Page 8 of Wings of Darkness (Daughter of the Seven Circles #2)

Chapter

Si x

LUCILLE

A fter suffering through a few more minutes with the king, he finally let me see my mom.

She lay beneath the covers, her small frame occupying little space on the giant bed.

The black silk comforter contrasted horribly with her pale skin, like it was sucking the life out of her.

In fact, the entire room felt dark and lifeless.

I reached out a shaky hand, smoothing back her black hair from her shoulder. Someone had placed her in a strappy nightgown, nothing she would’ve ever picked for herself. She needed her T-shirt and pants with the little chicks on them. She needed her obnoxious rooster eye mask. She needed?—

A sob caught in my throat. I crawled across the mattress and curled up next to her. Tears slid down my cheeks as I wrapped my arm around her stomach and rested my head against her chest.

She needed to wake up .

I listened to her heart, guilt hitting me with every slow beat.

Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t it have been me, like I planned?

“I’m so sorry, Mom.” My voice cracked. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

After kissing her forehead and wiping my face, I let Oliver help me back to my room. Rune and the general followed behind. There were no words of comfort. Even Oliver had no happy remarks, only a warm arm wrapped around my shoulder.

Right before my room, I paused at a large window—a cluster of buildings spread out in the distance. Unlike the small, thatch-roofed houses in Elora, these buildings were taller, wider, and had white caps on their slanted roofs.

“It’s pretty frigid down there, and the people are something else to look at, but at least I haven’t come across any demons like I expected I would,” Oliver mumbled as I stared with a flat expression.

“What do you mean?”

Wasn’t Hell supposed to have all the demons?

Oliver shrugged. “I mean, I haven’t seen any scaly, bulbous, disgusting bastards anywhere. Some half-breed demons, but that’s it. Not that the people look all that normal, but…” He shot me a look, then waved it off. “You’ll understand once you see for yourself.”

“Demons don’t have souls. They aren’t Hell’s creations. You won’t see them here. You’ll only see their half-breeds,” the general informed us.

“Okay.” I didn’t have the energy to say anything else.

I pulled Oliver to continue toward my door. I needed time to digest everything—and eventually discuss an escape plan .

Rune and the general hovered behind us, but neither would be allowed in. Not that the general ever was. Rune’s tail curled happily at my attention, making me regret keeping her out. The general, on the other hand, seemed deep in thought.

“Sorry, Rune, but you and your angel aren’t coming in this time.”

Clarity sharpened the general’s gaze. “Yes, we?—”

“General, your clothing is in tatters, and you have blood all over your face and chest.”

He glanced at his shredded shirt, then back at me, lips pressing into a hard line.

“Rune’s staying.”

“No, she isn’t.” I could only imagine he’d want to leave his Soul-hound with us to gather information. “She can come back later, but for now, I’d like time alone with my friend, please.”

The general held my gaze, something tightening in his face before he turned away. “Okay,” he said softly.

I stood there, stunned. He actually agreed. But why? Did my bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks move him? I highly doubted that. He hated me—so then what?

I didn’t get a chance to ask. Oliver tugged me through the door, locked it, and then helped me to the settee.

“You’re unusually quiet,” I said.

He flopped next to me, picking up slices of dried meat leftover from earlier, and handed me a couple.

“Your father is scary. Your mom is eating away at your energy. The general hates you. And now we’ve been signed up to train with both scary and pissy for the foreseeable future. It’s a lot to take in. ”

I slumped deeper into the couch, munching on a piece of meat that tasted like salty mush. “That’s not all.”

Oliver snorted. “Why am I not surprised? What else is on Oli and Lucy’s shitstorm of a plate?”

“Lilith carved more Hell Runes on Aspen’s wrists,” I whispered, hating even voicing it aloud. The urge to help him and my mom pressed down on my chest, almost crushing me. Frustration pricked my eyes at the fact that we couldn’t. We were stuck, the general was an ass, and I was weak.

Oliver shoved another piece of meat into my hands and laid an arm over my shoulder. “We live fucked-up lives.”

I smiled a somewhat watery, defeated smile. “We do.”

“You want to save him, don’t you?”

My silence was answer enough. He already knew I did.

“I still don’t think he’s good for you, Lucy.”

“I don’t care.”

“It’ll be dangerous.”

“I know, Oli. So will finding your sister and killing Michael.”

He stilled. “Did you just give me a nickname?”

