fallen into the guttural range. “She is not you. No one will ever be what you are to me.”

Her heart broke. Into a million tiny pieces.

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