I wondered how were we supposed to get a feather? Pluck it from his...wings? That sounded painful.

My gaze slid to the floor-to-ceiling window. I could tell by the bright sunlight seeping under the blinds that it at least had to be late morning or afternoon.

While sleeping the day away sounded marvelous, I needed to get up. There was a lot of stuff to do, starting with the Crone and ending with Gabriel.

Yawning, I stretched and my cheeks flushed in response to the dull twinge in certain areas. Last night had been beautiful and perfect and—

A scream from the living room jarred me out of the pleasant, sleepy haze. I jerked upright and twisted at the waist, blurry eyes searching for my daggers as my grace pulsed in my chest.

“Oh my God!” came a high-pitched, feminine shriek.

Recognizing the sound of Danika’s voice, my heart slowed. Crap. We’d forgotten to call and give them more details. Guilt surfaced. They were very much Zayne’s family and time should’ve been made. We’d just been so caught up in one another and in the joy of being reunited, we hadn’t thought about anyone else.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. We’d discussed Gabriel and Lucifer briefly.

Shifting toward the side of the bed, I happened to glance down. The sheet had slipped, baring my chest. I froze on the edge of the bed, feet settling against the cool hardwood.

“What in the world?” I whispered.

The mark I’d seen on my chest when I’d showered had darkened to a dusty pink. I gently touched the straight line between my breasts, just above my stomach. It was slightly raised, like a welt. At the ends of the line, where it had looked like blemishes the night before, there was now a clear, shaded circle at one end and another at the other end that wasn’t filled in.

I had no idea what could’ve caused that, but the skin didn’t hurt. It had to be some kind of scratch.

There was a burst of laughter from the living room, drawing my attention. Pushing aside the strange mark, I scrambled from the bed before someone opened the door. Though I doubted Zayne would allow that. Snatching another long, dark tunic tank top, clean leggings and underclothing, I hurried into the bathroom. I didn’t bother with a shower, just brushed my teeth, scrubbed my face until it was pink and, after a quick comb, tucked my hair into a bun that was sure to unravel within the hour.