Page 42 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)

Chapter

Twenty-Five

LUCILLE

I blinked open my eyes to a ceiling of angels with brilliant white wings standing on fluffy clouds, surrounding a star of glowing light. I tensed. This wasn’t my room. But the longer I stared at their serene faces, as if the light alleviated all their stresses and pains, the more I relaxed.

Crystals dangled in the window, scattering rainbows across the stone floor and bed. I smiled, feeling at peace in this healing room. Then I glanced to my other side and stiffened.

The general slouched in a chair, sleeping right next to me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again—he was still there. His head rested in his hand, the tattoo of the Greek word truth peeking out from under the sleeve of his black sweater. The soft, sculpted planes of his face held me captive. This wasn’t the version of the general I knew .

He twitched in his sleep, and I smiled. How many people had seen General Ronen so unguarded, with soft rays of light hitting his cheeks?

He wasn’t in uniform, nor did he have his swords.

Not even Rune was here. It was just him, vulnerable and at ease.

Something fluttered in my chest as I took in this rare, gentle sight.

He looked almost young. Approachable. Unthreatening.

I held back a snort. As if . Maybe in his sleep, if I ignored the dark tattoos spiraling down his neck, expanding across his muscular torso, and forgot all our previous interactions—the cold, unimpressed looks, the doubts he voiced about me—then maybe I could almost believe there was a tender male beneath that lethal, unfeeling shell.

I panned down to his wrinkled slacks and large leather shoes. Hmm… I honestly thought they’d be bigger. I snorted, covering my mouth to muffle the sound, and traveled back up his sculpted body, pausing on the dark spots staining his sweater, then met piercing gold eyes.

My smile dried up.

General Ronen straightened, the softness melting from his features. There was the general I knew.

We stared at each other in silence. My heart picked up speed under his unrelenting gaze.

He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. But his nostrils flared, and the muscle in his jaw ticked.

My palms turned clammy, and I didn’t want to be the one to break the silence.

Like I didn’t want to be the one who always broke eye contact.

But I couldn’t handle the anxiety thrumming through my body. He was too intense.

“Is that blood?” I asked, pointing at his sweater.

“Yes,” he growled, standing to his full height .

I shifted in bed, sitting up straighter. “Mine.” I assumed.

His eyes flashed black, and he nodded, narrowing his gaze to my hand with Ni’s cuts. He glared at the healed scars like they were a personal affront.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked, analyzing the sharp angles and details etched into my palm.

He brought his heated glare back to my face, the muscle in his jaw pounding. Every line in his body pulled taut, like he was seconds away from exploding. My fingers twitched on the bedspread, wanting to shield myself from the wrath I knew was coming.

“Has something happened to your tongue, General?”

His hands splayed at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from choking me. His glare turned downright murderous.

I swallowed my nerves and looked away. “Have I done something to upset you?”

His hand shot out and gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his pitch-black eyes. I wrapped my sweaty palm around his wrist, tugging against his grip.

“Did I hurt Rune or Ni?”

I didn’t think I had. I’d tried to protect both. But why else would he look like he wanted to kill me?

He shook his head.

“They’re both alive, then?”

His chest heaved, his shadows snaking around his hand and brushing every inch of my face. The touch was silky. Affectionate. The opposite of his tight hold and unforgiving attention.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, a little more bite in my words now .

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, his voice a vicious, soft snap.

“What about the fact I told you not to push your limits? What about the fact that you shielded Rune and left no energy for yourself? What about the fucking fact I had to catch your unconscious body while it plummeted off the cliff!” His voice rose with each word.

“You almost died !” He released me and turned, pacing in front of the bed.

“Rune needed?—”

“Rune would’ve been wounded, but she would’ve survived. You almost didn’t!” He turned back to me, the wooden footboard creaking beneath his punishing grip. “Seven Hells, Lucille.”

I startled at my name. He never used it.

He straightened, crossing his arms. “I don’t know whether you lack skill, intelligence, or any sense of self-preservation.”

My face flushed at his accusation. “I was protecting myself and Rune.”

“Except you weren’t. If Rune hadn’t signaled me, you would’ve either died from Divine Wasting or drowned in Portal Lake.”

