Page 54 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)

Chapter

Thirty-Five

RONEN

T he heavy wooden door loomed ahead, reinforced with Ember Metal and runes.

The sight of it never ceased to unnerve me.

I unlocked the door with my key and blood.

The back of my neck prickled. My muscles coiled, knowing precisely what would happen when I hit the bottom of the stone steps.

I fisted my hands. After the numerous times I’d been down here, you’d think I would finally be rid of this fucking anxiety—but not once over the years did it let up.

I never went down here if I could help it.

But being the general didn’t always allow for that.

In the dungeon, the long hallway of dark cells flashed before my eyes, taking me back to my past. No longer were the bars bare Ember Metal; now they were painted white, along with the stones beneath my feet, the wall sconces, and the walls themselves—everything glistened with sickening white.

All that was missing was Gabriel and his encouraging smile.

“You plan to stand there all day? I mean, I don’t mind. You’re a nice piece of meat to look at, but could you walk closer to the flame so I can see you better?” Anya’s voice snapped me out of the past.

Usually, I couldn’t take myself out of the memory for minutes. It typically played out to the very end, forcing me to relive his death all over again—a death that could’ve been prevented if not for that fucking controlling bond.

I rubbed my wrists, my shoulders easing, grateful for Anya’s rasp—our resident, no-good, annoying soul who’d gotten herself thrown in here until her next Judgment Day.

“Are you still planning to rot in here instead of redeeming yourself?”

She leaned her head back against the damp wall and stretched out her legs. “Safer in here than out there.”

“And what would you know about out there?”

Anya was only a human who used to practice divination on Earth. I never believed humans had much skill, or any power at all, really. That was reserved for angels and demons. But then Anya would say something that made me wonder if she did have some foresight.

She shrugged. “Only that it’s best not to get attached to anyone or anything. Things are changing, baby—as you well know.”

I almost indulged her by asking another question, but I caught the mischievous glint in her expression.

She was egging me on. She wanted me to get sucked into her words.

Even if she did believe it was safer down here, she received little engagement.

She didn’t need to eat or drink. She wasn’t sneaky enough to require a personal guard, and the closest prisoner was six cells away without the ability to talk. Her socialization came from me.

I didn’t understand how she wasn’t insane after all these months. If I hadn’t had Gabriel, I would’ve lost my mind. I would’ve completely given up.

He was the only reason I was able to escape.

Sighing, I took out a pencil and my piece of runed parchment, tore off the rune to deactivate its connection to the ranking board, and shoved them through the bars. It wasn’t much, but it could help her void of boredom and loneliness, at least a little.

Anya glanced at my offering, then up. “Why?”

“Because I know.” I dropped it in her cell. She could use it or leave it. Then I strode back to Ni.

She smiled the moment I stepped into view, or whoever had control over her did. She crinkled her runed parchment and set it aside.

I sent a shadow into her cell, forced it into a solid, sharp point, and sliced just above her neck. Black gunk oozed out. Internally cringing, I let my shadows absorb the abhorrent substance and brought it to my lips. I entered her mind, standing in the center of the shattered pieces.

Her thoughts and memories resembled Silas’s—even her manic smile. What didn’t was the way she responded.

“Who are you?” I demanded for… honestly, I’d lost count of how many times I’d asked that question .

On the outside, Ni only smiled, but inside, the pieces of her mind collected to form a clear thought: What makes you think I’m one person?

I tried to latch onto the thought and follow it to memories, but it slipped through my fingers as if it hadn’t come from Ni at all. Not for the first time, I wondered if she was still even in there.

We didn’t understand the demon disease. It killed blood-banded. It gave control over the soul. It changed their blood, their appearance, fractured their minds. But that was as much as we had figured out.

“Are you Lilith?”

Laughter vibrated through Ni’s brain, shaking the pieces before coalescing into a thought: Oh, darling, I’m not going to tell you. It’s so much more fun to keep you guessing.

My hands curled around the bars of her cell, squeezing until the Ember Metal dug into my skin.

“How did you get into this circle?”

Technically, we didn’t. Just our infection did. But I know what you meant, and it’s pretty clever on our part. I’m not surprised you or your king have failed to figure it out.

