Page 12 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)

Chapter

Nine

LUCILLE

A fter meandering the halls on unsteady legs, Oliver, Rune, and I stumbled upon the glorious kitchens.

A sweet female named Dorus gave Oliver and me a slice of quiche, and Rune a big hunk of raw meat.

On our way out, she handed us a handful of truffles, lightening the weight on my chest caused by the king’s words.

We snuck our forbidden treats into the library but left Rune outside the doors before settling in to read—she was harder to hide.

By lunchtime, I’d finished ten chapters—a tenth of the book. Oliver, however, was nearly halfway through. But his method of reading consisted of a quick glance before flipping the page. I wasn’t even sure that was classified as reading.

I was drawn to the sections about the King of Hell—how he analyzed the depths of souls before deciding whether to send them to a circle or redeem them. After all, he was my father. I wanted to understand the male who not only made my birth possible but whose land we were stuck in.

“Did you find anything useful?”

Oliver froze. “Uh…” He dragged his finger across line after line. “Maybe. It says that Hell has a lake that acts as a portal to different dimensions, but it doesn’t state the dimensions.” He checked the previous few pages and the ones ahead. “It doesn’t elaborate on the dimensions anywhere.”

“We should ask Cato,” I suggested.

Oliver hummed. “Can we trust him not to report to your father that we’re looking into Portal Lake without asking why?”

I grimaced. “Fine. Then who else could we ask?”

“Someone who isn’t close to the king or the general.”

“And that’d be?”

Oliver ran a hand through his wild two-toned bangs, having no answer.

Right. “We’ll just have to ask him for more books on Hell.”

“Yeah, okay. What have you been reading?”

“Not much besides how the king judges souls and everything you’d never want to know about the Seven Circles of Hell.”

Saying the words aloud brought to mind another piece of Miriam’s prophecy:

There once was a daughter of seven circles, hidden, protected, avoiding the hurdles.

That part came true. But that didn’t mean the rest of her prophecy would. Clearly, the king didn’t want me dead, or else I would be.

“Like?” Oliver prompted, bringing me out of my thoughts .

I found the perfect paragraph to read for him.

“Like… The Scission Circle—the sixth circle of Hell—favors slicing and maiming. The lord and his servants preside over the circle and take particular pleasure in using their sharp instruments on sinful souls—especially rapists. For males, the Scission Lord bludgeons the balls until they are pulp, then skins the pen?—”

“Yep, nope.” Oliver stole my book, slammed it shut, and handed me the third book we’d yet to touch. “Time for something lighter.”

There was nothing light about the third book— Celestial Powers, Weaponry, and Warfare.

We read late into the night, then trucked up to bed with Rune as our escort. Once snuggled under my sheets, I stared into my fireplace, ruminating on thoughts of escape and Aspen until my eyes closed.

I beheld the tall, ivy-woven arches with a sinking stomach. I didn’t want to be here. My heart still ached from Aspen’s cruel words. But I had little control over my dream-walks.

“Lucille?”

I stiffened, my pulse ratcheting. Cringing from the course field grass, I slowly turned toward his voice.

He stood beneath the oak tree. His dark uniform and cloak billowed in the breeze among the tree’s falling leaves.

“Aspen,” I said, wary. A strange urge screamed at me to go to him, but I held myself back.

He gave me a small smile. It seemed genuine, but I’d been fooled by him before. As he stepped closer, I instinctively backed away. A sharp rock stabbed the arch of my foot, and I lost my balance .

Aspen luscelered forward, catching me before I could hit the ground. He steadied me as I drank in his blue eyes—eyes that held no anger, no disgust. They were filled with concern and disbelief. As if he couldn’t believe I was real.

“See? I catch you when you fall,” he whispered. His calloused hands tingled against my bare skin. I glanced at his wrist, finding only white scars from previous inactive runes. The Hell Runes were gone.

“But—how? I don’t understand.” My head spun, trying to reconcile the Aspen before me with the one from before.

