Page 6 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)

Chapter

Five

LUCILLE

w ith the help of Rune’s giant body, I explored my room and discovered a walk-in closet filled with all types of clothing. I fingered beautiful gowns, pant sets, workout clothes, and more. They were so… modern. I hadn’t expected that, even after the general had shown up in that too-tight button-up.

“What should I wear, Rune?” I asked, running my hands through her fascinating fur. She appeared to be half shadow and half soft fluff. The smooth wisps tickled my fingers, and I found solace in her warmth and steady weight.

She turned to me and tilted her head, looking as clueless as I felt.

Eventually, I picked out a soft pair of lavender leggings and a matching long-sleeve shirt. I grinned and undressed in front of my mirror. Then my grin dimmed .

My hand shook as I grazed a finger across every scar marking my body. The butcher’s room jolted back to life—cold metal pressed into my back, warmth seeping from my limbs. My echoing screams covered the dripping of my blood, but not the shrieking metal as he outlined my body with his dagger.

Michael’s gifts were forever imprinted on my skin.

Feeling drained despite our nap—and incredibly hungry—I nearly sank to the floor.

Using the wall for support, I put on the purple set, enjoying the soft insides even when they brushed over my tender scars.

I eyed myself in the mirror and considered hiding and never coming out.

My outfit might cover up the wounds, but it did little to conceal my malnourished body.

Closing my eyes and breathing back tears, I pulled on an oversized hoodie, hoping it would hide my trauma and pain.

“Foolproof plan,” I whispered to my reflection.

Rune pressed into my side, offering support, and I gave her a small smile. Placing my hand on her spine, I steadied myself as we walked into another room.

A sitting area, I guessed, from the couches and chairs circling a table filled with mouthwatering snacks. I tripped over my feet, scurrying to them, while Rune tried to keep me from falling and eating carpet. She managed well enough, but I still ended up on the floor.

After shoving a few pieces of meat and cheese into my mouth, I snagged a chocolate truffle.

“Mmm, Rune,” I moaned. “You have to try this.”

That was purely the chocolate and exhaustion talking—she probably couldn’t have chocolate, nor did she look inclined to try. She did glance at the jerky a time or two, and who was I to deny such a good beastie the pleasure?

I flung a piece at her. She caught it at the same time her eyes illuminated.

The door to the sitting area jerked open.

“Don’t feed my Soulhound,” General Ronen snapped as he barged in without knocking.

“Don’t barge into places you’re unwanted,” I mumbled, ignoring him in favor of more chocolate. He didn’t get the pleasure of ruining my heavenly sugary escape yet.

Plopping two more in my mouth, I closed my eyes, pretending I was back in the forest with Aspen the day we threw pieces of this sugary goodness at each other in hopes of catching them. I smiled at the memory, happy to have it back.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?”

He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there.

“And is that what you’re wearing to meet your father?”

The dark chocolate with a caramel center was my new favorite.

“You can’t wear that.”

“It was in my closet. Not sure why I can’t.”

Actually, the one that tasted like roasted marshmallows with a sprinkle of salt was my favorite.

“Hellion! Open your damn eyes and stop ignoring me!”

I slowly opened my eyes, then swallowed all the chocolate in my mouth, nearly choking.

His ebony hair glistened with a wet sheen, like he’d just showered, and he wore a white button-up instead of black. He might as well have been shirtless—the fabric clung to his body, practically see-through. Did he know how to use a towel?

I couldn’t take my eyes off the dark artwork peeking through his shirt. Did they go lower, into his?—

Flushing, I turned away. That was not a thought I wanted to complete. I wiped at the chocolate sticking to the corner of my lips.

“What did you call me?”

“Hellion. Because that’s what you are. A problem, an annoyance, an irritating menace. Someone who doesn’t know how to dress herself appropriately before meeting the King of Hell.” His muscles coiled beneath his shirt, flickers of shadows wrapping around his crossed arms.

“Should I be in a gown with full skirts and some gloves? Do I need to go find my corset and bonnet, General?”

His expression narrowed. “Of course not. The king provided you with modern-day clothes. You’re not a soul from the 1700s, so why would you suggest something so foolish?”

I licked my lips and stood. Rune immediately came to my side, letting me rest against her, which I both hated and appreciated. Hated, because the general noticed and glared—as if I were unworthy of touching his Soulhound. But newsflash: he left her with me.

