At that moment of great loss, a scream of agony explodes from my throat, shooting into the vast chasm of The Far Place. I don’t expect anyone to listen, or to care—but despite that, they do. And my power—my power—ruptures the very fabric of the realm.

35. Abaddon

35

Abaddon

Light.

It swirls all around me in a tornado of raw, electric energy, seeping beneath my skin and breathing life to the nerve endings and pathways in my mind that have been sleeping for decades. The magic spreads, shuddering through the open air and staining the clouds in brilliant hues of shimmering amber. Lightning strikes the center of my chest, shocking my heart into motion, and I can’t ignore the pull any longer.

I wake.

A thunderous whoosh breaks the silence as my wings snap out, spreading proudly and soaking up the warmth of the silver sun. My shoulder muscles quiver as they sweep downward in a powerful arc, propelling my body high above the cloudline and into the upper atmosphere.

Shimmering light beams from my skin, pulsing from my open mouth and coating my vision in a film of gold as I continue rising—not knowing where I’m going or why, just that I need to fly, to soar, to feel the whipping wind against my skin.

As the atmosphere thins and the roar in my ears turns to a whine, I stall my ascent, closing my eyes and reveling in the stillness and silence. My wings beat the air, keeping me aloft and allowing me to breathe, to clear my mind—to think.

But before I get the chance, a piercing cry breaks the hush, drawing my attention toward the horizon and shattering the moment of tranquility.

Several miles in the distance, dark spots swarm the skies, blocking out the light of the sun with the sheer breadth and size of the massive force—thousands of screaming, bloodthirsty soldiers and soul-crazed demons flying toward me at full speed.

While I know I should care about them, I can’t find it within me to do so. I’m far too preoccupied with something else, something that’s been niggling in the back of my mind since I awoke. Memories.

Images and flashing pictures flood my mind—twenty-one years of thoughts and feelings and precious moments I missed, moments taken from me. Stolen from me.

The bond tugs in my chest, pulling my attention to the ground. A dark swirling mist rises above the canopy, filled with enough pain and misery to cleave the skies and tilt the world on its head.

Mate.

The air around me stills, charged with the magnetic energy humming from the center of my chest, urging me to investigate despite the approaching horde.