Page 123 of Wings of Lies
“Welcome to my world.” He walked around me, no longer concerned, like I wasn’t a threat.
I grabbed his arm and whipped him around to face me. “No! You don’t get to walk away this time!”
He wrenched his arm back, brows furrowed. A small patch of icy crystals attacked his skin, turning it angry and pink. He was lucky that was all I did to him after he shoved a knife in my back.
“I almost died because of you! A pack of Hellhounds almost killed me!” I jerked my shirt up to show him my scars and had the pleasure of seeing shame in his eyes. “I almost died because you set me up. I trusted you, and you handed me over to the Mother of Demons! You turned me over to be used and tortured!” I shrieked. “The only reason I got away from Aspen and Brock was because of some male in my head.”
I let my Infernus crawl further up his arm, surrounding his skin in ice. His face pinched. Seeing his pain helped a little. I thought about letting it consume him or at least leave angry patches all over his body, but without food, water, or proper rest, I felt the toll it was taking to hold the ice on his arm. I let my Infernus flow back into my body and sat against a tree.
Oliver’s eyes widened. “Looks like you’ve been practicing.”
“Well, when you’re shoved into enemy hands and have no other defenses, it’s kind of hard not to.”
“I’m sorry, Lu—wait, did you say Aspen?”
“Yeah, Aspen. The Tenebrous Prince. You know him?”
His expression hardened. “The prince has a knife with his name on it.”
“What’d he do, steal your favorite toy?”
“No, but him and his wretched court have my sister, and he works with a monster who killed my mother.”
“Marcus.”
He rose a brow. “How do you know that?”
I laughed, refusing to explain myself. “That’s rich.” I dug my nails into my palm, near to breaking my skin. “You tried to hand me over to a male who murdered your mother and sister.” I might’ve kept the flames at bay, but not the vitriol in my tone.
“She’s not dead!” he screamed, eyes flashing.
“Why would you let that piece of shit live!” I raged back. My Infernus opened an eye, eager to come out, but I pushed it away, not needing it.
Oliver’s eyes turned to emerald fire. “I tried! I tried to kill that murderous fuck and get my sister back, and this is what it got me!” he yanked his vest down and showed the mangled flesh on his chest. “Heheld a ball of his hell flame against my skin. He forced me to hear and smell the sizzle of my flesh and live in the agony of his slow torture so that he could hear my screams. Marcus could’ve killed me. But instead, he laughed and told me I was too pathetic to kill. He marked me. Here and here.” Oliver pointed to his chest and then to the strip of black hair. “Told me it was so I always remembered my place and that I’d never see her again.” He sank back against a tree opposite of me. “I tried,” he whispered.
I almost felt for him—almost. “How do you know she’s not dead? And why hand me over to him? I was going to help you, and you betrayed me to a male who is a lying scum bag.” Marcus wanted Oliver to suffer. He didn’t just leave him alive so he knew his place, but so he always suffered with the knowledge that his sister was either dead or in a kingdom that was unreachable without…
I glanced down at the cuffs at my ankles.
Without something infused with demon energies.
I had the one thing that could get him over the border to his sister, yet I said nothing. They wouldn’t come off without Aspen’s key.
“Why take her if they were only going to kill her?”
I could name a few reasons, but I kept them to myself.
He sighed, head falling back to gaze up at the body of the giant tree, squishing some blue mushrooms in the process. “I found a way to rescue my sister. But the help I gained came at one steep-ass price.” He flicked his gaze to his wrist, staring at his tattoo. “You’re not the only one with an angelic rune. Except mine is still active and forcing me to keep the deal I made.” He laughed. “I sold my soul.”
Did he mean he literally sold his soul or something else? Either way, it didn’t sound good.
He continued. “I’ve lived long enough where I’m not as naïve as I used to be. I called Marcus, told him about you, and acted like I believed he’d return my sister in exchange for you.”
I squinted at him, not yet understanding.
“It was a game—all of it. The male who had one of his cronies put this on me,” he shook his wrist forcefully. “Told me my next move was to hand you over.”
“Your next move?” I didn’t like the sound of that.
