He’d almost died that day.
“Illium.”
“It’s nothing dangerous. Comes and goes.” A shrug. “There’s no attendant surge of power.” A sudden grin. “I’m just glow-in-the-dark for a minute or two.” The smile faded as quickly as it had come, along with the golden light in his veins.
Consciously taking a deep breath, then another, Elena lifted a hand to brush his hair off his forehead. Her heart was a racehorse in her chest, but this wasn’t about her. “Aodhan hurt you.”
“It’s more that he’s hurting himself.” He looked out at Manhattan again, but he was no longer holding his wings to his back with unforgiving tightness. Opening them a fraction, he allowed his feathers to slide against hers.
Many people would see that and think it an intimacy. It was. One between friends. Raphael called Illium her favorite. That was true, too. But he wasn’t her lover, would never hold that position—that part of Elena belonged always to her archangel. That was why she could hold his hand, why she could slide her wing over his, why he could kiss her knuckles.
“During his recovery,” Illium said into the quiet, “right at the start, when Keir was basically trying to put him back together, Aodhan didn’t speak, didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.” Such pain in his voice. “He’d just stare at whatever nightmares existed in his mind, a broken doll.”
The use of those words, Elena grasped, had been deliberate on Aodhan’s part.
“The person who described him that way was an angel named Remus.” Illium’s hand clenched around Elena’s with such strength that her bones hurt.
She said nothing, just listened.
“Remus was Keir’s assistant at the time.” He released a breath, eased his grip. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”
“I’m hunter-born, Bluebell. A little squeeze won’t do me any harm.”
Chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm, Illium said, “Remus was a failed member of the Luminata.” He shifted to walk in the direction of her greenhouse, tugging her along with him.
She went, the glass structure a beacon of light on that side of the yard. It was the heat lamps within, the ones that nurtured her plans. “Did Remus get kicked out of Lumia?”
Illium’s satisfaction was in his voice when he answered. “I always thought he must’ve been kicked out, too, but Remus insisted he’d left because he realized he hadn’t finished living his life in the outside world yet. He implied that he’d be able to walk back into Lumia at any point in time.”
“This Remus guy, he’s not Keir’s assistant any longer.”
“No.” A word so razor-edged the air bled. “Remus had no business being in a healer’s employ.” Coming to a standstill beside the greenhouse, Illium looked back toward the open doors to the library. “He spent a lot of time with Aodhan while Aodhan was in the Medica. I was there, too, as were the others of us who were with Raphael at that time, as well as Raphael himself. My mother. His parents.”
He swallowed audibly. “I would’ve lived at the Medica had Keir allowed it—I couldn’t bear to have Aodhan out of my sight after what had happened.” Wings shifting restlessly, his fingers clenching down on hers again. “But every so often, Remus would tell us that as a healer’s apprentice, he could see Aodhan was growing strained at the constant companionship, that he needed a little time to find his own peace. We didn’t want to hurt him—we never wanted to hurt him—so we’d leave.”
Hairs rose on the back of Elena’s neck, an ugly feeling in her gut. “And this Remus dude would be alone with him?”
Illium nodded. “I came back early one day. I planned to sit outside Aodhan’s room until Remus said it was okay to go in again.” He broke their handclasp to spin away, a sound of raw rage erupting from his throat. “But the door was partially open,” he said without turning back. “Because it was, I went closer in case Remus had cleared visitors . . . and I heard someone whispering in there. It was Remus. He was telling Aodhan he was a broken doll and that broken dolls needed masters.”
Elena’s eyes grew hot with fury. “Bastard.”
“I didn’t need to hear anything else. It was obvious Remus was using his position to abuse Aodhan, break down anything that remained inside him so Remus could ‘own’ him.” Rage and tears vied for space in Illium’s voice. “Everyone wants to own Aodhan. He’s a beautiful jewel and the world can’t bear just to look at him and wonder at his beauty. They want to break him, cage him.”
“What did you do to Remus?”
“I threw him out of the room then proceeded to attempt to beat him to death,” Illium responded in a tone so cold it caused goose bumps over her skin. “I would’ve succeeded if Aodhan hadn’t spoken at last. It was so quiet, so soft, but I heard him. He said, Bluebell.” Illium blew out a harsh breath. “It was like a gunshot going off inside my head. I dropped the bag of broken bones that was Remus and rushed into Aodhan’s room—”
He cut off his words, as if the memory of that moment was too much to bear.
Shifting to stand beside him once more, Elena ran her hand gently over his wing, his feathers silky and warm under her palm. In profile, against the light of the greenhouse, he was a granite statue, his jaw clenched with agonizing force.
When he spoke, each word was a jagged chip of flint. “Remus was lying bleeding and broken outside when Raphael came. He didn’t ask me anything at that time, just threw Remus in a treatment room and alerted Keir that one of his people needed his assistance.”