Page 78 of Wings of Lies
“What are you talking about?”
Overcome by an urge to touch him, I brushed my thumb against his scratchy stubble and the raised mark. It sent a shock into the pad of my finger, making me jump. He latched onto my wrist, pulling my hand away.
“It’s a scar. I’ve always had it.”
“Scars don’t glow.”
Disbelief indented the lines of his forehead. He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it as he noticed Brock returning. Releasing my wrist, he considered me for a second more before limping away to the despicable fallen angel.
He was hurt, and a part of me fiercely didn’t like it.
I walked over to the stump Aspen vacated, staring at his cloaked back, and sat on the edge.
It looked and felt like a scar, but last I checked, light did not gleam from scars. Maybe he was a demon. But that thought seemed wrong. The cobalt ring didn’t signify demon. I swear it didn’t.
“Prince Aspen went hunting. If you want to eat, you need to set up camp,” Brock snapped. It surprised me—not the snapping itself, but that it was all he did. I attempted to escape. I figured he would have broken my next wrist.Unless Aspen didn’t tell him. But he made it sound like he did when he explained Brock’s sensing abilities.
I kept my eyes on his boots, refusing to look at his disgusting face. “Good thing I don’t want to eat.”
“Too bad,” he pushed me off the stump. “I’ll shove squirrel down your throat if I have to.”
Only if I can shove a knife down yours.
My knees knocked into the hard ground. “Is squirrel the only damned animal you have to eat around here?”
“Unless you want to puke your guts up or hallucinate from eating something else, I’d keep your trap shut.”
I wished he’d take his own advice.
“Hurry up,” Brock threatened, striding away.
Torn between staying on the ground to see what he would do and following orders, I listened. I stood, refusing to brush off the grime digging into my palms and knees, and I set up camp forBrock.
Aspen returned later with four giant gray squirrels, skinned and ready to be cooked on a wooden spit. We ate. Or they did. I nibbled every time Brock glanced up from his meal, not wanting his grimy fingers anywhere near me, and shredded the rest. It was hard to have an appetite when I lost my only chance at escape.
The sun sank. Our clearing turned multiple shades of orange.
After the show I put on, I laid my head on my stiff pad, gazing at Elora’s blue moon. Goosebumps pebbled my skin underneath my leathers despite the glowing fire I lay next to, but no matter how close I scooted to it, warmth never reached me.
Brock slept soundly to my left. The demons had yet to return, and Aspen—I shot him a glance. He sat on his stump, sharpening his knives and keeping watch.
Feeling my stare, he looked over. For a moment, as he held my gaze, not smiling, but not glaring either, something wiggled beneath my bitter hate. I shoved the feeling away by flipping over and closing my eyes.
Chapter
Twenty
Iinvaded the mind of yet another past version of myself. The cuffs didn’t block my dream-walking abilities. Ready and hopeful to find more information about my mom, I let the memory unfold.
It wasa month after the big reveal of who I was, the prophecy of my life, and my explosive episode. A month, and still, we hadn’t worked on my emotions or powers. Instead, she had been monitoring my state like a helicopter parent and finally caved to give me an iPod to appease my restlessness. Last week, after getting sick and tired of wearing turtlenecks and baggy sweatshirts, she found out I no longer had my amulet and had a conniption, like full-on took a couple of her favorite chicken plates and slammed them to the floor. Afterward, she screamed at me for being so reckless andlosingit in the forest at our previous house. Things went downhill from there, which was why, after another screaming match, I was in another forest next to our fourth house, listening to music to calm down.
She allowed my space because her powers couldn’t break through the itches—not one bit. I both loved and hated it. So, the next best thing was storming out of the house with my headphones and calming down away from her. Plus, it sucked to see the absolute terror on her face when the flickering purple fire took hold.
I wasn’t sure who she was more scared of—me, my father, the council, the queen, or the one with the ability to sense when I used my power.
A snap in the forest stole me from my musings. I pulled out a headphone, searching between the tall pines. When something moved, I jerked to my feet.
“Who’s there?” I squinted, making out a figure hiding behind a trunk. My hands prickled, signaling my Glory. “Come out. Or I’ll…”What? Erupt in flame because I’m scared and hope they see me as a threat while my legs wobble uncontrollably? Yep, I could already see it going in my favor.