I glared at the whirling colors of Ni’s mind.

Don’t beat yourself up, darling. You’ll figure it out—once it’s too late.

Her thoughts lacked sound, but I could feel the confidence in her words grating against my mind.

“Why do you want to kill Lucille?”

Kill her. Burn her. Steal her. Bleed her dry. So many options, but only one will suffice for our bigger picture .

I gripped the metal bars with bone-crushing force, refraining from unlocking the cell and cleaving her head from her shoulders.

Each time I interrogated her, she gave us breadcrumbs—just enough new information to make us keep her alive, but not enough to act on.

And each time, she said shit like that to rile me up.

I leashed my shadows before they could rip apart her brain, but just as I left her mind, she gave me one final thought: Her time’s about up, General.

Her words slithered into my chest, coiling tightly and squeezing. I glared into her smiling face, then stormed out of the dungeon.

“Don’t get attached,” Anya called after me.

She didn’t have to tell me twice. There were only two people in this dimension I cared about. Who I trusted with my life. Two people I knew wouldn’t betray me, use me, or die because they had no choice but to step in front of a sword to protect me.

Two people… and another slithering beneath my skin.

But it’s not like it meant anything. It was only self-preservation. I didn’t want Lucifer condemning me for slacking on his daughter’s protection, and I sure as hell didn’t want to feel the physical pain of her death. It was nothing more or less.

And yet, if she was just a charge to watch and train, why couldn’t I control my emotions around her? Why was she always on my fucking mind? Why did my chest ache with worry?

Seven Hells, I didn’t want another useless bond.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her away—to remind myself she was nothing but a job—she snuck through my barriers like a stealthy shadow.

She looked at me with those agonized, breathtaking eyes, shared her story, her scars, and turned me into a male who wanted to comfort her and torture every sick bastard who’d been a part of her trauma.

I strode through the dungeon door, finding Rune waiting where I’d left her.

“Meet me at the Shard Field.”

Immediately, Rune raced down the hall. I luscelered to the roof by my rooms, manifested my wings, and shot into the sky.

I wanted to say Anya’s words, and those controlling Ni, didn’t affect me.

I wanted to say the worry clenching my chest was an overreaction.

But after this morning’s run—seeing Lucille so distracted, feeling her growing distress, and then hearing that from Ni’s mind—it felt orchestrated, not coincidental.

Dropping my shields, I let some of Lucille’s emotions through. The coiling in my chest turned into crushing. But the excruciating pressure couldn’t be physical pain. If it were, she’d be dead.

She was with Lucifer. They were most likely undergoing an extremely difficult training regimen that put strain on her chest. She was safe with him.

I sped up, despising the fact that Lucifer never wanted Rune around. In his position, I understood not wanting to be spied on by your equal, but fuck if it didn’t drive me insane right now.

Gritting my teeth, I slammed my barriers back up, flying as fast as I could. Even if I didn’t want to be bonded with her, I still needed to keep her safe—for Lucifer, and for my sanity.

Staying low, nearly brushing the treetops, I reached the edge of the Shard Field. I dove into the forest and weaved between the trees .

I spotted her through the trunks. The tightening in my chest eased as she stood on steady legs. Then I laid eyes on Lucifer, hunched on all fours.

Seven Hells, what happened?

I landed behind the tree line, dematerializing my wings, unsure if I needed to intervene.

Lucille’s hand flickered purple as Lucifer collapsed.

She gave him a quick, panicked glance, then raised her arm, showing off a glinting icicle in her palm.

Before I could comprehend what she was about to do, she twisted back and threw it with precision.

The icicle sliced through the air and into the Veil Forest. Seconds later, a male fell out of the foggy woods, landing on his knees. A deranged laugh croaked from his lips.

A deadly calm sluiced through my veins as I eyed the horns protruding from his scarred face. I unsheathed my Soul Swords, my lips curling at their satisfying shing.

“Good luck, Princess.” The impaled male laughed. He dug his hands into the ground as his eyes flashed green. Vines erupted through the snow, wrapping around Lucille’s ankles. Then five more stepped out of the forest.

Shadows pooled out of my body, carrying my chuckle and filling the clearing with darkness.

“She doesn’t need luck, demon. She’s got me.”