Page 98 of Wings of Lies
Aspen finally nodded, quiet and distracted, like he didn’t particularly care whether there was a giant skeleton-wearing creature behind us or that he had to go near it to get into the carriage.
When he walked back and the doors slammed shut with no incident, I heaved a sigh. It did nothing to relieve the tension in my shoulders or change the past few minutes.
Brock smacked the whip at his side into the horse’s rear. They took off at a canter. The carriage squeaked and rattled as we barreled through the forest. I gripped my seat, cringing as each bump shot into my newly stitched legs, and hoped not to be overrun by skeleton-headed creatures. Eventually, Brock slowed the horses when we covered a good amount of ground.
“They didn’t chase us,” I said, surprised.
“No, they said they’d give us time to leave before they did, and Prince Aspen’s a good deterrent,” Brock said, face twisting into a leer. “Speaking of… was it everything you hoped and dreamed?”
I stilled. He felt my desire. Just like he felt every ounce of embarrassment, anger, and mortification I felt afterward. So, he only asked that question to be cruel. This was his payback.
I had never wanted to escape them both more than I did now.
After what felt like hours of occasionally dodging moss, plugging my nose from the stench of the forest, and worrying about everything, my bladder was about to burst.
“I need to relieve myself,” I stated.
Brock grunted. “You couldn’t have done that before?”
“When was there time?”
He smirked. “You’re right. It’s hard to find the time when the prince’s needs need to be met. Although he seemed pretty put out, you must’ve only met a quarter of his needs. Don’t worry, he’ll find someone else later, per usual.”
Itches surged along my fingers, but for the first time, I shoved my energy down before the purple flame could burst out or take over. It wasn’t easy, and my head throbbed from concentrating, but what happened with Aspen would never happen again. But that didn’t mean I leashed my anger.
“At least a quarter is better than none. Which is the quota I assume you meet, with your wrinkly old-man skin, salt and pepper hair, and saggy balls.” I spat back.
Brock luscelered and slammed me to the ground. I gasped as pain split my ear. He straddled me, leaning down next to the side of my face.
“Talk to me like that again, and I’ll remove the rest,” he whispered, licking a dribble of blood off my neck and spitting it into my face.
The point of his dagger threatened to take my eye. So close, the blood slicking the silver blade gathered in my eyelash with each blink I couldn’t hold.
“Oh, and say anything about this to the prince, and I’ll give you a matching set.” He lifted off me, delighted. “Go pee, I’ll let his highness know. And if you get out of range, I’ll send him after you. I know how much you’ll love that.”
Once he retreated to tell Aspen, I stood on shaky legs. Long trails of warmth slid down my arm as I clutched the throbbing cut. Shock held back my tears.
He cut off the tip of my ear.
I walked away from the carriage and all its psychotic occupants, rearranging my bobby pins to keep my hair out of the blood. I glanced down at the keyhole of my cuffs. If only I could escape now.
Out of view, I squatted behind a large tree. After I relieved myself, I ripped some plush moss off the trunk, using it to wipe off my bloody hands, and pressed it against my open slice, seeing no other options.
White mist rolled in, snaking along gnarled roots and rising to the first shelf of branches.
That wasn’t creepy at all.
I rushed to wipe off more blood and leaves, but before I moved, a bony finger slid through a new line of blood dripping along my neck, freezing me.
The air in my lungs died as the skeletal finger slid underneath a brown-speckled deer skull. It was a Drune. A Drune that lapped at its finger with slow, languid sweeps.
Mmmm. Such an exquisite flavor.
No, not another one. I didn’t need any more voices in my head. Especially ones moaning about the taste of my blood.
Mmmm. So many secrets. And so much hidden power. No wonder she kept you suppressed and hidden,the Drune said, stepping closer. Itsvoice sounded like old trees creaking in the wind. Drawn out and deep.
I jerked my attention to the skeletal holes where its eyes should’ve been. The dark depths curled with mist. “My mom?” I asked.
