CHAPTER 1
The Moon
Evie
Opening my eyes in the darkness of the bedroom, the sheer canopy surrounding the bed sparkles with frost. I sit up against the pillows, allowing the silken sheet to slip from me. Reed, sleeping soundly next to me, looks so peaceful…angelic. His dark brown hair is falling over his brow in messy wisps. Reaching out, I smooth his hair lightly away from his face, feeling his warm skin beneath my fingertips. His charcoal-colored angel wing slips forward a little, brushing against my thigh. It, too, is warm against my frigid skin.
Something’s wrong, I shiver, exhaling a breath and seeing it curl into a white current in front of me, as wintery air will do. It’s too cold…Goose bumps rise on my arms as dread runs like icy water through me. Zephyr’s island is located in the South Pacific; it never gets this cold here.
I toss my long, auburn hair over my shoulder and wrap the white sheet securely around my body. I put my bare feet on the teak floorboards, feeling them crackle with cold beneath me. Frosty condensation covers everything in the room, causing surfaces to sparkle eerily in the hazy moonlight from the half-shuttered windows.
Walking slowly to the bedroom door, I turn and go to the front door of our small, beach bungalow. As I open it, black clouds roll and boil toward the cove of Zephyr’s island paradise. My hand clutches the doorframe, watching the ominous storm blowing in. The wind whistles against the feathers of my crimson wings, causing them to ruffle. The palm trees that line the beach are swaying in the breeze as the whitecap water churns against the white sand.
I hear cracking sounds, like someone is walking on ice too thin to sustain weight. A dark figure strides beneath the storm clouds toward me out on the open water. A thin layer of ice forms beneath his feet with each step he takes. Coming closer, the wind carries his sweet, sticky scent to me, covering me like it’s marking me as his. A terrible kind of love swells in my heart—painful and raw—enslaving and cruel.
With slow, obedient steps, I walk toward the water’s edge, feeling powdery, icy sand between my toes. Frigid water laps against my feet, wetting the bottom of my sheet, as I wait for Brennus to come to me. Wearing a dark, perfectly tailored suit, he appears outwardly calm. His steps are unmeasured, strolling over the ice as it continually branches out ahead of each of his strides beneath the wicked sky.
Stopping in front of me, only a breath away, Brennus smiles. He scans every inch of me with his assessing gaze. His black hair, which contrasts starkly with his pale, white skin in the moonlight, doesn’t hide his eyes as they darken with pleasure. “Mo chroí,” he breathes, calling me “my heart.” “Ye seem ta have escaped da fallen aingeals quite well.”
I nod numbly, whispering, “You survived, too, I see.” There is fear and relief in my tone, betraying my feelings for him. Looking into his light green eyes, they’re registering his relief at finding me.
Brennus shrugs. “I’m a good swimmer, so I survived da spell ye cast ta scatter da fallen aingeals and wi’out Casimir ta lead dem, da Fallen lost deir focus and began ta recognize dat dey were losing da battle,” Brennus replies with an angelic expression on his beautiful face.
Seeing him smiling, it’s hard for me to remember that he’s truly a killer—a lethal predator. It’s difficult for me to think of Brennus as evil now because he protected me, not only from the Ifrit, Valentine, who would’ve killed me, but also from the army of fallen angels who stalk me still. But, he had also enslaved me, keeping me from everyone that I love so that he could make me his queen: a queen to reside over the Gancanagh—his race of undead, magical Faeries with enthralling, toxic skin.
Brennus adds, “I tought dat ye were taken by da fallen aingeals. Dat’s where we’ve been looking for ye.”
His words evoke images of the last time I saw him a few weeks ago. Casimir and his army of fallen angels had cornered us at Brennus’ estate in Ireland. I had used magic to save us by summoning the sea and drenching us all in a churning, swirl of ocean water. It had separated me from Brennus, washing me away from him and into Casimir’s control.
“How’s Molly? Finn? Declan?” I ask, not able to stop myself from inquiring about Brennus’ brother, Finn, and my Gancanagh bodyguard, Declan…my prison guards.
“Molly is grand. Finn is better. ’Twas Declan dat we were all worried about. He took losing ye very hard. He improved a wee bit when we found Casimir’s corpse in pieces on the lawn of da estate. Was dat ye who killed him?” he asks with approval.
I shake my head, “No. Reed killed him,” I reply, seeing a flicker of jealousy enter Brennus’ eyes at the mention of Reed’s name. He warned me never to speak my angel’s name in his presence, so I try to cover my slip by asking, “How did you find me?”
“Ye took me blade wi’ ye. ’Tis moin…it calls for me, jus as ye do, but ye do na know dat, do ye?” he replies. I close my eyes, feeling my heart begin to race as I think of the knife I’d taken and shoved into my boot when we were escaping from the army of fallen angels. “Come, we’ll find a way for ye ta leave dis island now. Yer family misses ye. I miss ye,” Brennus says softly. “’Tis time we had ye home.”
Opening my eyes and staring into his, they reflect absolute certainty that I’ll follow his orders and return with him. As his captive for the last few months, I had done my best to act like I was one of them, a Gancanagh, in order to survive. But now, I’m no longer his hostage. Now, I have a chance of staying with Reed, my love. Moistening my lips that have become very dry, I say, “I can’t come with you, Brennus. I’m sorry.”
“Why na?” he asks me patiently, like he has all the time in the world to sort this out.
“Because my family needs me and I need them,” I reply, seeing his brows turn down as his mouth slants into a frown.
“We are yer family, mo chroí. Ye’re our queen,” he says calmly enough, but his pale face looks stern. “I am yer king.”
I shake my head at him, taking a step back from the edge of the water and from his outstretched hand. My heart is beating so fast now that it’s pounding in my ears. “I belong here, with them…with him,” I say quietly, watching Brennus’ frown turn into the darkest anger. A click sounds from Brennus as his retractable fangs shoot forward in his mouth and he bares their razor-sharp points menacingly.
“Ye would leave me alone wi’ whah I feel for ye? I would die for ye. Is dat na enough for ye ta see dat I love ye?” he asks, sounding wounded and hurt.
“I know that you love me, Brennus. I even know that you would protect me with your life if I’d let you, but I can’t let you. I can’t be with you,” I say, feeling tears coming to my eyes.
“Ye can and ye will,” he retorts, reaching out to take my arm. His fingers pass right through me, leaving a frigid gust of air where his hand had been. Amazed, I look at his face, seeing his frustration.
“You’re a clone...a spell,” I breathe, looking at him. “You’re not really here!”
“Ye’re surprised?” he asks, losing a little of his anger as he sees my astonished expression. “Ye live wi’ an extraordinary craitur, such as yerself, for long enough, ye learn a ting or two. ’Tis a spell, Genevieve. I liked whah ye can do wi’ yer clones…da images of yerself dat ye create. I tought I would try it meself. Do ye want ta see more?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for me to answer as he casts his hands in waves about us.