He righted me, and I winced, wishing I’d dreamt up shoes—or anything other than what I’d fallen asleep in. Barefoot in tight boyshorts and a strappy camisole, I had little protection from the goosebumps raised by the cool breeze or rough field grass beneath my toes.

A second later, as if someone had heard my mental plea, a pair of boots covered my feet.

I gaped. “What’s going on?”

Aspen grabbed my hand. “We have some things to talk about.”

I let him pull me toward the oak tree as I scrutinized his tilted lips. He seemed himself, but I didn’t trust it.

Aspen sank to the ground, leaning against the tree. He tugged my arm when I didn’t immediately join him. But I couldn’t sit.

He sighed, accepting my resistance, and let go.

“You dream-walked into my nightmare. Every night since they took you from me, similar scenes have played out in my mind. I’d hold you in my arms, and we’d talk until—” He paused, averting his gaze.

“You’d die. Either by someone else’s hands or”—his voice softened—“my own, when I was Hell Runed. ”

Unable to stand the ache in his tone, I lowered myself next to him. But I couldn’t bring myself to touch him—not yet.

“I didn’t think anything of it when the scenery in my nightmare stilled or our conversation diverted from what my subconscious usually imagined. You kept telling me you were alive, and all I could think was… not for long.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, and despite my need to reach out and comfort him, I couldn’t. I wanted to believe and trust him, but the vividness of the last dream-walk sank its claws into my mind. It had felt so real.

“Then you brought up the term dream-walker and told me you were the daughter of Hell, and I knew something was off about my nightmare. But that didn’t change the direction of my subconscious.

” He glanced down at his wrists. “The Hell Runes were carved into my skin, and I turned like I always did. But before I could kill you in my nightmare, I woke up. I’d never been able to wake myself up—I always had to watch you die.

“The moment I opened my eyes, I knew something was different. I followed my gut, searched our library for the term, and found nothing. It was odd, seeing as I swore I’d seen it in one of our books before.”

“So the Hell Runes weren’t real?”

“No.”

“But I felt your pain.”

He turned to me. “I thought I was about to kill you.” The shame and horror twisting his expression only made me question myself more .

“But I can’t feel any of your emotions now.” I wasn’t sure why I continued to doubt him. His expressions seemed genuine, his words sincere. He didn’t act like he was hiding anything from me or about to turn on me. Everything he said made sense. So why didn’t I trust him?

He shrugged and pressed his hand to my cheek.

“I can’t feel our tether anymore, sweetheart.

That’s why I thought you were dead.” His hand trailed to my lips, sending tingles across the sensitive skin.

“Sometimes I still wonder if you are, or if my nightmares have taken a turn for… well, I’m not sure if this would be better or worse. ”

If he couldn’t feel our tether, maybe my ability to feel his emotions was cut off too. But what did I feel before? Was it a fluke of the dream-walk? I didn’t understand this type of dream-walking. Or was being in Hell disrupting our connection?

“It was only a nightmare, Lucille. I’m fine.”

I was so close to giving in to his words, yet a small part of me still wanted to question him. He must’ve seen my wavering doubt.

“Watch,” he said. The top of his uniform vanished to reveal a pale, muscular chest. It was exactly what he’d done to my feet with the boots. A second later, thousands of Hell Runes appeared across his skin.

I recoiled, but they were gone just as swiftly.

“Whatever powers you use to come here, allow me to change things. I had suspicions when I woke up and confirmed them earlier with your boots.”

I bit my lip, holding back my creeping hope. “A nightmare?”

He smiled and slowly reached for my face, giving me time to pull away. I stayed put, and his smile widened as he removed my lower lip from abusing teeth. The playful lightness in his blue eyes chased away the last of my doubt.

“A nightmare,” he confirmed.

Delicious tingles spread across my skin as his thumb brushed along my mouth. His eyes followed the motion, enthralled. Desire overtook his expression, turning his smile into something more heated.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

I opened my mouth wider, letting his thumb graze my tongue. His eyes shot to mine.

