Page 14 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)

Chapter

Eleven

LUCILLE

I knew the moment Moira laid eyes on us that we were screwed. Screwed in the sense that she was about to make our lives absolutely miserable, or we wouldn’t survive the Infernal Sixty.

“So these are the two warriors replacing Matt and Dusty.” Pure disdain bled through her words and leached into her face.

Warriors clearly wasn’t the word she wanted to use.

Did standing next to General Ronen make her think twice?

Not sure why. He didn’t care what she called us, not when he had similar feelings.

“You could place us in the Bowels,” I suggested, hopeful.

“No, we can’t,” General Ronen snapped, silencing whatever Moira was about to say. Her expression darkened at his words. But the anger she was directing at us should’ve been directed at the general or the king. It wasn’t like we chose to be here .

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Alexei said, smiling. “See you later, Nephilim.” He nodded at Oliver, then winked at me. “Lucy.”

My cheeks flushed again. Gah, I couldn’t control the annoying things. I gave him a flustered smile, then returned to our angry circle. That wasn’t an exaggeration either. Moira looked ready to stab me in the eyes. The general looked disgusted. Even Oliver looked annoyed.

But it finally made sense as he continued to gaze longingly after Alexei.

Oliver liked him—or at least found him attractive enough to want him.

I bumped his hip and leaned in to whisper, “I’d never stand in your way. He’s just… flirty.”

Oliver gave me a small smile, then pulled back when the general whistled at us. Freaking whistled. I shut my eyes and breathed deeply, calming the sudden itches breaking across my skin. I opened them when the pressure behind my eyes receded.

“Squad Leader Moira, these are your two recruits, Oliver and Lucille.” The general grimaced.

“Play nicely. Recruits, you’ll listen to everything your leader says and do everything she demands.

Don’t whine or come to me for help. The Tormentors Squadron is one of our four elite squadrons, and the king seems to think you’re both tough enough to be here.

” He flicked his gaze over us. “I suppose we’ll see if that’s true.

” He left with Rune, leaving us with Moira.

“Line up behind formation, recruits. We’ll start the Infernal Sixty with a ten-mile run.” She smirked, then headed to the front of the squadron .

“Did she just say ten miles?” Oliver surveyed the arena. “So Hell’s entire military will witness our wheezing disgrace as we run around this sand bowl?”

Shit, I hoped not.

“I’m definitely luscelering,” Oliver muttered as we lined up behind two females with long black hair.

We could cover ten miles in about ten minutes if we luscelered. It’d be easy. Yet, the mere thought of cutting corners filled me with anxiety. We wouldn’t become stronger by cheating.

“Oliver, we can’t?—”

One of the females in front of us turned around, and my stomach dropped at the sight of her face. Angry red burns marred her forehead down to her jawline. A milky white cloud covered one of her eyes, while the other gleamed a honey brown.

“Should you lusceler, Moira will punish you accordingly. You’ll only prove to everyone you don’t belong here,” she said with a slight accent.

But we didn’t.

“I’ve never felt the urge to prove myself to anyone, to be honest. What exactly is her punishment?” Oliver asked.

The second female turned around. She was the mirror image of her sister—the same honey-colored eyes, face shape, and hairstyle—but without any wounds. Or so I thought, until my gaze fell to her neck. I cringed, seeing the deep gash splitting her flesh, revealing glistening muscles beneath.

Why didn’t it bleed?

That must’ve been what Oliver had meant earlier—how people here didn’t exactly look… normal .

“It would be unwise to provoke Moira. Her punishments are severe,” she warned. “This is Ni”—she pointed at her twin with the giant neck gash—“and I’m Ichi.”

“Oliver”—he gestured to me—“and this is Lucy.”

Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he said, “So I keep seeing weird shit like that on people.” He pointed at Ni’s neck. “Do you just run on zero circulation, or does living in Hell give you some kind of immunity to having your neck sliced open?”

I internally cringed at his blunt humor, hoping they didn’t take offense. The last thing we needed was to make enemies within our squad when we already didn’t belong.

Ichi’s lips twitched. “They’re our soul wounds.

” At our confused expressions, she clarified.

“They’re our death injuries. Our souls take our wounds with us as we pass to Hell, and the closer to redemption we are, the more they fade.

Or you can petition the king to have a Soul Mender heal them.

We don’t have the Hellmarks for that, but we like watching our wounds fade—it gives us hope.

” She nodded to her sister. “I used to be completely blind, but now I’m only partially.

