Page 34 of Wings of Lies (Daughter of the Seven Circles #1)

He relaxed his grip on the hilt of his sword. “Yeah. Fish.”

“I don’t like fish.”

His eyebrows rose.

“They’re slimy and have sharp dorsal spines,” I exclaimed.

I could see the difficulty he had holding in his laughter. But it burst out in a light chuckle, sobering me. The words caught in my throat, tickling the tip of my tongue as I stared at his dimples and all they hid.

His smile flattened. “Get out.”

“No. Go back to your tree, turn around, and then I’ll get out.”

“Lucille, get out of the damned water!” he bellowed, pulling at his sword.

I swam as fast as I could toward the bank, nakedness forgotten. Movement splashed a few feet away, sending another rush of fear through me but doing nothing . Why did my purple powers work but not my Glory?

I tried to shove my fear away and latch onto my anger to bring my purple power to the surface, but my fear doubled. Whatever it was, was coming fast, and I wouldn’t reach Aspen in time. Inches from the bank, a slimy tentacle suctioned to my leg. I latched onto a root protruding from the water.

It pulled. I whimpered as my Hellhound wounds screamed at me to let go.

“Aspen!”

My hands slid against the decaying bark, nails gouging lines in the root. Squirming and kicking, I tried to dislodge it, only succeeding in making it squeeze harder. Then, the squeeze turned into a razor-sharp bite.

I cried out. It yanked. My hands slid.

“Lucille!”

Rage and determination pierced through my fear, feelings that weren’t mine, as water hammered into my mouth and up my nose. I was drowning as the tentacle pulled and pulled, not just dragging me, but pulling something inside me, too .

The cloudy river fizzled behind black specs. The lack of air staked its claim as the noise of the beast and a masculine bellow resonated through the thrashing water.

“Lucy, sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,” she said.

“Nooo. Why?” What was it, four in the morning? The birds weren’t even awake yet.

“Sweetie, come on. You have to train and study.”

I groaned, shoving my face further into my pillow. “Why? Because of the deal you made with father?” That reason was getting old. “Let me sleep.”

She pulled my hair to the side, pressing her calloused hand into my back, rubbing circles. I knew what was coming next. A gentle warmth seeped into my spine, sending an arrow of calm straight to the heart of my grouch monster.

“That’s cheating,” I mumbled.

She laughed. “But it makes getting up easier, doesn’t it?” Then something changed. Her hand on my back tingled, or maybe it wasn’t my back. And the bubble of happiness in my chest turned to burning pressure.

“Come on. Breathe, Lucille.”

Electricity tickled my lips.

“Breathe, damn it!”

Pressure built, and within seconds, I heaved and hacked up gritty liquid.

“That’s it. Get it out,” he said as a wet hand rubbed my back, sending that absurdly pleasant tingle across my entire torso .

Wait…

I shifted around, wide-eyeing Aspen who looked soaked through. His surprisingly dry cloak covered my bottom half, which I yanked up to cover my chest.

The river rippled, bringing me back to the cause of the watery puke lingering on my lips.

I scurried back, crushing grass, until I hit a tree, curling my knees up to my raging chest. Huddled in his cloak, I watched tentacles undulate in the murky blue.

Aspen assessed it, sword out, until the river settled, and the razor-sharp wormy limbs disappeared.

“What—” I heaved.

“Tusoteuthis, a giant ancient squid,” Aspen supplied, sheathing his sword and walking over to me.

“You—sent me into that river—knowing there was a giant—killer squid in it!” My breathing, already uneven, came in and out in angry pants.

Aspen squatted in front of me, composed in the face of my outburst. “Breathe.” He demanded.

“I am,” I yelled, clenching my fists.

The water rippled, and I half expected the creature to fling out its slimy limbs and grab Aspen from behind.

“That squid is an ancient protector of this river. I didn’t expect it to be this far down. It usually stays far North. Now breathe.”

“I’m trying!” I waved around my hands, hyperventilating.

Aspen squeezed the hilt of his sheathed sword. Chaotic thoughts pounded to the beat of my erratic heart. A giant ancient squid of Elora bit me in the leg with tentacle teeth. Wait, my legs .

I lifted Aspen’s cloak, peered down, and touched the back of my thighs while covering myself from view. My fingers came back smeared with blood.

“Shit.”

“Hey, breathe. It’s okay.” Aspen watched me with a solemn expression.

“It’s okay?” I paused to inhale quick breaths. “I drowned.” I inhaled again. “I almost died!” And my wounds were bleeding, which meant I needed to ask for his help once again, proving for the umpteenth time how pitiful and defenseless I was.

