Page 89 of Wings of Lies
“I need you to get my jacket. There’s a small bag in one of the pockets that I need for my wounds. It’s by the bank.”
“What’s wrong with your wounds?” he demanded, looking down, but his cloak covered me.
“I think my thighs are bleeding more than they should be,” I admitted. My ribs were fine, luckily.
He immediately dropped his hand, the tingles ceasing, and went to grab my jacket. When he came back, he nodded at my legs. “Let me see.”
“But I’m naked,” I said.
He sighed, frustrated. “Fine,” he put the small bag into my hands. “Put that on your wounds. I’ll be back with the needle and thread.”
“What? But the cuffs won’t hinder my quick healing.”Didn’t Hana say this would clot my wounds long enough for my power to kick in?
He shook his head, clearly annoyed. “The Tusoteuthis drains power. It latched onto you briefly, so you’ll be practically human for a bit.”
“How long is a bit?” I exclaimed.
I needed to dream-walk. Plus, when I got these cuffs off and escaped, I would need my flames. I couldn’t be helpless anymore. I almost died from a giant squid because I couldn’t control my powers. This was what Oliver was talking about. I either learned to control them or continue to hurt myself and others.
I loved my mom, but her fears stunted me, and I allowed it. Sure, I understood she was protecting me.But look where we were now.Although I still craved her forced calm and the easy way it silenced my doubts, fears, and hatred, I no longer could be the weak girl who took the abuse. I wouldn’t be, especially when a deadly man I didn’t fully trust invaded my head. He may be looking for my mom; he may even help me escape, but if not, I’d be as ready as I could be to catch the knife before it stabbed me in the back.
Aspen nodded down to my body. “Put that on your wounds. I’ll be back.” Then he left without telling me how long it’d take to get my powers back. It had better not be long. I needed to start practicing my powersnow.
“Put that on your wounds.” I quietly mocked while pouring the powder into the cuts on my thighs.
I jumped as Aspen luscelered in front of me. “Don’t do that.”
He threw my shirt into my face. When I pulled it off, the slightest twitch in his lips slowed my movements. The potential view of his dimples filled me with an addicting anticipation and a sadness I couldn’t articulate. But with his smile, he radiated light, drawing me in to understand him again.
“Put them on. I’ll turn around. Tell me when you’re clothed.”
Them?
I looked into my arms and found my shirt, pants, and undergarments. My cheeks flushed at the thought of him touching them, especially unwashed. Mortification tempered the fluttering in my chest. I watched his back while I took off his cloak and dressed.
“Okay,” I said, already hating what was coming next.
Aspen faced me, keeping his eyes level with mine, as he crouched, needle in hand. “This will hurt, but I’ll try my best to make it as painless as possible.”
I searched his face, noticing the soft planes, the openness of his eyes, and the gentle sincerity in his voice—a night and day difference from the guy who withdrew behind a cold mask.
“Okay.”
He nodded to my thighs. “May I?”
For reasons unknown, I gave him a small smile despite my nerves and said, “Oh, are you actually asking, princeling?”
“I do, in fact, know how to do that, sweetheart.”
“Hm… could’ve fooled me with your grabby hands.”
Oh, hell no, I was flirting.
Long lashes hooded his eyes as he peered up at me with twinkling amusement. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”No.
My wounds were inches away from my bottom, inches away from an intimate area, and about to be touched by fingers that vibrated against my skin. I almost hoped for pain, scared of what else I might feel.