And soon, Ni will regain her tongue so she can speak again. ”

“I’m so glad I didn’t have breakfast,” Oliver mumbled, and Ichi responded with another polite smile. Ni, on the other hand, shook her head, unamused.

“You’ve angered quite a few people by ending up in this squad,” Ichi said. “I strongly recommend you keep your heads down and attempt to survive.” She glanced at our shoes. “At least you’re starting well. We’ll be running through slush for the next hour.”

Oliver laughed and reached out to Ichi, patting her shoulder like she’d told a good joke. She stepped away, his hand flopping to his side .

“You’re not joking.” Oliver’s laughter dried up. “We’re running ten miles in the cold, and you think we can do it in an hour?”

“Yes, every morning from here on out. It’s our warmup,” she stated, glancing toward the Bowels Squadron across the arena, her lips twisting with pity. “Our leaders usually don’t tell recruits the specifics of the Infernal Sixty.”

We followed her gaze to the far corner. Half the Bowels Squadron wore thicker clothing and boots—the ones who’d been here longer.

The other half wore various exercise gear in different degrees of coverage.

Some looked prepared for the outdoor run.

Others were about to regret it. One guy even sported shorts.

Oliver grimaced at the group. “Separating the wheat from the chaff.”

Survive or die. Wasn’t that what the general had said?

Even Ichi mentioned survival. So why should I be surprised by the lack of information, or by Alexei’s misleading words of wear exercise clothing ?

This was Hell. No one came here for the sparkling snow and evergreens.

Most were forced here because of their sins.

If I was surprised by anything, it should be Alexei’s advice on our clothing. If he hadn’t said anything, we’d be part of the chaff, slogging through slush, barely surviving the cold.

I glanced over at the blond warrior. He stood by General Ronen, conversing with a few others. Why he took pity on us, I wasn’t sure. But from now on, we’d need to always expect the unexpected—and probably worse—when it came to this place.

Moira yelled over all the noise, getting her squad’s attention. “Tormentors! To start, we’ll run to the Upper City of Hoar Hollow and back. Then we’ll have weight training. Easy first day. ”

“Easy my ass,” Oliver remarked.

Moira started to turn, then stopped. “Oh, and since we have two recruits who think they’re so elite , we’ll make things interesting.”

Heavenly Hell, I hated her smug tone.

“Last ones to the arena will be scrubbing the kitchens with Dorus for the next week.” She leveled me with a knowing look. “Happy running.”

I tilted my head, returning her saccharine smile while grinding my nails into my palms and shoving my Infernus’s whispers away.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” Oliver grumbled.

We all knew who’d be cleaning the kitchens with Dorus this week.

“Under no circumstances should you stop. Even if you have to walk,” Ichi advised.

I sighed and followed the Tormentors through the doors. Cold air blasted my face, instantly freezing the moisture in my nose. I tucked my hands into my coat sleeves, wishing I had gloves, and stood atop a large, snow-covered hill overlooking Hoar Hollow.

Below us, angular snow-capped roofs dotted the landscape, stretching wide and blending into the gloom of the gray, frigid day. From here, the city looked farther than a five-mile run. I just met Moira, but I wouldn’t put it past her to lie about the distance. I’d rather run around the arena.

Turning away from the slushy, endless path to Hoar Hollow, I stared longingly at the behemoth behind us.

The king’s castle didn’t compare to the stifling farmhouses and cabins I grew up in.

Its gothic architecture jutted into the sky, stirring a sense of the unexpected.

The black, iced-over walls shimmered with eerie reflections, and the floor-to-ceiling windows—like dark, glowing eyes—beckoned to the part of me that longed for something more. For adventure, danger, life .

And yet, beneath its grandeur, it was another cage—one that thrived on death .

“Lucy! Get your ass moving!” Oliver called out.

I slogged through the slush, feeling it splatter my thick pants and boots as I caught up with Oliver. He was surprisingly good at keeping his feet as we ran down the slick hill.

“Okay, we can do this.” Ichi and Ni were only a few yards ahead. So far, so good.

“Doesn’t take much skill to run down a gravel road, Lucy.”

A second later, Oliver hit a patch of compacted snow and slid, cursing. I grabbed his elbow before he could fall and raised an eyebrow at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

The hill gradually leveled out, and at the bottom, someone called, “Faster.”

Everyone picked up speed at a set of gates.

“Fuck-a-duck.”

We increased our pace.