“Breathe,” he said, emphasizing his word with a slow breath, like I didn’t know what he meant.

Heavenly hell. “I can’t help it.” Air, I needed air. “This panic stuff—happens!”

Aspen’s face lightened. “Panic attacks?” he asked.

Was he holding back a… laugh? “Are you—mocking me?”

“No, reassessing. I knew you were naive, but I didn’t expect you not to know what a panic attack was.”

“I know—what it is.”

He tilted his head to the side. “And?”

What did Oliver say? “Has to do—with—thoughts.”

Aspen grunted. “More accurately, your fear. So, what are you so scared of, Lucille?”

Him, the man in my head, my mom, this world, the lack of information I had, the queen, my father for reasons I couldn’t remember.

Everything. But like hell I’d tell him that.

None of this was supposed to happen. I was supposed to go to Elora, find my mom, get my answers, and return to the normal life we were living, not become a prisoner and learn about all the enemies I had.

Or learn about how weak I was because my mother refused to train me and my powers.

My vision speckled.

“Breathe, damn it. Stop panicking.”

“That—doesn’t—help!” I heaved.

“What are you so scared of?”

“Why—would—I—tell you ?”

He grabbed my face between his palms, forcing me to lock eyes with him. Pleasant electrical shocks tingled my cheeks.

“I said breathe, not stop breathing.”

“You—should’ve thought of that—before grabbing my face,” I snapped, hating that his touch reminded me of before.

He stared at me, blue eyes illuminated, pressing more firmly. Unusual warmth joined the tingles, soothing my chilled skin. A sense of calm washed over me from him. The pressure in my chest eased, and Aspen’s handsome face stopped blurring.

“There, that wasn’t too difficult, was it?”

His soul-piercing gaze rattled me as much as his gentle hands and my uncanny ability to sense his emotions at random.

I closed my eyes, wanting to hate every single thing about him.

I didn’t want to be attracted to my jailor, nor did I want the tingles against my cheek to affect me so.

But as his hands sent tantalizing fire into my skin, I was, and it did.

“How’d you do that?” I whispered, happy that my breaths were back to normal.

“Do what?”

Give me a sense of peace I haven’t found in a long time.

I couldn’t say that to him, though. This was the Aspen who took girls to his queen to be tortured, who left me with Brock to be abused.

This wasn’t the stranger I met in the woods who wanted me to be safe.

No, for some reason, that Aspen disappeared.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” He brushed his thumb along my cheekbones and tucked strands of my wet hair behind my ear. My slowing heart rate fluttered, ignoring my rational mind.

The nickname didn’t have its usual mocking tone. This time, it was gentle and kind, melting my insides. That wasn’t okay. But in between the melting and my whirling thoughts, the throbbing screamed louder.

“Aspen?”

“Sweetheart?” he whispered back.

Stop. I just wanted him to stop with all his mind games. But I didn’t say that either.

“I need you to get my jacket. There’s a small bag in one of the pockets that I need for my wounds. It’s by the bank.”

“What’s wrong with your wounds?” he demanded, looking down, but his cloak covered me.

“I think my thighs are bleeding more than they should be,” I admitted. My ribs were fine, luckily.

He immediately dropped his hand, the tingles ceasing, and went to grab my jacket. When he came back, he nodded at my legs. “Let me see.”

“But I’m naked,” I said.

He sighed, frustrated. “Fine,” he put the small bag into my hands. “Put that on your wounds. I’ll be back with the needle and thread.”

“What? But the cuffs won’t hinder my quick healing.” Didn’t Hana say this would clot my wounds long enough for my power to kick in ?

He shook his head, clearly annoyed. “The Tusoteuthis drains power. It latched onto you briefly, so you’ll be practically human for a bit.”

“How long is a bit?” I exclaimed.

I needed to dream-walk. Plus, when I got these cuffs off and escaped, I would need my flames.

I couldn’t be helpless anymore. I almost died from a giant squid because I couldn’t control my powers.

This was what Oliver was talking about. I either learned to control them or continue to hurt myself and others.

I loved my mom, but her fears stunted me, and I allowed it.

Sure, I understood she was protecting me.

But look where we were now. Although I still craved her forced calm and the easy way it silenced my doubts, fears, and hatred, I no longer could be the weak girl who took the abuse.

I wouldn’t be, especially when a deadly man I didn’t fully trust invaded my head.

He may be looking for my mom; he may even help me escape, but if not, I’d be as ready as I could be to catch the knife before it stabbed me in the back.

Aspen nodded down to my body. “Put that on your wounds. I’ll be back.” Then he left without telling me how long it’d take to get my powers back. It had better not be long. I needed to start practicing my powers now .