Page 110 of Wings of Lies
Once the knife stopped making its line, Dad cleaned up the sliding warmth and bandaged it like last time.
“Now, we won’t tell your mother about this. She wouldn’t be happy with you. Tomorrow, it will be healed, and you can take your bandage off.”
My pink floral shirt dropped back into place, and I turned, nodding into Thumper.
“Wipe those tears. We don’t want helpless wimps in this household.”
I sniffled once more and drug my fisted hand across my face, still staring at my dad’s shoes.
The door opened. “There you are, my darlings,” a pleasant voice said from the hall.
I turned to the voice of my mom.
“Oh, sweetheart, what happened?” She came and knelt next to me, holding my chin. Her hand pushed away my wavy hair, looking at me with concern. I looked up at my dad. He raised his eyebrow in expectation.
Swallowing, “I—I was playing and fell off my bed,” I mumbled.
“Hmm. Next time we need to be more careful, okay, baby? But look, it’s already healing up nicely. The redness is almost gone.” My mom tenderly touched my cheek, replacing the sting with a sense of calm.
“Do you want to give Dad a hug before he leaves for a while?” she asked.
I didn’t want to. But Mom was right. I wouldn’t see him until next year on my birthday. He was my dad, after all, and I still loved him even if he hurt me. I wasn’t a wimp. Turning, I swallowed and then hugged him. His fingers pressed into my bandage.
A chill infiltrated my mind, blurring the dream-walk and taking me out of the memory of past me and myfather,if that was what you’d call the abusive bastard. At least now I knew where my scars came from. The coldness steadily increased to the point of pain.
I jolted awake, clutching my throbbing head as my teeth chattered. The kingfinallyarrived.
You fell asleep, and I couldn’t find you in your dreams.
I held my head tighter. By the sound of his voice and the intensity of the chill in my brain, he wasn’t thrilled.
Could you possibly bring down the sub-zero temperatures?I asked as I shivered.
Tiny embers glowed in the fire pit, giving only a little light in the pitch black. A couple of feet away, Brock was little more than a faint outline.
I needed to wake you up.
I’m awake. Now what?
Now, things become a tad chillier.Laughter and delight lightened the irritation in his voice.
What the heavenly hell does that mean?If things got any colder, I might pass out from hypothermia.
My sweet Lucille, it is time you realize you possess more than your Glory in that scrawny body of yours.
Scrawny?I glared inside my head.
He laughed.
I know I have more than my Glory,I snapped.
But what were my dark flames? Between the itch, different melodies, wanting to kill, ice, seduction, and black flames—I had no idea what they were.
Black flames?he asked with a smile.
Get out of my thoughts!I yelled.
The temperature dropped.Careful.
