Page 25 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)

Chapter

Sixteen

LUCILLE

M y legs, arms, abs, and feet all ached in ways I didn’t know were possible—and we still had seven weeks left. The general had perfected the art of avoiding me like I had some kind of disease. Then there was the lack of progress in finding an escape.

The days blurred together—a mix of punishing water abuse, freezing runs, weight training, and the king’s illusions.

My exhaustion went beyond muscle pain. And that wasn’t even including the daily library visits, or my mom draining me to survive.

I could’ve used Sam’s crystal to help, but I was saving it for when I absolutely needed it.

So I suffered, the weight of the world and my decisions threatening to crush me. But I couldn’t stop.

On our one so-called day off, Oliver and I scrubbed the kitchen. Like our bruised ribs from that damned carrot-top weren’t punishment enough.

Half asleep, I dragged my arm across the metal counter. Oliver wasn’t much better off. His head rested in his hand as he half-heartedly scrubbed the sink. After several minutes of mindlessly wiping the same spot, I sank to the floor beside Rune.

She gave me a nice wet lick and nudged me back into her large body, as if encouraging me to rest. Maybe she knew how exhausted I was.

Unable to help myself, I cozied into her warm shadow fur and fell asleep.

“Watch,” the familiar voice whispered.

I opened my eyes, expecting to see the female in the red and black cloak who’d helped me regain my memories in Elora—but stopped short.

Chains dug into my limbs, binding me to a bed designed for luxurious comfort.

It was oxymoronic. Buttery silk sheets, crafted of the finest threads, draped over my legs, while my head rested against a plush velvet headboard.

The softness of the fabrics mocked the rough chain links pinching my skin.

The room around me—though difficult to take in with my neck held in place—seemed vast and decadent, from the faint glow of the crystal chandelier to the gossamer purple fabric swaying above my head near a tall, arched window.

And yet, amidst all this luxury, panic shoved at my lungs, and a dark hole of nothingness threatened to consume my fear.

A door squeaked to my left. I twisted my head as much as I could and stiffened .

I’d only ever seen her once, but once was enough. I could never forget those scarlet-ringed eyes that twinkled with cunning and menace, or her unearthly darkness that drew me in. The Mother of Demons was both captivating and terrifying—a cataclysmic force of nature.

She glided toward me, dressed in a sensual gown as dark as her black mane. Her painted lips spread into a wide smile as she revealed an ebony feather in her hand and pressed it against my wrist.

I jerked as the tip stabbed me, but I couldn’t go anywhere.

“Don’t,” I rasped—then something shifted.

The dream changed.

It was no longer me on the bed, but Aspen. I stood by the bedroom door, watching Lilith brush the tips of her nails down his cheek. She sank onto the edge of the mattress, rattling his chains.

“Do you have anything you’d like to share?”

He clenched his jaw, staring at her with defiance.

“Oh, my darling prince, I thought you had learned.”

She pressed down on the feather. Every muscle in his body tensed, veins popping. Lilith’s lips twisted into a satisfied smile as she dragged the feather down, splitting his flesh. He screamed, wrenching at his restraints as blood dripped from his wrists.

Shaking off my shock, I sprinted to the bed and tackled Lilith to the ground—then the dream changed again.

“Keep watching.” The female’s voice echoed, everywhere and nowhere at once.

I tried to find her, but someone else caught my attention.

She sat on the edge of a blue pond, surrounded by white Celestrus, her long black hair flowing down her favorite sweaterdress .

“Mom?”

She twitched, as if hearing my voice, but continued to swish her legs in the water and stare ahead.

“Behind you!”

Still, she didn’t turn. It was almost as if she drifted farther away, yet neither of us moved. Panicked, I ran toward her. But no matter how fast I moved, she always slipped farther out of reach.

“Each ripple alters the course for what’s to come. Remember that, Lucille,” the female said.

“Who are you?” I shouted. But my words were lost as my dream shifted into a nightmare.

My back pressed into a cold metal table, filling me with dread as I stared at the rusted butcher chains dangling from the ceiling.

I knew where I was. I knew whose footsteps sounded behind me.

I swallowed hard and squeezed my eyes shut.

“It’s just a nightmare,” I whispered to myself.

But everything felt too real, and shutting my eyes only made me more aware of the heavy metal pinning me down.

A blade screeched across the table, and I tensed.

“Open your eyes,” the female said.

“No.” I squeezed my lids tighter.

“You need to open your eyes. Remember!”

“Like I could ever forget!”

