Forbidden

~Chapter Thirty-Eight~

A/N: I am quite literally trembling at my laptop right now. After this chapter is the epilogue, and then...Forbidden is complete. I started tearing up while writing this chapter, both from the material and from that fact. This could be finished tonight, everyone.

Thank you so, so much for reading. It means the world to me. <3

Dedicated to thekingd0m for creating the absolutely amazing new cover. I believe this one's a keeper. It has my pen name on it. :-) Basically just a different last name. Can you believe she managed to find that perfect of a picture, though? I mean...whoa.

I am off to do my geography homework now, with tears still in my eyes. I'm such a sentimental sap.

Enjoy. <3

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~Chapter Thirty-Eight~

Arabella’s already heightened pulse picked up pace, beating speedily against the tender, light bones of her ribcage. Even as the sharp words flowed languidly between her lips, despite the hesitancies, she knew that it was an empty promise; even as she informed River of what his so-called friend had done, she knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do: not here, not now. River had already gotten too many shocks today, what with the revealing of the existence of angels and Arabella’s own involvement with them. Now, with his beloved sister lying unconscious less than ten feet away, his rage and panic was growing: even without cheating with her telepathy capabilities, Arabella could feel the emotions seeping off of him as easily as her own.

            The last few syllables escaping her mouth, Arabella waited, an empathetic wince flitting across her expression. In front of her, River’s breath audibly halted, his eyes fluttering dizzily from the new information; to her right, Nathaniel sucked in a tight breath, watching the boy he had grown so close to absorb the painful news. Arabella gulped, hawk’s eye gaze following River’s every miniscule movement: the way his hands trembled nearly imperceptibly, the formation his lips made as they gaped slightly, the hurried and hurting fluttering of his pupils as he struggled to decide who to focus on. Feeling her mortal emotions begin to claw their way to her strategically-designed brain, Arabella glanced away.

            She was only met with another sight painful to her heart, both human and immortal.

            Beheld by her eyes, Alexandra stood in front of her, stoic and stock-still. To others who didn’t know her, her expression was dismissive and unfeeling, but Arabella knew better. Alex had been one of her closest, nearest sisters before she fell: that was a bond that didn’t break over time. Arabella’s stomach churned as she looked beneath the strong, courageous exterior, spotting the shattered angel within.

            Alexandra’s bright eyes gave her away first, their vivid, distinct blue betraying her emotions. Pain and longing filled her irises, shimmering brilliantly and hurtfully. She remembers, Arabella told herself, eyebrows furrowing slightly at her former sister’s anguish. She remembers everything. A shocked sympathy shot into her heart, contorting her stomach. That wasn’t expected: most of Them, the fallen ones, didn’t regret their actions, and instead had grown to loathe their former family, to love to hurt others. But Alexandra…she still did. If Arabella still knew her well enough, then she was correct: Alex was still hurting over her exile, still going over every tiny detail of Jeremy Elliot’s death, of what had gone wrong. Arabella forced her quavering lip into a steely line.

            Alexandra had been so powerful and graceful when she had lived above with her rightful family. She had belonged to a long line of trusted attendants and confidantes to their Almighty Sovereign, giving her ample hold over the rest of the family, one she never hoarded. Her blonde hair had cascaded down to mid-back, her head held high and long, lithe limbs flowing gracefully about their home. Arabella had valued her friendship, her intelligence, and her strength.