Page 151 of Heavenly Bodies

Enzo nodded. ‘You can. They say that about soulmates, you know? That they can lend each other magick. You need to take it. Just in case. To finish Ariete.’

Elara’s tears fell. ‘Please, Enzo, don’t do this.’

‘You have to live, El. For your parents. For Sofia. Forme.’ His eyes fluttered closed, and he sighed.

‘I have only one regret,’ he whispered.

‘What? No, Enzo,’ she sobbed, gripping him to her, trying to shake him lucid.

‘That I didn’t tell you sooner.’

‘Tell me what?’

‘That you were my angel.’ Enzo leaned forwards, kissing her softly as he pressed his light-filled palm to her heart. And she wasn’t sure what magick was shared between them as she felt his power flood through her, but her dreamwalking gifts reared to life, pulling them into a memory.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

A young boy with black curls lay on his front, a sob escaping him as his back pulsed with pain. Father had called him a coward, and so the boy had replied, ‘I’m not a coward. I’m a winged lion.’

Father had laughed cruelly at that. And as his light had carved into the little prince’s back, he’d taunted, ‘You want wings, little Lion? Here are your wings.’

The prince tried to shift in his bed, but the places where his wounds had been still pulsed and flared with pain, no matter that the healer had smoothed his skin back together. He let out another sob, trying to stay as still as he could.

‘Please, please, please,’ he whispered, looking out of the windows to his balcony. ‘If there is someone out there that can hear me, please help me?’

He grasped on to his plea as tears tracked down his face, wetting his pillow and he repeated it over and over in his head, until finally the tears stopped, and he drifted into sleep.

Sometimes, Enzo’s dreams frightened him more than real life. As he opened his eyes to his nightmare, his breath came too quickly as he looked around the marble room. He could hear a whip snapping, and the sound set him shaking.

‘No,’ he cried. ‘Please, no. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll try harder.’

The whip sounded closer again, flashes of light painting the room, and the little prince screamed, knowing what was to come.

‘Please,’ he sobbed. ‘Someone help.’

There was a popping sound in the wall as the marble parted before him. He scrambled back, his jaw agape as a girl fell through the room and landed on the floor with a yelp. This was certainly not like his other dreams. The little girl stood up, brushing her nightgown primly. Enzo took another wary step back.

The little girl finally looked at him, her eyes narrowing. ‘Why are you crying?’ she asked. Her eyes were silver and her voice funny.

‘None of your beeswax,’ Enzo replied, sniffing loudly as he crossed his arms.

The girl huffed out an impatient breath. ‘You know, Lukas gets told off when he says that. It’s not polite.’

‘Well, that’s babyish. I’m eight years old. I can say what I like.’ He cast her a sideways glance. ‘How old are you?’

‘I’m five and a half, and you’re not very nice.’ He noticed that shadows were curling out of her, their tendrils touching him. He knew that darkness was evil. But these shadows felt nice. ‘They seem to like you,’ she said as he brushed off a tendril.

‘I’m sorry.’ He stepped closer. ‘I’ve not had a very good day. My father hurt me.’

The little girl’s silver eyes softened. She walked right up to Enzo before he could move.

‘What did he do?’

Enzo turned to show her his back, but a fresh sob of frustration escaped him as he found it smooth.

‘He hurt my back. But no one believes me.’

‘I believe you.’