Every Last Breath (The Dark Elements #3)(2)
Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout

Then the Lilin was gone, spinning right around and exiting the house with a quickness that left me standing there, staring foolishly at the empty doorway. I didn’t understand. The Lilin hadn’t batted an eyelash at Zayne or Roth, but I’d shifted forms and it had tucked its tail and run away?

Uh.

“Well, that was…anticlimactic.” I turned around slowly, tucking my wings back. The first one I saw was Zayne.

He’d returned to his human form. Zayne always, even when he appeared exhausted, could’ve stepped out of a Town and Country magazine. His good looks went beyond all-American and straight into swoonville, population every girl on the planet. He looked like I imagined angels would. Vibrant blue eyes and near-heavenly features, but he stared at me with his mouth hanging slightly open. His absolutely gorgeous face was pale, which made the unforgiving shadows under his eyes stand out starkly. He stared at me like he’d never seen me before, which was bizarre, because he’d grown up with me. I felt like some kind of specimen.

A trickle of unease ran down my spine as my gaze switched to the couch. At some point, Zayne had moved closer to where Stacey had landed. I expected to find her rocking in a ball, but she too gaped at me, her hands pressed against her cheeks, and any other time I would’ve laughed at that expression. Not now.

My heart rate kicked into overdrive as I swung toward the back of the room, where Roth was standing. My gaze collided with eyes the color of amber. His were wide, his pupils vertical. Even so, he was a sight to behold.

Roth was—well, there was no one that walked this earth that looked quite like him. Probably had to do with the fact that he was in no way human, but he was stunning. Always had been, even when he’d styled the black hair into spikes. I preferred the lesser look he rocked now with his hair falling over his forehead, brushing the tips of his ears and the arches of equally dark eyebrows. Golden eyes were slightly slanted at the outer corners. He had cheekbones and a jaw you could cut glass with, a face any artist would die to sketch—or touch. And those full, expressive lips were parted.

His tawny skin wasn’t pale and he didn’t gape at me like I belonged under a microscope, but he was watching me in astonishment just as Zayne had.

The unease turned into balls of dread, settling heavily in my stomach. “What?” I whispered, glancing around the room. “Why are you all staring at me like…like there’s something wrong with me?”

It couldn’t have been because I’d told the Lilin I’d rip his head off. Yeah, I was a little less violent on most days, but in the past week or so, I’d thought I was the Lilin, had been kissed by Zayne and nearly took his soul, was subsequently chained and held in captivity by the very clan that had raised me, was almost killed by that same clan—deep breath—was then healed thanks to Roth and a mystery brew provided by a coven of witches who worshipped Lilith, and now I’d just discovered that my best friend was dead, his soul was in Hell, and the Lilin had taken his place. You’d think a girl could be cut a little slack.

Roth cleared his throat. “Shortie, look…look at your hand.”

Look at my hand? Why in the world would he be asking me to do that in the midst of all the cray?

“Do it,” he said quietly and too gently.

The dread exploded in my gut like buckshot, and my gaze dropped to my left hand. I expected to see the weird marbling of black and gray, a mixture of the demon and Warden that existed inside of me and a combination I’d become almost familiar with by now. My nails had lengthened and sharpened, and I could tell they were hard enough to cut through steel, as hard as my skin, but my skin…it was still pink. Really pink.

“What the…?” My gaze traveled to my other hand. It was the same. Just pink. My wings twitched, reminding me that I had shifted.

Zayne swallowed. “Your…your wings…”

“What about my wings?” I almost screeched, reaching behind me. “Are they broken? Did they not come out—” The tips of my fingers came into contact with something as soft as silk. My hand jerked back. “What…”

Stacey’s watery eyes had doubled in size. “Um, Layla, there’s a mirror above the fireplace. I think you need to look in it.”

I met Roth’s gaze for a second before I spun around and all but ran to the fireplace I was sure Stacey’s mom had never used. Clutching the white mantel, I stared at my reflection.

I looked normal, like I did before I shifted…like I was going to class or something. My eyes were the palest shade of gray, a watered-down blue. My hair was so blond it was almost white, and a mess of waves that went in every direction like usual. I looked like a colorless china doll, which was nothing new, except for the two fangs jutting out of my mouth. I wouldn’t show them off at school, but that wasn’t what caught my attention and held it.

