Page 16 of Wings of Lies (Daughter of the Seven Circles #1)

Chapter

Thirteen

I t was yet another purple-ringed dream but without the vertigo. This time, I invaded the body of a recent version of myself. I couldn’t tell how old I was, only that I stood taller, and my chest pushed at my shirt.

I sprinted outside into the last light of day and headed toward the woods behind our house. Dark clouds drenched me with their rain and pelted me in the face as I pushed myself into lusceler.

“Bring it on!” I yelled to the sky, slamming my soaked slippers into every puddle. Fist clenched, the pressure swelled with each splash. I pushed myself faster, the canopy of green guarding me from the rain.

It was coming.

It started as a touch, nudging me. Then, based on the torrent of emotions, it rose until the pressure intensified and hit my barrier. And when it hit my barrier, stabbing into me beneath my skin, I only had seconds left.

Millions of little needles tore at my body .

I sank to my knees.

My power tried to obliterate my protective layer.

Or at least that’s what it felt like. When I couldn’t hold in my cries any longer, I flung my head back.

Wet strands of black hair slapped against my shirt, and I screamed as an explosion of white flame burst free, disintegrating my clothes into a pile of ash.

At release, my screams stopped, hissing rain filling the silence. I wanted to cry, but my body wouldn’t allow it in this state. This was her fault because of her stupid confession. But how could she have kept me so in the dark—lied to me for so long?

The thought turned to acid in my stomach. For nine years, my mom lied to me, to my father, about—I stopped myself. That thought still hadn’t registered. Or it did, but it was too complicated to wrap my brain around.

She hid so much from me. No wonder she’d always been so hellbent on calming me and keeping me off everyone’s radar.

But she couldn’t hide it all. The thought was bitter and filled with a sick kind of resentment. It only happened twice. My mom never gave me an explanation either time. The incidents were ignored and avoided in conversation, brushed away with innocent excuses or her power.

I thought back to the plume of smoke from our burning house and the shock of seeing my room explode with white and purple flame.

And even further back, to when I touched him.

My eyes flickered to the angelic rune on my wrist, now white and useless.

A crutch and a perfect tool to hide what my mom didn’t want anyone to know.

I wondered when my father figured it out.

If I ever had the misfortune of seeing him again, I could ask .

The more I replayed her words, the more I understood and felt the unfairness of it all. I wanted her to take it all back. I didn’t want any of it to be true.

I laughed. It was humorless and dark, like the coils that curled in my stomach. My nostrils flared, and my laugh turned into a feral scream stemming from my pent-up emotions. Bile invaded the back of my throat as a crashing tune vibrated in my ears, pulling forth an incessant itch.

Pounding the ground, welcoming the pain, I tortured my vocal cords again. My breath turned to fog before my eyes. The white flame flickering along my body changed to a deep purple, and sleet bounced off my face, settling on the ground.

Ice?

The puddle beneath my hands froze around my legs. I stilled, eyes wide, watching the ice spread. It blanketed the forest floor in a frost, freezing any water droplets on the vegetation around me.

Our burned house didn’t look like this. The only time the purple flame ever created ice was the first time it ever surfaced on my skin. I never thought that power had come from me. I had always thought it came from the stranger. But no vengeful man whispered in my mind this time.

The purple flame undulated, surrounding a black core, dancing and curling together. I grazed my finger against the shiny, hard puddle. From the brush of my flame, a second layer of ice formed. I touched my arm, but the flames were neither cold nor hot, just a soft hum of energy against my finger.

This was why he carved permanent scars on my back, why my mom and I were in such danger, and why she always did everything she could to hide us and drug me with her touches. It was all because of this purple flame that didn’t burn but froze.

The thought snuffed out my power, leaving me numb and empty.

I was left naked and exposed to Earth’s stormy clouds. Ice turned back to rain and struck me and the melting puddle. Exhausted, I curled into myself, laying in soppy dirt and leaves. Grit rubbed into my arms, and sticks jabbed my back.

Who cared?

I wasn’t sure how long I lay there. My eyes refused to register the world around me or the pain that crept into my naked limbs. At one point, a flash of light sparked in the distance, then vanished. It didn’t matter. My empty thoughts were so much better than the turmoil from my mother’s words.

A shadow shifted in my peripherals. I ignored that, too.

Animals roamed these woods constantly. It was probably the large black wolf I saw sometimes.

It wasn’t normal, neither the size of the beast, its odd fur, nor how it always returned to the same spot.

But it kept its distance, so I was never threatened by the wolf.

I never told my mother about the times I saw it.

I figured she’d cart us away again if I did.

So, I kept one secret from her, nothing compared to what she kept from me.

The forest, a gloomy, dismal place, shifted.

Dark boots stopped two feet in front of my face.

Unfazed, I stared at them and ignored the fact no one came through these woods.

This was my mother’s worst nightmare, and yet I couldn’t care less.

A repeated tinking sounded as rain hit something metallic.

Even the tangy scent of apples and pine wasn’t enough to lift my head.

The shadow spoke. “Who are you? ”

I didn’t care to answer. Not after today. Not ever.

“Where’re your clothes?”

That was an easy question. “Burned.”

“How?”

That was too much to explain, too much thinking.

“Are you cold?”

“Maybe,” I said.

But I was. My fingers and feet were numb, trying to keep my organs warm while I lay there, uncaring about the potential of hypothermia.

It was funny I wasn’t immune to the elements unless my powers covered me.

The air shifted. Something dark and heavy blanketed me, protecting me from the rain.

“Your lips are blue.”

