Page 69 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)
I don’t think hate fully encapsulated the emotion I felt toward her.
But not because of her words. I couldn’t care less about what she thought of me.
The only person I imagined she had anything good to say about was herself.
No, I hated her for her horrible personality and the position she was in.
She shouldn’t be a leader of a Hell Squadron.
“That’s funny.”
Moira’s eyes narrowed.
“You think I give a damn about your opinion?” I pressed into her knife.
Let her think she had me. Let them all believe I was helpless and at her mercy. When it came down to it, I wasn’t about to let this bitch kill me when I could burn away Cyrus’s vines and run her through with an icicle.
A part of me wanted to win with skill alone. A larger part didn’t want Michael or the council to find me. Nor did I want to put anyone in danger. But I refused to die.
Only, when I called to my Glory and my eager Infernus, it wasn’t the crackling ice of the Glaciation Circle that answered—or any melody I was familiar with. It was a new one.
The rushing of air whispered in my ears.
It whooshed in, then quieted as it whooshed out, like breathing.
But what stunned me more was the purple cloud in front of Moira’s mouth, darkening and lightening with each exhale and inhale of her breath.
A tiny line of purple trickled toward my face, and I pressed back, only to be stopped by Moira’s grip.
She laughed, thinking I was just trying to struggle against her.
She must not be able to see what I did. When the trickle of purple air touched my lips, I had the sudden urge to breathe deeply.
I gave in to it, and Moira gasped. She released my hair, dropped the knife, and clutched her throat, choking.
I tapped into the power of the Suffocation Circle. And I didn’t have to reveal my powers.
Although I was still tied up. But maybe…
Before I could second-guess myself, I forced my body to still and focused on Ichi’s teachings.
It took longer than I liked and a couple tries, but eventually I pulled at the live wire in my core, imagined gathering a bright ball of energy, and directed it at my hands and feet.
Then I luscelered my limbs out of Cyrus’s restraints.
I whipped out two knives and stabbed Moira in the back of the knees. She couldn’t even scream as she fell to the ground. And just because every step I took jostled the agonizing wound in my gut, I repaid the favor.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” I rasped.
Before she could pull another dirty trick, I pressed my knife to her neck and waited for the announcer. Moira wasn’t getting up. She wasn’t tapping into her powers—not while I was pulling the air from her lungs.
I won.
Alexei, MJ, Ichi, and Oliver all smiled at me, each wearing a different shade of pride. But Ronen—his shadows softened just enough to reveal stunned wonder in his eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that, like they were genuinely moved by what I could do.
He may have doubted me before. Hell, I had doubted myself.
But now, after defeating an elite squad leader without using all my power, I did it. I was a warrior. More importantly, I had a real shot at rescuing Aspen, stealing Ronen’s feather, and beating Lilith at her own game.
And even though I would rank after this, I knew Ronen wasn’t about to change his mind and help us.
But maybe he’d give me Tsal-mawet instead.
“Lucille has w?—”
An arrow shot through the announcer’s neck.
Then there was movement in the shrieking, confused crowd.
A male with a gruesome soul wound on his freckled forehead parted the warriors with his bow and a notched arrow. He stepped into the challenge circle with Cyrus and Theon behind him.
“Ready for round two, Hell-whore?” Cyrus taunted.
Vines erupted from the ground and wrapped around me, holding me in place once again.
The freckled male aimed and released his arrow.
My powers raged beneath my skin, almost bridging the surface—when a wall of shadows blocked the arrow, ripped apart the vines, and shot into my nose, silencing my pain.
Ronen stepped into the circle. “This is your warning, Lou.”
Lou hesitated, lowering his bow an inch.
“The Hell-whore doesn’t deserve to be our leader!” Cyrus shouted, and Theon nodded.
Oh, Heavenly Shit.
That never registered. I wasn’t doing this to be their leader. Oh fuck.
“Lucille won. This challenge is over.”
“No.”