It was my wings.

They were large, not as massive as Zayne’s or Roth’s, and normally they were almost leathery in texture, but now they were black…black and feathered. Like legit feathered. That soft, silky thing I’d felt? It had been tiny feathers.

Feathers.

“Oh my God,” I whispered at my reflection. “I have feathers.”

“Those are definitely feathered wings,” Roth commented.

I whipped around, knocking over a lamp with my feathered right wing. “I have feathers on my wings!”

Roth cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, you do.”

He was absolutely no help, so I turned to Zayne. “Why do I have feathers on my wings?”

Zayne shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, Layla. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Liar,” hissed Roth, shooting him a dark look. “You’ve seen that before. So have I.”

“I haven’t,” mumbled Stacey, who, by this point, had tucked her legs against her chest and really looked like she would be rocking at any given point. Until recently, Stacey hadn’t known what Roth really was. She hadn’t even known about me. This had to be too much for her.

“Okay. How and why have you seen this before?” I demanded, dragging in air too fast. “Am I going to have to shave my wings now?”

“Shortie…” Roth’s lips twitched.

I raised my hand, pointing my finger at him. “Don’t you dare laugh, you jerk-face! This is not funny. My wings are freaks of nature!”

He lifted his hands. “I’m not going to laugh, but I think you should leave the razors alone. Besides, lots of things have feathers in their wings.”

“Like what?” I demanded. Were there still more supernatural creatures I was unfamiliar with?

“Like…like hawks,” he answered.

My brows furrowed. “Hawks? Hawks?”

“And eagles?”

“I’m not a bird, Roth!” Patience leaked out of me. “Why do I have feathers on my wings?” I shrieked, this time at Zayne. “You’ve seen this before? Where? Someone tell me—”

Underneath me, the floor began to tremble, cutting me off. The shudder increased, traveling up the walls, shaking the mirror and rattling the framed pictures. Plumes of plaster puffed from the ceiling. The house quaked and a loud rumble became deafening.

Stacey popped up from the couch, grabbing Zayne’s arm. “What’s happening?”

Wings forgotten, I exchanged a look with Zayne. Something about this was all too familiar. I’d felt this before, when—

Blinding golden light streamed in through the windows and the tiny cracks in the wall and from between the wooden boards of the floor. Soft, luminous light crept along the ceiling, dripping downward. I jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding getting hit with the splatter. I clearly remembered what had happened the last time I’d been stupid enough to touch the light.

My kind never could. Neither could Roth.

“Shit,” he muttered.

My heart stopped as the rumble was cut off and the beautiful glow disappeared. In a flash, Roth was beside me, one hand curled around my upper arm.

Stacey sniffed the air. “Why does it smell like we’re being suffocated in dryer sheets?”

She was right; a new scent permeated the air. To me, it was musky and sweet. Heaven…heaven smelled like whatever you wanted it to, whatever you truly desired most in the world, and it was different for everyone.

Zayne shoved Stacey behind him, and I had a feeling Roth was about to drag our nonangelic butts out of there, but a fissure of power radiated throughout the room. The sweet aroma that filled me with yearning was replaced by clover and frankincense. Warmth traveled down my back, and I knew we were too late to make an escape.

Oh no.

Stacey gasped. “Oh my…” Her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees gave out. She folded like an accordion. Zayne caught her before she smacked into the floor, and I didn’t really have time to worry about her.

We weren’t alone.

I didn’t want to turn around, but I couldn’t help it. I had to, because I wanted to see them. I had to see them before they wiped me off the face of the planet. Roth must’ve felt the same, because he also turned. There was a soft glow reflecting off his cheeks. He squinted and I looked toward the doorway.

Two of them stood there like sentries, nearly seven feet tall or possibly even bigger. They were so beautiful it was almost painful to look upon. Hair the color of wheat and their skin shimmered, catching and absorbing the light all around them. They were neither black nor white nor any shade in between, but somehow all colors at once, and they wore some kind of linen pants. The orbs of their eyes were pure white—no irises or pupils. Just white space, and I dimly wondered how they could see. Their chests and feet were bare. Their shoulders were as broad as any Warden’s and their wings were magnificent, a brilliant white spanning at least eight feet on either side of them.