35.

Xavier's world spun as he clutched onto the faint reality grounding him. In Angelina's arms, he could feel the warmth of her protection, the soft beat of her heart against his, the swish of her wings wrapping around them both. But instead of comfort, he felt nothing but a gnawing, consuming rage.

As they reached solid ground, he scrambled out of her hold, stumbling backward as if even touching her might burn him. His eyes narrowed, darting between her face and those wings—a brilliant, powerful set that had carried him back from the edge of death but were now, in his mind, a symbol of lies and betrayal.

“Xavier…” Angelina’s voice was barely a whisper, her wings drooping as she noticed the storm brewing in his eyes. “Please, let me explain. I—”