Wish (The Onyx Mist Series Book 1): A Dark Fantasy Romance Series by Sara Flanagan

Author:Sara Flanagan [Flanagan, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-10-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 36

Zadriel

“We’re almost there, Mora. I’ll need to put you down. Support your arm as best you can.”

Mora nodded against Zadriel’s shoulder, her chest rising and falling slowly with each pained breath. He found himself holding her tighter. Dreading the pain he’d see on her face when he moved her.

The night was a quiet one, though he’d purposely crept around the back of Andras’s house to avoid unwanted attention. Thankfully his kind was quiet by nature—it had never been difficult, hiding in the shadows and making little noise. It made him a decent spy. Something Cillian put to use centuries ago.

When he reached the oak tree, he felt his muscles relax. Took the first deep breath he’d taken in gods knew how long. Cool evening air filled his lungs and his pounding heart slowed. Slightly.

Zadriel rounded the tree so they faced away from prying eyes. Arcadia loomed in the distance, her song curling in the breeze and tugging on his heart. He closed himself off to it, as he often did, and focused on placing Mora down with as much care as possible. It was the same tree he’d brought her to when she was drunk. A great oak whose long branches stretched into a wide, protective canopy. The one place that felt like home in Eden.

He couldn’t think of a better spot to take her.

As he laid Mora against a groove in the trunk, the roots groaned. They stretched and moved out of the way—not for him but for her—adjusting so she could rest more comfortably. Zadriel’s midnight gaze returned to her face.

Did you see that, Little Witch?

But Mora hadn’t opened her eyes.

He took a slow breath and unclenched his jaw. The tree’s reaction shouldn’t have surprised him, but it reignited an old ache in his chest... and reminded him of the hatred he’d convinced himself he felt for her all these centuries.

It's not her fault. Cillian did this. Made you do this.

Zadriel shook his head, hating the memory. He could still smell the sweet scent wafting in the air with all that black smoke. Taste the ash on his tongue. He took another slow breath, hating that he shuddered.

Mora leaned into the tree’s embrace, a sheen of sweat beading on her forehead.

“Would you like some water?” he asked.

“Please.”

When he bent down to move a few leaves away, more roots shifted to help. His lips quirked upward as he pulled out the cowhide flask he kept hidden there. Zadriel twisted the wooden cork loose and tossed it to the earth before kneeling in front of her and lifting the flask to her lips.

“Drink, Little Witch,” he said gently. Mora nodded, and he slowly tipped the container, careful not to give her too much.

When she pulled away, he looked down at her hands and the gore staining her fingers. There was no way he could draw them into his lap and clean them without hurting her. This night was going to be long if he didn’t help ease the pain.

Zadriel bit his lip, weighing his options.

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