Falling

by Christina Lauren

“I followed you in here because you looked lonely. I followed you in here because you’re beautiful, and I like beautiful things.” A pause, and then the rest slipped out of him: “I followed you in here because I’m lonely too.”

Cat had always been fascinated by the paranormal. She was never afraid of the dark, never worried about monsters under her bed.

it was taking her to get used to being this close to someone so expansive, so massive, so beautiful. His skin was smooth and unmarred, every feature in perfect dimension and proportion.

But there was something else there in his eyes. Loneliness, anguish, a haunted tightness she couldn’t identify.

“What do you feel when I speak in that voice?” “The same thing I feel when I look at you.”

“Nothing like mind reading or premonition. But, the voice, as you’ve noticed. Also strength, speed, stealth, I have those.”

“Humans are drawn to me,” he said simply. “It’s quite embarrassing to say it aloud, but my simple existence is a seduction. That’s what I call the allure.”

“What exactly are you? I mean, what do you call your kind?” Brigan laughed. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying all of this aloud.” Catalina lifted her hands, dragging them down her face. What am I? He’d never been given a name, although some aspects of his form were obvious—at least to him.

“I am a Fallen,” he said, and lifted the scotch to his lips, letting the heat of the liquid coat them. “I am one of a handful like this.” 41 “Fallen like an angel?” she asked very, very quietly.

“I was very naughty, a very long time ago, and a very mean lady put a curse on me.”

“I’m doomed to walk the earth, alone and immortal, until my beloved finds me and rescues me.”

he’d left out the most important details. 42 Details like how he’d paid for these crimes first by having to watch the murder of his wife, his soul, his beloved. How he’d watched Annora tied to the stake and burned to death. And then he’d been killed too—at least, in a way he had. A sword had been decisively slashed through his heart, his blood had spilled in great pools, staining the palace courtyard. His heart had stopped beating.

the king’s sorceress had hovered nearby, those long, crooked fingers with twisted black fingernails pointing at his bleeding corpse as she spoke the curse that kept him alive but alone to this day. In shadows draped with feathers night, A fallen soul awaits the light. Eternal dusk, your heart’s refrain, Break this spell, remove your pain. Immortal chains, your tethered plea, Only when found, will you be free.

Thunderstruck, mute, he stared down at her and simply nodded, for all around him the world began to melt into color and vibration and sound; her face, which had been beautiful to him from the moment he saw her, was now something else altogether, still beautiful but now irresistible; dear to him in a way that held her tenderly at the very center of each cell in his body. His life, his love, his soul stood before him.

Catalina looked up at him, her eyes adoring and concerned. “I was going to ask you whether you could fly.” He could; he could fly and glide and soar and dive, but right in that moment, with his soul and heart returned to him, with Catalina standing before him and their future spreading out ahead like a vibrant, luxurious tapestry, Brigan could only fall to his knees.