“Then why don’t you?”

He laughed and shook his head before winding his hand through my hair and pulling my mouth to his. The tantalizing buzz of our skin warmed my body and calmed my mind. The tingling intensified as his tongue danced with mine, and I moaned.

I forgot how good it felt to kiss him.

“Have I ever told you what you do to me when you moan?” Aspen breathed, nipping my lip.

“No,” I gasped as he lay back on the ground, bringing me with him. His hard length pressed against my stomach, sending a shot of heat to my core.

If only it were lower.

“It makes me insane.” He trailed his mouth down my neck, passing my clavicle, and pausing just above my camisole. “It makes me want to do many, many , dirty things to you.”

“What things?” I whispered as he palmed the underside of my breast, his mouth hovering just above my covered nipple. All the while, his hard length throbbed against me .

We’d never gone beyond this. We’d only kissed in the woods near my house. The time when my powers took control was the closest we’d come to being truly intimate. And now, more than ever, I desired to take things past that—at least a little.

“Things with my fingers.” He flipped me over, then bit my nipple through my camisole before lowering his mouth to the top of my shorts. “Things with my tongue.”

Wet vibrations grazed the line of my waistband.

I arched into his mouth, hoping to bring him lower, hoping he would place his tongue on my needy center.

He smiled against my skin, peering up at me through hooded eyes.

They flickered with fire and held a taunting edge.

He knew exactly where my thoughts had taken me—but instead of easing the ache, he made it worse.

He kissed a path back up to my breasts, pulling up my shirt as he went.

Then he paused, gazing down at me. One second.

Two seconds. I writhed on the third. What was he waiting for?

A smugness glinted in his heated, dark eyes.

Slowly, he descended and wrapped his mouth around one nipple, biting.

I jolted from the pain, but he quickly soothed the ache with his tongue.

The combined sensations with the vibrations from our bond made me moan.

He groaned and crawled back up my body. “Things with my cock.”

I rubbed myself against him, craving friction. “So what’s stopping you?”

Immediately, my shorts and panties vanished. I gasped. I was completely naked beneath him. The only piece of clothing separating our bodies was his pants.

His eyes danced with sinful intent. “Nothing. ”

My core throbbed, my mind overridden with need. I spread my legs wider, showing him exactly what he had done to me, showing him where I needed him.

He stared at my drenched center, taunting me as he lowered his mouth, brushing his lips against my core before moving back up to my ear.

“Aspen,” I begged.

He smiled against my cheek, then his tingling fingers grazed my clit, and stopped.

“Don’t stop,” I groaned.

I couldn’t handle all this teasing.

“Moan for me, sweetheart.”

“I can’t just moan on?—”

He plunged his fingers inside me, and I came alive.

My head dropped back, my eyes fluttered, and I homed in on his scintillating touch.

His fingers thrust in and out, hitting a spot that made me beg—made me grind against his hand, calling out his name as pressure, unlike anything I’d ever felt before, built inside me.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you need.

” He continued his relentless pace, the sounds of his fingers inside my body obscene.

He sank deeper, hitting a spot that took me higher, then sucked my nipple into his mouth and bit down.

I cried out and split apart as the aching pressure shattered.

I pulsed around his fingers, and he continued his ministrations until my body relaxed and my moans quieted.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sound,” he said, removing his hand and slipping his fingers into his mouth. He groaned as he sucked me off his fingers, and my core throbbed again. “Or this taste.”

I didn’t know it would feel like that. Nor did I expect to want it again so soon.

He read the desire on my face and started unlacing his pants. Heavenly Hell, he was such a tease. Seconds from imagining them away, a noise sounded in the distance, and we stilled.

The flowers and dark sky blurred around us.

“Lucille? What’s happening?” Aspen’s form wavered, his voice dropping, as if he were fading away.

“I think it’s some kind of noise… from where I’m sleeping. I’m waking up.”

He gripped my arms. “Waking up where?”

“Hell.”