Page 53 of Destruction of Two
Slowly I push myself up from the grounds. The heat of the flames kiss my skin when I pass by. Before I lower myself down in front of him, he stands abruptly. Sweaty palm brush over my knuckles as he holds our hands between us.
“Don’t pity me, Izara.” I stare up at the sweetest man I’ve ever known and I don’t know what to say to him. “Don’t ever pity someone for the choices they consciously make.”
His words flash Shade’s offer through my mind, dropping a gnawing sensation right through my stomach. I shove aside the things I too should be confessing and instead tip my chin up to skim my lips along his.
“Tell me what to say then. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
A hint of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.
“Actually, you can extend your wings. As far as they’ll go,” he instructs.
My brow scrunches and it only causes him to smirk even more.
“Yesterday I overheard Professor Ravenstorm telling the headmaster you have the widest wingspan in the academy.”
Still, I look up at him with confusion.
Phoenix stands though and the sight of his smile is almost alarming and unnatural. “Aww, is your ego bruised that your girlfriend might be packing a larger span than you?”
Syko rolls his pitch black eyes but when all four of them surround me, I can tell this is actually a real thing.
“You really want to compare? Really?”
“Oh let it go, Syko. I’m sure yours are average.” Saint claps the nephilim on the shoulder with the most antagonizing smirk. “I’m told size isn’t really important anyway. The motion of the ocean and all that. Although tiny wings won’t catch much of an ocean breeze, will they?”
Syko’s elbow comes back swiftly and before I even see the blow Saint is holding his stomach, groaning with pain and laughter shaking through his body.
I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now.
My eyebrow arches but he just waits for me to show him what I’m working with.
Jesus my men are incredibly petty.
“Take your shirt off,” I say, my palms pushing to my hips as I pretend this is actually a topic of importance.
His white teeth sink into his lower lip and my facade of self assuredness goes right out the wind when he reaches for the back of his shirt and makes slow work of dragging his white shirt up every hard inch of ab he possesses.
The shirt is tossed and forgotten in the dirt like my ability to think.
Deep down, I know this is all just a distraction to pull us out of the memories of our dark pasts. Maybe that’s what I like about this absurd predicament.
Or maybe it’s just his ability to find that charming smile when life gives him nothing at all to smile about.
Smoldering dark eyes are heavy against me but I square my shoulders, and then I too pull off my academy tee shirt. I stand in a black lace bra that has me instantly aware of how cool the night air is. His eyebrows lift. Someone clears their throat. Nothing but the stir of our breaths are whispered between us.
Until the sound of skin shredding rips away my confidence. Blood drips to the ground, sliding down Syko’s broad shoulders. He never once flinches but every muscle in his body flexes as his wings extend to their full length. With crimson staining his skin, his body rigid and glistening with sweat, he’s never looked so big before. He’s an intimidating beast, all sinister beauty and alluring destruction.
With a single step his bare chest is brushing mine, pebbling my nipples beneath the thin lace.
“Your turn,” he whispers challengingly.
This is so ridiculous. I cannot believe I’m comparing wing size right now.
I also cannot believe I’m petty enough to trash talk him before I do it.
“You’re not going to cry when you lose, will you?” My lips give a taunting pout and a bout of puppy dog eyes that have him shaking his head at me with a smile.
Saint’s snickering laughter hums through the night.
