Page 88 of Wings of Lies
“It’s okay?” I paused to inhale quick breaths. “I drowned.” I inhaled again. “I almost died!” And my wounds were bleeding, which meant I needed to ask for his help once again, proving for the umpteenth time how pitiful and defenseless I was.
“Breathe,” he said, emphasizing his word with a slow breath, like I didn’t know what he meant.
Heavenly hell. “I can’t help it.” Air, I needed air. “This panic stuff—happens!”
Aspen’s face lightened. “Panic attacks?” he asked.
Was he holding back a… laugh? “Are you—mocking me?”
“No, reassessing. I knew you were naive, but I didn’t expect you not to know what a panic attack was.”
“I know—what it is.”
He tilted his head to the side. “And?”
What did Oliver say? “Has to do—with—thoughts.”
Aspen grunted. “More accurately, your fear. So, what are you so scared of, Lucille?”
Him, the man in my head, my mom, this world, the lack of information I had, the queen, my father for reasons I couldn’t remember.Everything.But like hell I’d tell him that. None of this was supposed to happen. I was supposed to go to Elora, find my mom, get my answers, and return to the normal life we were living, not becomea prisoner and learn about all the enemies I had. Or learn about how weak I was because my mother refused to train me and my powers.
My vision speckled.
“Breathe, damn it. Stop panicking.”
“That—doesn’t—help!” I heaved.
“What are you so scared of?”
“Why—would—I—tellyou?”
He grabbed my face between his palms, forcing me to lock eyes with him. Pleasant electrical shocks tingled my cheeks.
“I said breathe, not stop breathing.”
“You—should’ve thought of that—before grabbing my face,” I snapped, hating that his touch reminded me of before.
He stared at me, blue eyes illuminated, pressing more firmly. Unusual warmth joined the tingles, soothing my chilled skin. A sense of calm washed over me from him. The pressure in my chest eased, and Aspen’s handsome face stopped blurring.
“There, that wasn’t too difficult, was it?”
His soul-piercing gaze rattled me as much as his gentle hands and my uncanny ability to sense his emotions at random. I closed my eyes, wanting to hate every single thing about him. I didn’t want to be attracted to my jailor, nor did I want the tingles against my cheek to affect me so. But as his hands sent tantalizing fire into my skin, I was, and it did.
“How’d you do that?” I whispered, happy that my breaths were back to normal.
“Do what?”
Give me a sense of peace I haven’t found in a long time.I couldn’t say that to him, though. This was the Aspen who took girls to his queen to be tortured, who left me with Brock to be abused. Thiswasn’t the stranger I met in the woods who wanted me to be safe. No, for some reason, that Aspen disappeared.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” He brushed his thumb along my cheekbones and tucked strands of my wet hair behind my ear. My slowing heart rate fluttered, ignoring my rational mind.
The nickname didn’t have its usual mocking tone. This time, it was gentle and kind, melting my insides. That wasn’t okay. But in between the melting and my whirling thoughts, the throbbing screamed louder.
“Aspen?”
“Sweetheart?” he whispered back.
Stop. I just wanted him to stop with all his mind games.But I didn’t say that either.