“You’ve been by my side all this time and nearly got shredded by ice to protect me. You never let me give up on my mom, nor did you leave me to save your sister when you could’ve. Oli, you’re the best brother I’ve never had.”

He smiled and pulled me into his skinny frame for a big hug. “And you’re the sister I’ve always wanted.”

I let myself smile into his chest, taking one moment in my brutal life to appreciate our friendship. Then Oliver, being Oliver, found my head and gave me a good-natured noogie to finish off our sweet moment, and I laugh-cried as he did.

He wiped my cheeks. “I want to say it’ll all be okay, but I don’t know if it will be. But I’ll be here with you one way or the other, okay?”

I nodded, having no words.

“So what do we do first?”

We were in way over our heads. Munching on the meat and cheese plate, we mulled over our predicaments.

Oliver was right. Everything we needed to do would be dangerous.

Which meant the King of Hell was also right.

I couldn’t go anywhere in this state. My mother continued to drain my energy to survive.

My legs were twigs, and I needed to learn more about my powers.

I didn’t want to stay here another second, but I also didn’t want to go out there and die the instant we faced anything.

“We need to train,” I said.

“Uh—”

I stopped his protest with a smack on his leg. “Your running stamina sucks, Oli. And who knows about your fighting skills?”

“Like hell. The only reason my stamina sucks is because I’m carting your ass around. And I’m a badass fighter.”

“You’re a twig.”

“So are you!”

“My point exactly.” I sighed. “Plus, we don’t know how to escape. Until we find a way, we can train. But we’re not staying here a year.”

Oliver groaned again .

“If I have to suffer through General Ronen’s pissy personality, then so do you.”

“At least he’s nice to look at.” Oliver grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes.

After discussing plans and options, a maid with a bandage on her neck brought more food up. We devoured the juicy chicken, let Rune back into the room, then cuddled in my huge bed and slept.

A warm tongue lapped against my face, and a sharp poke woke me from my sound sleep.

“What?” I moaned, swatting at Oliver’s hand.

“Rune’s eyes are lit up, and someone knocked on the door.”

I lifted my head. “It’s not even light out yet,” I complained, shoving my face back into my pillow.

“Don’t think he cares.”

No, he didn’t. Especially since he stormed into my room, lacking the decency to wait for an answer. I swore I locked both doors too.

Standing at the foot of my bed, he scowled, his jaw tight as he gazed between us. Was he upset that Rune slept here? That didn’t make sense. He knew where she was and could call her back at any time. Unless he was upset Oliver slept here? But that made even less sense.

“I didn’t say you could come in.”

Not like that mattered. He came and went as he pleased, with or without my approval—even if it was my damned bedroom.

What if I slept naked? What would he do then?

I almost wanted to test it. Just to witness his embarrassment.

“Get up and get dressed. Your father’s waiting for you two.” He turned his scowl on Oliver. “Go to your room and change.”

I latched onto Oliver’s hand before he could move, yanking him down to whisper in his ear. “Don’t leave me.”

Oliver quirked a brow. “I don’t think he was asking.”

He pried my fingers off his arm and climbed out of bed, grabbing his pants as he left.

Oliver liked to sleep in boxers, just like I preferred shorts and a camisole. I didn’t care what he wore to sleep; he’d never make a move on me. The whole “lacking a dick” kind of put a stop to that. Even if he wasn’t gay, he was my best friend—and not my type.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that a flicker of black flashed in the general’s eyes, as if Oliver’s attire had somehow pissed him off.

I shifted back in bed, wishing Oliver would hurry up and return. I didn’t want to deal with the awkward tension building between me and the general.

He watched me, his expression guarded and cold, lips curling in a way that only frustrated me more.

I didn’t deserve his condescending judgment. He didn’t know me—we’d barely spoken. Sure, I may have insulted him several times, but the moment he barged into my room, he already had that glower on his face. Then he proceeded to force my friend out of my bed.

I sat up straighter and lifted my chin.

If he wanted a stare-off, then he’d get one.

Neither of us blinked. I fixed on those unique golden eyes like I could burrow into his brain and make him see me—really see me—for who I was, not what he assumed.

But I didn’t have the ability to manipulate minds, and his expression remained unchanged.

If anything, his eyes narrowed, as if he were even more displeased.

Worse, that same pulling sensation stirred, urging me to lose myself in him—again.