The terrible squeal of the blade drowned my words. Then it stopped. I knew what came next, and I didn’t want to watch as Michael drove the blade into my flesh.

In my nightmares, he didn’t talk. He didn’t demand answers. He only stabbed me—over and over and over again .

“It’s just a nightmare,” I begged myself to believe. “Wake up!”

“You are not helpless! Listen to me!” she demanded. “Look and remember my words!”

I couldn’t look. I could only shriek, enduring his abuse forever.

“Lucy,” someone said.

“Please!”

It needed to end.

“Lucy!”

Something zapped me, and the torture dissolved.

Alexei crouched in front of me, mini lightning bolts zinging between his fingers. “There’s Sleeping Beauty. Having a nightmare?”

I jerked up and swallowed, my pounding heart throbbing in my ears. “Alexei?”

I looked around, spotting Rune’s glowing eyes and Oliver sitting beside me, looking horrified. Rubbing my wrists, I gulped down air, trying to calm the terror prickling along my arms. “Why are you here? What’s going on?”

He nodded at Rune. “She interrupted my boxing match with Ronen after she and Oliver couldn’t wake you. You were screaming.”

The lightning between his fingers vanished, and he helped me off the ground. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

“Bullshit,” Oliver snapped.

My hands shook, and my skin felt clammy. I probably looked like a mess, but I wasn’t about to talk about it in front of Alexei or the general. Even if I explained everything to them, what could they possibly do ?

Maybe it was from the king’s illusions, or from Moira constantly threatening to restrain me, but for the past week and a half, instead of dream-walking, I dreamt of the same three things: Aspen, my mom, and my torture. And the horror always started with that female’s voice.

I wanted to believe they were just nightmares, but a part of me wasn’t sure.

I never dreamed. I only dream-walked or slept through the night.

So what were these?

Was she doing it—the female who guided me to Elora? Would Cato or the king know?

“I’ll be fine,” I said, biting my lip and glancing at Rune and the general watching us.

Alexei raised his brows, tilting his chin down as if to say he didn’t believe me. “Why don’t I show you two around town?”

“I—Why?”

First, Ronen had Alexei come wake me up—which, if he despised me so much, I figured he’d let me suffer. And now Alexei wanted to take us out?

He stepped closer, fingering a piece of my hair. “Can’t I just be a nice male who wants to take a beautiful lady and her friend to a warm spot with good food and drinks?”

“You could. But my track record says that’s not likely.”

Alexei smiled. “Then you’ll just have to figure out my ulterior motive while we’re there.”

I narrowed my gaze.

“Come on.” He laughed. “I bet you both are hungry. Plus, you two need to see something other than the castle and arena. ”

I was hungry. And by how dark it appeared outside, Oliver and I slept through lunch. But more importantly, Alexei was always by the general’s side. Even if he had an ulterior motive, maybe we could use it to learn something.

“Okay, sure,” I said. “Oliver?”

“Anything to leave this castle.”

After bundling up, Alexei led us to a large outdoor barn.

Long, black wooden planks lined the building, and brown trim broke up some of the darkness.

Unlike the castle, the barn had the right number of windows.

The castle almost had too many, making me feel exposed as I walked down the red-carpeted halls.

He opened two dark wooden doors. “This will save your legs for your next run.”

Black sleighs with red detailing lined the barn.

Genuine joy lifted my lips, pushing away the aftershocks of my nightmares.

“So is this how the souls and blood-banded move around when you’re not trying to torture yourselves with running?” I mused, stepping into the building.

Alexei snorted. “Actually, when we’re not in the mood for torture, we enjoy flying—or we blood-banded who have wings do. Angelic souls, unfortunately, lose their wings and powers if they’re sent to Hell, so sleighs are their best friends.”

I frowned. “But Ni used her power?—”

Alexei cut off my question. “Hell is all about punishment and sacrifice, but also redeeming. So it depends on what Lucifer decides to take from you when you die. Most angels’ wings are ripped off like Lucifer’s were when Hell was created.

But as angels ascend and make it through the Seven Circles of Hell, they can earn them back. ”

“And if he takes their power, will they earn it back?” Oliver chimed in, looking more intrigued than he should.

“Depends. Usually, you can only earn both back when you ascend to Heaven—if you ascend.”

“Are you able to choose which you earn back?” I asked.

“Not sure on that one. That’s a question for the twins or another dead angelic soul,” he said, then put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

“What was that for?”

Alexei gave me a handsome smirk, his crystal blues sparkling with mirth. “Something has to pull the sleigh, beautiful.”