I brought my hand up to my lips, curious. It was my first movement in a while. I smiled after the fact. My hands were frozen. They couldn’t feel my lips.

A pulse resonated, and a flash of light sprung from the darkness.

The light got brighter as it came closer, and warmth brushed along my skin as a sizzling sound whispered in my ear.

I closed my eyes as pain prickled my hands and feet.

My teeth clenched to keep from groaning, surprised by the strange warmth.

“Stop,” I said, voice tight with unshed tears.

“No. You’ll freeze.” They snapped, tucking the fabric tighter around me.

Were they angry?

I blinked my heavy lids, wanting to see who was before me. But the endless night and bright light shrouded them .

“What are you?”

My lips twitched. What a funny question. “I’m a girl, if you couldn’t tell.” I was naked—or had been before they covered me. Even if my arms laid across my breasts, they pushed between my arms, too big to hide.

I couldn’t make sense of this. Why was this stranger so curious about me?

They sighed, frustrated. “Can you tell me anything about yourself?”

I could tell them lots of things. Could tell him , I realized. Things that would get my mother and me killed. Things that she protected me from so that’d never happen. Secrets she kept from everyone—absolutely everyone. For good reason, too.

“My name’s Lucille. I hate my father. My mother lied to me.

And my life is a ticking time bomb. Here.

” I ripped off the metal chain still hanging around my neck and gave the stranger my amulet.

It no longer held my mother’s soothing power.

I didn’t want it anymore. Who cared if my mother would throw a giant fit once she found out?

It was just a reminder of her secrets and a reasonable payment for the warmth and cover this stranger gave.

She said she had it made by some witch. The crystal itself was imbued with a type of magic that allowed it to absorb power to be used later. It could fetch a hefty price, even if the stranger never figured out its magical aspects.

He took it from my hands, continuing to stay silent. Was he staring at it? Did he pocket it?

“You need to stay,” he said, pausing. “Lucille.”

I continued to squint at the light, trying to see his face .

“Did you hear me? You need to stay with your mother.” His voice hardened.

“O-kay,” I said, confused.

He grabbed my arm. It was hot through the material. “I mean it. Go back home and stay put.”

“Okay,” I said, wanting my sluggish mind to make sense of this. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. I did need to go home. My mom was probably out of her mind by now. But stay put? We’d most likely run again.

The thought had me itching to touch my newfound inky strands of anger coiling in my core.

I hated running and hiding and all the isolation.

I hated that the one person I trusted most could lie to me and keep my origins secret.

I hated that if the amulet still held power, I would’ve snatched it back.

“Good,” he said, satisfied.

The light and heat blipped out of existence. My eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the dark. I lifted my head. There were no footsteps, no movements through the woods, almost like he was never there to begin with—just gone.

Without the heat of the light, my limbs became cold again.

Reluctantly, I stood on shaky legs, pulling the heavy cloth around my body.

I would’ve thought I made it all up if it wasn’t for the cloak.

I searched the forest, hoping to find the stranger, and then figured it was best to get back to the house before my mom came looking.

My mom stood on the threshold of our small house, holding a folded blanket.

The glow of our front porch light shined on her silky black hair.

She tapped her foot, and I figured I better walk faster.

I wished I could just walk around her to the door and not deal with this.

But even though my mom was a small woman, she had been training and handling me for nineteen years.

If she didn’t want me to pass, I wouldn’t.

Bitterness hit the back of my tongue again. I waited, knowing what was coming.

“You can’t run off like that, Lucy.”

“What else am I supposed to do, Mom? Burn down another house?” I snapped, satisfied by her flinch.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes.

“Or maybe I should withhold a key detail of your life and cover it up as some kind of deranged story and see how it messes you up?” The tickling itch responded to my anger and what sounded like cracking ice.

It was the same sound I heard before, but the itch was a new sensation.

I knew my mom felt it, too, as she lifted her hand.

“Wait,” I said, taking a step away from her. Her hand hovered in the air as I stared at it, questioning. Did I want my mother to shove calming emotions down my throat?

I stared at her hand, already knowing the choice I’d make. The choice she was begging me to make within the crinkle of worry on her forehead.

“Okay, but I meant what I said earlier, Mom. I want you to teach me how to control my emotions and powers,” I whispered. Then, I walked into her arms and rested my head on her shoulder. A wash of calm seeped into my back from her tender touch.

My mom was the best thing to protect me—protect us from myself and others. And now it made sense why.

“Where’d the cloak come from?” she asked. Her heartbeat jumped a little at the question like she feared the answer.

“I found it on my way back,” I lied. She was frantic enough. I didn’t want her to know about the stranger. Not yet. Although, no one had ventured through these parts, so I might not be able to get out of this argument.

Surprisingly, my mom wrapped the blanket around my body and let it go. Her hands rubbed my shoulders, warming me with her heat and layers. “Well, let’s start you a warm bath, and I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

I pulled back, “We aren’t leaving?”

“I figured you’d want to relax before we do.

” At my wide eyes, my mother smiled. “We can take the night and leave in the morning. If we’re lucky, we can return if there’s no activity.

” The fact that my mother even considered coming back meant she loved this place.

We’d been here for four years with no issues.

We had both grown attached, so I never mentioned the wolf that showed up six months ago.

“And maybe we can practice your powers and emotions,” she conceded.

I smiled and let her lead me into our quaint little home, glancing back, hoping to see the stranger. Instead, I saw what I did daily—the vast forest that surrounded our house. Alone, just the two of us for miles.

And it used to be okay. She was my best friend and my rock. She was always there for me, keeping me calm and safe. The scars on her back proved how much I meant to her. But now, there was a lot I needed to figure out.