Archangel's Storm

being punished for what I did to you and your mother.” Dark eyes on Mahiya’s face. “Do you think I am being punished, Mahiya?”
    If you believe so. For your karma is of your own making.
    “It is not my place to think such things, my lady.” Mahiya used every ounce of skill she’d picked up from her years in the court to hide her thoughts, keep her voice expressionless. “I am only grateful for your kindness in giving me a home.”
    Neha’s lips curved, but the ice in her gaze remained frigid. “A pretty speech. Perhaps you will prove interesting, after all.” A slight motion of a slender hand, and Mahiya knew she’d been dismissed.
    Walking the wide pathway along the ramparts until she came to steps that led down into the sprawling main courtyard—built at a time when ground armies were mounted on elephants—she made her way down with slow grace, though she wanted nothing more than to spread her wings and fly off into the mountains. That deadly chance was one she’d save for last, when she had no other hope.
    “Yes. You matter.”
    Hugging Jason’s quiet words to her heart, her faith in his integrity an instinct she had no will to fight, Mahiya crossed the stone of the courtyard with measured steps. Open as it was, with only a few miniature trees in large planters on the edges, she could feel a hundred eyes on her—guards, courtiers, servants.
    She acknowledged those who acknowledged her, but stopped for no one . . . until a tall, handsome angel with skin of darkest brown and eyes of smoky gray walked into her path, his wings a mottled brown two shades paler than his skin. And she understood why Neha had spoken of the man who had taught Mahiya her first and most lasting lesson about love.
     

17
    “M ahiya, my sweet.” Arav went as if to take her hand in preparation for lifting it to his mouth, but she halted that by the polite expedient of a small bow, hands clasped together in greeting in front of her.
    “Sir,” she said, and in her mind, it was an insult. “I did not know you visited my lady.”
    “Of course I visit Neha.” A charming smile he’d once convinced Mahiya was for her alone.
    Now she trusted no man’s smile . . . and was starting to trust a man who smiled not at all. It was an impossible thing, but there it was. She had more trust in an enemy spymaster than she had in any other person in this fort—Jason’s truths might be dark and often brutal, but they were never lies wrapped in acidic sweetness that could corrode.
    “She and I are friends of an age.” Arav’s gaze lifted to where Neha stood on the ramparts, her gaze cityward. “And of course, I have not seen you, my favorite lover, for many a year.”
    “I am no longer your lover and have not been for centuries.” She felt defiled by the memory of how she’d allowed him to take her innocence with a satisfaction she’d then mistaken for care. “I wish you a good visit, but I must be on my way.”
    Arav blocked her when she would’ve walked around him. To insist would be to cause a scene, and while Mahiya had no compunction against slapping Arav if need be, giving in to the urge while Neha stood so close could be dangerous. Because in one thing Arav did not lie—he and Neha did have a friendship.
    To this day, she didn’t know if Arav had been acting under orders when he seduced then threw Mahiya away like trash, or if it had been simple chance, the male in front of her taking advantage of an untutored girl who did not enjoy her archangel’s favor and thus had no one from whom Arav might fear reprisal.
    “I hear you share rooms with one who has sworn a blood vow.” Arav’s eyes glittered. “Raphael’s pet mute.”
    Mute?
It was an insult so incomprehensible as to have no impact. Jason didn’t chatter, but he wasn’t a wholly silent creature—he simply chose not to speak until he had something to say. “Neha,” she said, with glacial politeness, “appears to hold him in high esteem.”
    His lips twisted in a reflection of the putrid inner self she hadn’t seen until it was too late. “She is grieving.”
    Ah.
“Is that why you’re here? To offer solace?”
    “It is a friend’s prerogative.”
    “A friend who wishes to take Eris’s place.”
    “I am stronger than he ever was.” Arrogance backed by fact; Arav was one of Neha’s generals. “When I am consort,” he said, gripping her jaw between thumb and forefinger before she could flinch away, “I will ask Neha to give you to me