Grace and Glory (The Harbinger 3)

I had two options. Either walk my ass back to that field or wait for Zayne in the apartment. Okay. There really weren’t two options. Wasn’t like I could seriously walk my way back to that field, and Zayne would have to come home eventually. I was just going to go out of my mind waiting for him.

Feeling like I was already going out of my mind with all that was swirling around inside it, I stalked across the rooftop. There was a lot I was going to need to work through, but right now, all I could think about was Zayne. I knew exactly what he had to be going through, because I’d gone through it, and I didn’t want him to experience that kind of agony any longer than he needed to. And at least he hadn’t vanished in front of me. He had to be in a panic and—

“Trinity?”

I tripped over my feet as my breath caught in my throat. Catching myself, I whipped around.

Across the rooftop, Zayne stood on one of the wide pillars, the wind catching and lifting his hair and the feathers of those glorious wings, revealing the streaks of pulsing, shimmering grace. In that moment, I was struck by how much he reminded me of the battle angels that adorned the ceiling of the Great Hall back in the Potomac Highlands. He almost didn’t seem real.

“Trinity,” he repeated, his voice hoarse but still one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard.

I stumbled forward, my heart thundering. “It’s me.”

Zayne was so fast I didn’t even see him move from the ledge. He was there and then in front of me, and barely a heartbeat later, his arms swept around me. He hauled me to his chest, burying his hand and face in my hair as his wings folded around me.

“It’s really you. You’re really here.” A shudder racked him as I inhaled the wintermint scent of his. “This is real. Not some kind of dream. I’m holding you for real. You’re alive.”

“I am.”

Zayne touched the sides of my face reverently and then slid his fingers down the side of my neck. They stopped at where my pulse beat wildly and then he searched lower, pressing his palm to the center of my chest, over my heart.

Another shudder took him, and he dropped to his knees before me. My heart twisted. The beautiful wings splayed across the tile floor as he grasped my waist and stared up at me.

“You are all I ever wanted, even before I knew what I wanted. It was you. It was always you,” he whispered, voice raw. “And I lost you.”

“But you didn’t.” I dropped to my knees in front of him, cupping his cheeks. His vibrant blue eyes glimmered as they met mine, and my entire chest squeezed when I saw the dampness in them—the panic and grief, the spark of hope, and hardest of all, the fear. I recognized all of that, and I wanted nothing more than to take it all away from him. “This isn’t a dream. It’s definitely as crazy as one, but it’s real. I’m okay. I’m alive. Like really alive apparently, and I love you. I love you so much. I don’t say that enough. I know I don’t, because I’m weird and awkward, but I love you—”

Zayne’s mouth closed over mine in a kiss that washed away all the fear and panic of when I believed I was dying. It swept aside confusion and thoughts alike, leaving no room for anything other than how his lips felt against mine, the taste of him and the depth of what he felt for me. All the fear and grief he’d felt fed that kiss, as did all his love, and that love didn’t just overshadow the ugly. It obliterated it, and it amazed me how much a kiss could reveal when it was between two people who loved one another.

And we kissed and kissed, the tears on my cheeks mingling with the ones on his. He ended up sitting back, and somehow I was in his lap, his chest pressed against mine and his wings folded around me. I didn’t think we’d ever stop kissing, because there was a joy in it, a sweet relief that we’d both come too close to never experiencing this again too many times. We kissed for an eternity, and it still wouldn’t be long enough.

“It’s you.” The warmth of his breath touched my lips as he rested his forehead against mine, his chest rising and falling heavily. “No one quite gets as many words out in under a few seconds as you do.”

“It’s a talent,” I told him.

His laugh was full of relief. “How is this possible, Trin? You...” His voice roughened. “I was holding you. I could barely feel you breathing, and you couldn’t seem to hear me. Then you vanished.” His hands slid over my cheeks. “Just gone.”