“No! Please!” Again, Mahiya attempted to halt Nivriti as her mother—almost desultorily—flicked the deadly green web onto the angel.
But her mother was over three thousand years old, her power vast even in the aftermath of battle. It was an unequal contest, one Mahiya could not win. Trembling, she forced herself to watch, to remember this death, as the angel dissolved into nothing. He and the vampire both deserved epitaphs, both deserved not to be simply erased out of existence.
Sighing, Nivriti went to touch Mahiya, shook her head when Mahiya stumbled back. “How did you stay so soft under my sister’s loving hand, hmm?”
Because I didn’t want to end up like her . . . like you. Her heart broke again, as she realized that some childhood dreams had no hope of ever coming true.
“Never mind. I am here to take care of you now.” Nivriti looked over her shoulder. “Escort my daughter to her room. She should rest.”
Mahiya allowed herself to be shown to the clean and, by the standards of the palace, luxurious room. It was clear she was being given honor as Nivriti’s child.
“I am here to take care of you now.”
Sitting down on the four-poster bed, grief a knot in her throat, she wrapped her fingers around one of the carved wooden posts that had been polished until they shone, and then she thought. About who she was, what she wanted to do with the immortal existence that stretched endlessly in front of her.
Regardless of what Nivriti believed, she was no child. She had fought for her freedom from an archangel. Jason had helped her achieve that freedom, and perhaps she wouldn’t ever have gained it on her own, but even faced with seemingly insurmountable odds, even after a lifetime with an archangel who wanted to crush her spirit, she’d refused to surrender. And with her spymaster, too, she was the one who’d driven a bargain when she held but a single fragile card.
“You need to give me something in return. I can’t surrender the most valuable piece of information I have without gaining something equally valuable in return.”
She’d spoken those words, demanded he treat her need for freedom with respect.
But now, once again, she found herself in a prison. There were no locks, no ill will from Nivriti, but her mother had made it patent she saw Mahiya as a babe. Someone who’d be kept safe in this palace, have her wings clipped, and be shut away or ordered into silence when it came time for the adults to talk. Protected from the harsh realities of life.
“Escort my daughter to her room.”
Already, Mahiya could feel an oppressive sense of suffocation constricting her rib cage. “It is too late, Mother,” she whispered, and it was a decision she’d needed to make before she could carry on with her life. “I have not been a babe for a long time.”
Sadness tore through her veins at all they had lost, the time they could never reclaim. But there was also a sweet, sweet relief, the leaden guilt in her stomach at the thought of abandoning Nivriti leavened by the knowledge that to build a relationship with her mother, she’d have to leave her. It was the only way to force Nivriti to see her as a woman grown. A woman who loved a spymaster with wings of black.
Had Jason known? That had she flown away from Nivriti on the battlefield, she’d have forever wondered what her life might’ve been like with her mother? That her guilt at deserting a woman who had survived a nightmare, and who looked at Mahiya with love in her eyes, would’ve been a constant pain in her chest?
Her lips curved, because of course he had—Jason thought four steps ahead. Hope bloomed, but fingers tightening on the post, she forced herself to be rational, to remember he’d parted from her without any indication he intended to find her again. Even if he did, he couldn’t guess that she’d have come to her decision, be ready to leave only hours after arrival. Loyal as he was to Raphael, he’d most probably already left the subcontinent to make his report.
Which meant Mahiya was on her own.
Drawing in a deep breath, she stood and took stock of herself. She was a little tired from the flight to the palace, but not exhausted, as the army had moved at a slower pace to accommodate their injured brethren. Nevertheless, it would be smart to rest, regain her full strength—except that she wanted to leave now.
Even the most loving restraints were still chains that sought to hobble her.
Departing now did give her one small advantage—the secondary angelic unit, with their injured cargo, had arrived as she was being escorted to her room. Her offer of help had been declined, and from their condescending smiles, she was fairly certain it was because the guards thought she’d faint when she saw the damage, never realizing the things she’d witnessed in Neha’s court.
Everyone else who could be spared was tending to the wounded, the palace’s defenses the thinnest they would ever be. It was her best chance to slip away—because the fact was, she didn’t think her mother would simply let her go. Not when Nivriti believed her a child unable to care for herself. Mahiya’s eyes burned, and she wondered if her mother’s blindness was willful, if she tried to find the babe who had been stolen from her so very long ago.
Swallowing the wave of raw emotion, Mahiya pushed aside the curtains on the balcony doors, saw that the early morning sunlight was crystalline. She’d be spotlighted against the blue sky . . . but no one had forbidden her from taking flight. Decision made, she walked into the bathroom and washed her face, tidied her hair into a tight braid, then opened the balcony doors and stepped out.
There were any number of angels outside, and one flew toward her at once, his wings a dyed black that told her he’d been part of the assault. “Princess,” he said with the curt courtesy of someone who had far more important things on his plate. “How can I serve you?”