Page 49 of Wings of Lies
“Elora,” Blue-eyes said.
“Elora is the world. Where exactly in Elora are we?”
“She’s smarter than she looks,” Blue-eyes mocked, handing over supplies to the snickering monsters.
I gritted my teeth, catching a piece of my torn cheek that I always bit into. “Well?”
“Well, you better get used to disappointment. Your questions aren’t worth our answers, prisoner.”
Asshole.
I analyzed the five feet separating us and the iridescent birch tree line. It’s not like they were paying attention. If this was my only chance at escaping and finding my mom, so be it. I was already cuffed.What more could they do?Without a second thought, I ran. Before I sprinted all of three steps, my face slammed into a woolen cloak, and Graybeard shoved me to the ground.
He squatted, looking smug. Unguarded disdain pushed at his bushy eyebrows. “I’d refrain from making that mistake twice. Next time, I won’t be so nice,” he said, standing and walking back to the others. They carried wood, blankets, pans, and other odds and ends to the center of the clearing.
I yanked at my chains and yanked again. The metal cuffs dug into my bony wrists.That damned Nephilim!
Whether Oliver, his name made me sick, found me, or Marcus, I would have still ended up where I was now. The little bit of freedom I had was an illusion. I wrenched at the cuffs until warmth slid down my pinky finger. Then, the itching came.Great.I didn’t need ice right now. I needed my Glory, which meant I needed fear.
I closed my eyes and pushed my rage away with thoughts about my mom and what could be happening to her. The itching faded, replaced by poking and pressure.
That’s it. Come on.
My mom was always there for me. The pieces I remembered from my last dream-walk enforced that notion. And someone took her from me.
The poking turned to stabs.
“Meditating isn’t going to help you,” Blue-eyes called out.
I ignored him. The moment I melted these off, I would need to lusceler away.
What if someone was hurting her?
My Glory surged. Needles stabbed me, and a powerful shock jolted into my body. I screamed.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Scared and stubborn, I tried again, pushing past the pain. My Glory tried to erupt, and a larger bolt of electricity slammed into my body, locking up my muscles. I fell forward, about to faceplant into the ground.
Gravel crunched, and Blue-eyes caught my shoulders.
“Stop! The cuffs prevent the use of power through electric shocks.”
I stopped. But not because he looked ready to slit my throat if I didn’t. The electricity scrambled my thoughts, and I couldn’t take the pain.
Would I ever see my mom again?
Once he realized I could hold my torso up, he released me and stood. I vacantly stared at his black leather boots, refusing to test if my legs would hold me until the lingering vibrations left.
“What do you want from me?” I whispered, trying to hide the fact that my throat was tightening. His hand moved in my peripheries, latching onto something near his hip. I lifted my gaze an inch and saw the top of a sword.
Part of me thought it’d put me out of my misery, and another part bristled at my weakness.
“Probably nothing you’re thinking about right now,” he said, fingers flexing on the hilt.
If I had any energy left, I would’ve scoffed. He had no idea my thoughts were bringing me to a suffocating place. A place where rage, fear, and hope dug their own graves, hanging on by fraying threads.
I lifted my gaze, forgetting to hide my pain, as I stopped at his dark-lashed eyes.