“Didn’t know the King of Hell employed such an asshole as a general,” I stated. The shadows that eclipsed his eyes gave me great pleasure, right before succumbing to dread.

What was I doing?

Aspen needed him .

But why did he have to act like this? What did I ever do to him?

“Fine. Wear that . ”

The way he said it made it sound like I wore rags. But I only wore these clothes to cover my torture—not that the high and mighty general would ever understand. I didn’t need his damned unsolicited opinion.

Before tears of frustration could destroy the carefully crafted glare I had going, he raised a hand and positioned his fingers like he was about to snap at me. Like I was a disobedient Soulhound needing to listen to her master.

“I’m not a dog . So much as move those fingers together, and I will risk passing out on this carpet in favor of smothering you in ice, General .”

He dropped his hand, and the shadows left his eyes. “Fine. But your father is waiting.”

“And my mother?”

General Ronen stilled. “Your father can tell you about your mother.”

I moved closer to him with Rune’s help. “What does that mean?”

He took in my leaning posture and scowled at the space where my body touched his Soulhound.

“I’m not going to damage Rune. Now what the hell do you mean?”

Needles prickled my hands, signaling my wayward Glory. Now was not the time for this, or the sudden squeezing pressure in my lungs that I had yet to deal with.

General Ronen stared at me, silent.

“Tell me!”

Why wasn’t he answering? Did Oliver leave something out? Was she dead ?

Oh shit, I couldn’t breathe—I couldn’t?—

I let go of Rune, afraid I’d burst into flames and burn her, and sank to the floor, clutching at my chest. General Ronen followed me, watching with a look that was part confusion, part reluctant concern.

I heaved on the floor, hunched over my knees. He reached out to touch me, his hands swallowed in shadows once again. I flinched. He dropped his hands, looking down at them like he’d just realized the shadows were there.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s having a panic attack,” Oliver said from behind him.

I didn’t even hear the door open.

Oliver crouched. “Lucy, calm your mind. It’s okay. I bet your mom’s just fine. Right, General?”

When the general didn’t answer, the needles pushed at my Glory, flaring onto my hands. His shadows whipped out. Before I could pull back, they brushed my skin and—and—soothed away my flames. They quieted my fear and settled my breath.

My brows drew together. “What did you do?” I asked, staring at my lightless hands.

The general stood, silent and brooding. Fine. I didn’t need to know what he did, but I did need to know about my mom.

“Is she okay?” I demanded.

He left the room, calling back, “Follow me and find out.”

My Infernus called to me, enjoying the quick switch of emotions. I wanted to shove ice so far down his throat it pushed the stick out of his arrogant, controlling ass. But that’d get me nowhere, and I had no energy to use.

“I may murder him, Oliver. ”

He helped me off the floor. “My money’s on you. So wait until I gather a big enough crowd to place my bet. I’ll be rich.”

“Think he’s still waiting for us?”

Oliver nodded to Rune, whose eyes were glowing. “I’m sure he hasn’t gone far.”

“Right.” It’d probably benefit us to figure out what the glowing eyes entail. But that was a later problem.

Despite Rune’s whining, I gripped Oliver’s arm to steady myself as we walked down a hall with red carpet and floor-length windows. I almost stopped when we hit the hallway. A foot of ice coated the outer black walls of the castle, bringing to mind part of Miriam’s prophecy:

There once was a palace of crystallized ice awaiting the daughter to sacrifice. Unbalanced and sorrowful. Hopeless with no tomorrow.

Maybe it wasn’t wise to meet the king—but I had to find my mom. And if he was going to sacrifice me, wouldn’t he have done it while I was unconscious?

“How we’re not freezing our asses off beats me,” Oliver exclaimed.

“Magic?” I mumbled, shaking off my creeping apprehension.

“Probably.”

We continued past the windows and followed Rune and the general to a staircase.

Shit.

“Need me to carry your scrawny butt down?” Oliver asked.

The general stopped at the bottom of the first set of stairs.

Rune stayed beside me, whimpering and nudging me to use her before I descended.

Maybe in a different circumstance, I would’ve taken Oliver up on his offer.

But with the general looking at me like I was worthless and couldn’t do it, I didn’t want to lean on Oliver or Rune.

Challenging the general to say a word, I stepped down. Again. My heart picked up speed. On the third step, I was about ready to smile in his condescending face when black dots stole my vision and weakened my legs.

I fell.

Teeth nipped into my back, catching my hoodie at the same time a chest barreled into me, gripping my shoulders.