Page 74 of Hunt the Dusk
I stared at the silver markings running up her arm, so similar to mine, solid and intact. The markings weren’t the problem, it was the skin beneath, covered in a network of inky black veins.
“Orina?”
I lightly touched her arm. “You need to see this.”
She took a deep breath and looked. “Oh…Oh no…” Tears tracked down her cheeks. “It’s happening. I’m changing.”
“When is your next transfusion?”
“Not for a couple more days.”
“Fuck that. We’re going now.”
“What? I can’t. I need to hunt for sucker rats.”
“No, you don’t. Not when you have my blood as payment instead.”
She looked up at me with wet eyes then burst into fresh tears. “I’m scared. Orina, I’m so fucking scared.”
“It will be all right. We’ll find a way. We’ll fix this.” I said the words she needed to hear and held her under the shadow of wings, silently praying for her salvation.
She’d given her life to the Order. To the white wings, and now she needed them. She needed their power and their grace to save her.
But for the first time in forever, a prickle of doubt skated over my scalp because what if there was no salvation?
What if this time, we were on our own?
Chapter 25
Ezekiel demanded my presence for dinner.
Demanded.
Hah!
After avoiding me all week. Who the hell did he think he was?
I stormed down the corridor toward the dining hall, ready to give him a piece of my mind.
I’d been ready for another meal in the kitchens when Ingrid delivered Ezekiel’s order, and God help me, I’d been tempted to ignore him and eat in the kitchens anyway, but that might have gotten Ingrid in trouble.
No, this was better.
He had some explaining to do, after all.
Voices drifted out to meet me as I drew closer. I picked up my pace and entered to find the king ensconced at the head of the table with Laudon a few seats down from him. Ordell and Hemlock were also present at the other end of the table.
Dammit. I couldn’t unleash on him with Laudon present.
“Ah, Miss Lighthart.” Ezekiel greeted me as if he hadn’t been avoiding me all bloody week. “Come, sit by me.” His fingers gleamed with rings, and his hair was pulled back from his face allowing the candlelight to caress the planes of his highcheekbones with loving fingers while abandoning the hollows to the shadows. He’d shucked off his jacket and wasn’t wearing a waistcoat, just a thin shirt that hugged his frame in all the right places, and yes, I was eating him up with my eyes, and that had to stop because I was sure Ordell had noticed. His lips were tight as if it bothered him. I mean, of course it bothered him; his beast had me marked and here I was ogling another male.
There was something terribly wrong with me.
Hemlock, on the other hand, gave nothing away. He didn’t even have his silver coin out to play.
I took the seat to the left of Ezekiel, and he poured me some wine. “How has your week been?” he asked.
Seriously? “Fine. Yours?” I smiled sweetly.