I turned away, my cheeks burning with shame, hiding behind the veil of my hair.

He was right. I’d pushed myself too hard.

With Rune, yes—I couldn’t bear seeing her hurt—but the rest had been instinct and fear.

I hadn’t wanted to burn Ni with my Glory, so I’d shielded instead.

But that was where my strategy ended, and the weight of my power caught up to me.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” I whispered, eyes fixed on the open book on the end table beside the chair.

“So we’ll train until you do.”

I frowned. “We’ll? ”

“Yes. You got your wish. I’ll meet you at your rooms tomorrow evening.” With that, he turned and left.

I sat frozen, dumbfounded by his change in tune. And that was when Lucifer walked in.

“Lucille, you’re awake.”

I nodded, still trying to process the words—or more accurately, the tirade—I’d just endured.

“I assume the general briefed you on your additional power training sessions?” Lucifer asked, clasping his hands behind his back as he looked down at me with narrowed eyes.

“Yes.”

“Good. From what the general and healer reported, you need them.” The disapproval in his tone was unmistakable.

I clenched my jaw and dropped my gaze to his shiny red shoes. I didn’t need another lecture.

“How are you feeling?” His voice softened slightly, but there was still a sharp edge to it.

“Fine.” Nothing hurt, and I was sure Sam had replenished my energy once again.

“I’m sure those two days of rest did you well.”

Two days?

“Did anyone visit me?”

Lucifer gave me a curious look. “The general and I came by a few times.”

I sighed, feeling a slight tug in my chest. But I nodded, accepting his answer even though it stung .

Lucifer sank into the chair beside me, reached across the space, and took my hand. He flipped my palm over, aligning it with his own to reveal a mark etched into his skin—one that almost mirrored mine.

I glanced up at him in surprise. “What are they?”

“After all your reading and our conversations, what can you tell me?”

He was testing me now?

I refrained from rolling my eyes and thought back.

The only time Lucifer had mentioned cutting his hand was when describing the process of opening the gates or using Portal Lake.

I’d assumed he meant a quick slice. But now, seeing his palm, I realized it was far more intricate.

The lines carved into his skin were a mixture of old and new scars, some faded, others still raw.

A pattern emerged—strikingly similar to mine—woven into the red of his recent wounds.

Portal Lake bridged the circles. To travel to a specific one, he’d need a way to connect with it.

“They’re sigils,” I said. “They guide your travel to the circle of your choosing.”

“Yes. My most recent sigil represents Earth. Yours represents the Immolation Circle.”

I snapped my head up. “Why would Ni try to send me there?”

Lucifer’s jaw tightened as he dropped my hand. “That’s what the general is working on now.”

“But why would she even think it would work?” I pressed, my mind spinning.

Unless Ni knew how Portal Lake worked—and she knew I was Lucifer’s daughter. But for that, someone would’ve had to tell her.

Lucifer’s stern expression told me he already suspected who that might be.

“I haven’t told anyone!” I protested .

“Someone did,” he replied, sitting back and crossing his arms. “Perhaps your Nephilim friend?”

I shook my head. “No.” Oliver would never do something so reckless. He knew the stakes. Still… he had a tendency to run his mouth when he wanted, and he did enjoy gossip. He could’ve let something slip while training with Ni. “I don’t think so,” I muttered, less certain now.

Lucifer stood, the rings of his irises glowing. “Well, you better find out who else he spoke to, or a maimed palm will be the least of our problems.”

He left without another word, and I collapsed back onto the bed in frustration.

A few moments later, Sam walked in. He started scolding me again, but his was different. Less angry. More concerned. He handed me another small crystal.

“Why only one?” I asked, eyeing my saving grace.

“Because,” Sam said with a shrug, “it’s a fragment of a dead Virtue’s pendant. They’re rare and difficult to come by.”

Angels didn’t die of old age. That meant this crystal had come from someone who’d been killed. Possibly someone close to Sam.

I swallowed, feeling the weight of the unspoken loss. “Thank you,” I murmured.

He gave me a small smile, followed by another scolding, then released me on the condition that I’d take better care of myself.

I sighed and picked up the book on the end table, reading the cover. I recognized the title.

I smiled.

So he did visit me.