Page 29 of Wings of Lies (Daughter of the Seven Circles #1)

But if I didn’t take this opportunity, my life would be forfeit the moment I stepped on Tenebrous’s soil.

Any hope of finding my mom, even if she were in the Tenebrous Kingdom, would be crushed under the sureness of the queen’s abuse.

But who knew if my mom was there? She could be in the Ethereal Kingdom.

With the flickering image of both kingdoms surrounding her, I had no idea who had her.

The only way to find those answers was through my dream-walking abilities or, if that failed, Magda.

So, if my only options were to brave the deadly forest and possibly die to find her, brave the deadly forest and get abused by my captors once caught, or sit back and wait to die at the queen’s hands, then why not attempt escape while Brock isn’t here?

If the forest killed me, if I was captured and broken again, so be it .

With one last glance at the asshole prince, I walked. My craving to escape begged me to run, but it’d make too much noise. So, I kept my steps slow and quiet, avoiding leaves and potential tripping hazards.

When I reached the halfway point, I glanced back at Aspen, covered partially by the carriage, still sharpening his stupid weapons.

Good. At the three-fourths mark, something dark flashed in the forest. I might’ve stopped if it wasn’t for my need to escape and the lingering itches of my power riding my angry determination.

But I didn’t.

My boots reached the forest line, pausing in surprise.

Sure, it’s only been a couple of minutes, but I figured my princely jailor would’ve investigated by now.

Maybe after the Hellhound attack, he thought I was too frightened to attempt to go into the forest. Little did he know how badly I wanted to find my mom.

The only thing keeping me going was the thought that my mom was alive and in need of help.

Ominous shadows flickered in the forest’s colorful depths. The oranges, whites, and greens were a curling finger beckoning me in while the shadows spoke of trouble. Without a second thought, I entered. Walking a ways in, I pulled a bobby pin from my hair. I crouched to pick up my cuffs and froze.

A Hellhound stepped out of the shadows.

Was it a Hellhound?

Its shadow fur resembled fur more than the ones that attacked us. Gold specs mingled with the black, moving between the wisps, matching the color of its eyes. At least this beast looked less skeletal, closer to a black wolf than a skeleton of death.

Maybe it was half-Hellhound .

I stood, knowing right about now I’d be feeling the stabs of my Glory. But unlike the itches I felt seconds ago, my cuffs suppressed them.

We stared at each other. It tilted its head to the side and sat back.

The glow in its golden eyes was less murderous and more curious.

Not that that meant it wasn’t going to eat me, or more accurately, drain all the blood from my body.

Just because it seemed less threatening didn’t change the fact its gigantic fangs peeked from its black lip, glistening with poorly contained saliva.

I peeked to my left, seeing a road through the unique trees, knowing I couldn’t escape that way or to my right, where the river trickled somewhere in the distance where Brock and the horses were.

That left straight ahead past the half-hellhound—or whatever it was.

Swallowing, I gave one last glance at my cuffs and put my bobby pin back in my hair. I’d have to un-cuff them after I got past the beast. I raised my hands and took a step forward and to the side. It shifted to its legs, raising back up to all fours.

Heavenly hell, why did they have to be the size of small horses?

I stopped, hands shaking. “I just want to pass. Let me pass.”

I’m not scared. I’m not a wimp. I’m not scared.

The mantra was shit against the giant beast shifting forward, sniffing.

The beast tilted its head, sniffing again. I bet it smelled the delicious angel blood running through my veins. I took another couple of slow steps. This time, it didn’t move.

Its gaze pinned me, never once leaving my face as I continued my incremental shuffle. I was just waiting for it to stop playing with me and lunge .

I didn’t have to wait long.

It quickly obliterated the yards between us. I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut. The claw-tearing pain I was expecting turned out to be a long, smelly, wet lick up half of my face.

I didn’t dare move, suspecting this was a twisted game. But when it licked me twice more and whimpered, I relaxed the slightest bit and opened my eyes.

“Does that mean you like me, beastie? Or are you tasting the goods before sucking out my blood?”

The beastie sat back and tilted its head a few more times.

Okay. That had to be a good sign. I hoped.

It rose and butted its wet nose into my hand, whining. It wanted me to pet it. What the actual hell?

I raised my hand against my better judgment to brush the shifting shadows near its ear when it let loose a vicious growl. I scrambled back.

It was going to eat me. I knew it. Why was I always so trusting?

The beastie turned. The vicious growl wasn’t for me but for the blurring figure that shoved me back, making me fall and the beast attack.

I expected obscuring steam and red flames, but the half-hellhound fought like any normal wolf. But it was as fast as Aspen.

They blurred around each other, barely discernible to the naked eye.

At moments, I caught flashes of blue fire, heard animal whines, and a couple of masculine hisses.

The hisses made me flinch. I hated the sound as much as I hated the whine from the beastie.

No part of me understood why. Or why I wanted to intervene to stop the fight in hopes it’d fix the dreadful bottoming out of my stomach .

Reasoning finally slammed back into me when I looked down at my cuffs. Damn it. I needed to get out of here and get them off.

Jerking to my feet, avoiding the blurring bodies of black, I slipped behind a tree and shuffled my way forward.

I screamed at myself to hurry, switching my shuffle to a noisy jog. The fact that I didn’t know where I was going didn’t concern me. Only that I got away from them and the weird pain pushing me to reconsider. There was nothing to reconsider when my mom was out there.

After tripping and bruising my knees over and over, I lost Aspen.

Their noises of pain faded to the ominous rustling of leaves and my heavy breathing.

Switching directions, I attempted to find the noise of the river after avoiding it.

A water source would be necessary until I found someone who wouldn’t kill me or use me when I asked for help.

As the tension left my shoulders, I slammed into a hard, unyielding chest, my bubble of space obliterated.

“Going somewhere?”

Shit.