Mists of Velvet

keep her safe.

    The vision was upon her now. She had been foolish to expose herself in such a way, but she had been too wrapped up in the pleasure that Rhys was giving her to remember to hide the script that ran up her thigh. Never had she been so careless.
    He had nearly touched it when she had been in her wolf form, she reminded herself. Rhys was devastating, not only to her body but to her mind. She would need to find a way to guard herself. But she was here now, in the midst of a vision she did not want, and could not stop.
    It was black as pitch, and quiet. She could hear breathing close to her, but she could not see. Even with her keen wolf vision, she was blind in this obsidian darkness.
    She was in a cavern of sorts; she could sense that much. The rhythmic tapping of water hitting rock sounded in the distance. The scurrying of a rodent across the stone floor made her shudder. Where was he? she wondered as she rubbed her hands along her arms. He was always in these visions. The tattoo on her leg was her cursed link to him.
    Her heart was racing as she took a cautious step forward.
    “Go no farther.”
    She froze as the disembodied voice reached her. By the goddess, she wished she could see. Bronwnn possessed a fair amount of steel will and courage, but this was unnerving. The darkness, the uncertainty, and the evil she felt in this cavern were beyond what her courage could withstand.
    “He will find you, and when he does, he will sacrifice you.”
    Bronwnn turned in a slow circle, her hands outstretched in an attempt to connect with anything. Suddenly her wrists were seized, and she was pulled forward. A light flared, and she found herself looking into the face of a nightmare.
    She nearly screamed, but the creature’s filthy blackened hand covered her mouth. His eyes . . . By the goddess, they had been removed, leaving only black sockets. His face . . . One half was tattooed with angelic script. And on his neck, he bore the mark revealed in the divination she had done for Cailleach.
    Camael . . .
    “No noise. He waits for you beyond the darkness. You are what he needs.”
    She tried to talk, but no words would form. She was terrified, trembling. But he pulled her closer so that he could whisper in her ear.
    “Protect the Sacred Trine. Protect it at all costs, for it is what he wants most. The trine has more power than even the flame and the amulet. The Oracle, the Healer, and the Nephillim—protect them all, and you will have what you need to defeat the mage.”
    He brought her closer, and the sound of chains clinking together made her realize how heavily bound he was. Softly, she traced the contours of his face, and he held her hands, his fingers shaking. What was he?
    “Bring back the nine warriors to release me, and I vow to you I will aid your cause.”
    The door opened, and a shaft of flickering candlelight shone upon them. A hooded figure stepped forward. Bronwnn could feel his eyes upon her, his laughter slithering over her as he approached.
    “Ah, my little voyeur. Always hovering just out of my reach.”
    His steps were slow, purposeful, allowing her fear to rise.
    “How long I have waited to meet you.”
    Standing, Bronwnn steadied herself. The creature who held her pulled her closer and whispered into her ear. “An angel with no flame is no longer immortal.”
    The Dark Mage pulled on a chain that circled the man’s neck, choking him. He released her as the mage dragged him down to the stone floor where he landed by his boots.
    “My little abomination has no need of your stories, Camael.”
    The mage stepped closer, and Bronwnn felt her body begin to tense. He knew it, because he laughed, sensing her fear. What did he know of her? Nothing—he couldn’t.
    “I can taste it,” he murmured, “your fear. You smell like your mother.”
    That caught her attention.
    “Oh yes, I knew her. She taught me the ways of your Black Arts. I pleasured her for a time, in exchange for her knowledge. Foolish bitch.”
    Camael groaned behind the mage, which seemed to amuse him. “My brother believed he was in love with your mother, but love is such a fleeting feeling, isn’t it? She gave him up for me. Of course, he’s spent the last millennium planning his escape and his subsequent return to her. But there is nothing to return to. I sacrificed her. Her knowledge made me very powerful.”
    Bronwnn seethed with hatred. The mage was no more than two feet away from her now. She still could not see his