I turned just in time to see Moira drop her hand. I must’ve lost my grip on my Infernus. The knife hit a solid wall of shadows, and then darkness bled through the arena, rendering everyone quiet.
“Ronen.” I raised my hand, searching for his body.
Shadows tenderly brushed my face in answer. Usually, they soothed me, but I could practically feel their rage this time. It was vicious and thick, chilling me to the bone.
Metal slid against sand before I heard a wet slice, then a thump. I swallowed, wishing I could see. A moment later, I heard another. Then another. And another. The last one sounded closer and ended in a gurgled choke.
Slowly, Ronen’s shadows pooled back into his hands, revealing five decapitated bodies and a torrent of blood seeping across the ground. They were all dead. Moira, Theon, Lou, Cyrus—every single one of them lay in a pool of their blood.
“Holy fuck,” Oliver whispered next to me.
“He did warn them,” I said weakly as Oliver helped me to my feet.
Moira had a gaping space between her throat and neck. A couple tendons still connected the very back of her head to her body, unlike the rest, whose heads were several feet away. Ronen didn’t make it a clean cut. She had to be the one who choked on her blood.
Ronen gazed around with pitch-black eyes.
He twisted Theon’s axe in his hand like he was ready to take on more.
He waited, leveling every member of his military with an expression that said: try and see what happens.
Not a single person moved or even twitched—except for MJ, who smiled as if she wasn’t surprised in the least by Ronen’s behavior.
“I do not allow insubordination.” Ronen chucked the axe to the ground. “Understood?”
No one said a word.
“Understood!” he bellowed.
The warriors of Hell frantically nodded, shouting, “Yes, Sir!”
He turned toward the crowd in the stands. “I hope you all enjoyed the last of the challenges. Please go and enjoy the ball that will start in an hour and reward your warriors with your generosity and support.”
Ball? Heavenly Hell. I’d spent the last several days so focused on trying not to die here today that I’d forgotten about that. Whose bright idea was it to have a formal ball after challenges, anyway?
The stunned crowd stood and filed out, but Ronen had already turned his back on them and everyone else. Now, his dark attention was on me.
He strode over to me. He reached out and gently brushed away some of my hair. “Moira punctured your spleen. You’ll be okay, but you need to get to the healers’ wing.”
I nodded, placing my gloved hand over his. “Thank you.”
The black in his eyes lightened the slightest bit. “For what, Hellion? You won. I was just doing my job.”
“Hell yeah, you did,” Oliver chimed in. He adjusted me in his arms, taking more of my weight.
Ronen’s lips twitched like they were on the brink of a smile. “Both of you ranked, you know.”
I lifted my head to the board and saw our names in first and second place.
“Didn’t I tell you, General ?” I reminded him .
Ronen did smile then, and it was filled with unadulterated pride.
I studied every inch of his smile, searing the image into my mind.
It transformed the hardened, threatening lines of his face, softening his fierce aura.
It brought warmth and life to his eyes like I’d never seen before.
I wanted to reach out and graze a finger against his tilted lips.
Butterflies swirled in my stomach when the rest of his shadows gave way to the gold I loved so much.
“I know what I want as my favor.”
His smile dropped, and I couldn’t help but be disappointed. He probably thought I was going to ask for his help again.
“I want the dagger you found on me when you first rescued me.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Well, for one, you stole it from me. And two, I just do. Is it on you?”
He seemed to want to ask more, but refrained. “No. I’ll see what I can do.”
Good enough—for now .
“Before you go, tonight, I’d like to talk to you after the ball, if that’s alright?”
“About?” My heart rate picked up at the seriousness of his expression. What could he possibly want to talk about? The night we argued? Aspen? Or something to do with today?
“Later. Go to Sam,” he said, giving me one last stare before leaving.
“If we’re going through with this, then it sounds like tonight would be the best time,” Oliver murmured .
“I agree.” I followed Ronen with my eyes, memorizing his walk, his stance, the way his shadows wove around his uniform. I held the image in my mind, next to his smile that I craved to see again.
Except… there was a chance I wouldn’t.