Page 108 of Price of Blood and Joy
Then her muscles bunched tight as a spring. I felt the exact moment she prepared to launch—every fiber tensing. She leaped, and suddenly we were airborne, her wings beating with powerful, rhythmic grace.
My stomach dropped as we soared upward, the ground falling away beneath us.
Panic flared hot in my chest. Too high, too fast—we were going to fall. My fingers dug into the harpy's feathers, and Enzo's arms tightened around me. But the massive wings beat steadily, powerfully, and slowly my fear began to ebb. We weren't falling. We were flying.
Wind whipped through my hair as we flew over the Court of Thorns, over the blooming gardens and magnolia trees that had witnessed my brother's farewell. The beauty of it stole my breath—the world spread out beneath us like a painting, alive and glittering.
From up here, the world looked different—smaller, more beautiful. I understood why Nyx had loved this. The freedom. The perspective. For a few precious moments, there was no war, no loss, no pain. Just flight.
The harpy circled once more before descending, landing with surprising gentleness near where we'd started. I slid off, legs shaky, and Enzo dismounted behind me. The harpies bowed their heads to us before spreading their wings and taking flight again, disappearing into the clouds.
"Thank you," I whispered to the sky.
Later that night, back at the manor, I collapsed onto Enzo's bed. Every emotion from the day—the funeral, the magic, the flight, the grief—crashed over me at once.
Enzo sat beside me and pulled me into his lap, his strong arms encircling me.
"I've been thinking," he said quietly.
"About what?"
"About getting you out of here. Away from New Orleans, away from the supernatural wars and politics." His hand stroked through my hair with gentle care. "I want to take you to Italy."
I lifted my head to look at him. "Italy?"
"My homeland. I haven't been back in decades, but... I want to show you where I came from. The villages, the countryside, the Amalfi Coast. I want to give you peace, Joy. Beauty. Time to heal." His voice grew softer, more vulnerable. "Time for just us."
Tears pricked my eyes—not from sadness this time, but from overwhelming love. After losing Nyx, after everything we'd survived and endured, the idea of escaping to Italy with Enzo felt like salvation. A chance to breathe. To simply be together without threats looming over us.
"When can we leave?" I asked.
He smiled, brushing away a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "As soon as you're ready. We'll stay as long as you want."
I pulled him down and kissed him deeply, pouring everything I felt into it: love, gratitude, hope for our future. "I'm ready now."
"Then Italy it is." He held me close, his lips against my temple. "I'll show you vineyards under moonlight, ancient ruins that have stood for thousands of years, beaches where the water is so blue it doesn't look real." His voice dropped to a promise. "I'll give you the world, Joy. Starting with mine."
I nestled against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath my cheek. We'd faced demons and queens, torture and war, loss and betrayal. But we'd survived. Together.
And now, finally, we could start living.
"I love you," I whispered.
"I love you too. Always."
Outside the window, the New Orleans night carried on—supernatural creatures prowling the streets, politics and power plays continuing their endless dance. But in this moment, wrapped in Enzo's arms with Italy waiting for us, none of it mattered.
We had each other. We had hope. We had a future.
That was enough.
