Page 4 of Wings of Lies (Daughter of the Seven Circles #1)

Chapter

Three

I stumbled my way through the forest like a newborn fawn for what seemed like hours.

My traitorous hands flickered in front of me like a neon sign, turning everything I touched to ash .

I was leaving a path to follow without meaning to.

But no amount of shaking, blowing, or rubbing them on the dirt put them out.

No, they just flamed in front of me—unresponsive and useless. Plus, they drained my energy.

On my fifth fall, I peed myself. My body was failing me. I couldn’t keep this up. But resting intensified the squeezing pressure on my chest and heightened my flames. While running didn’t cure the feeling, it helped to lessen it.

After so many falls, my legs refused to stand. Sunlight waned behind the canopy of trees, turning my hands into even more of a beacon .

I heaved in and out, looking left and right for a cream cowboy hat. But before my quick breaths could suffocate me, my flames sank in time with my eyelids.

Startled awake by a snap, I found myself in a moonlit forest. I tensed, listening intently as someone moved in the distance.

They took a few steps, then paused as if uncertain of their destination, or they were searching for someone.

I scooted closer to the thick brush and only relaxed when the noise faded.

My forehead dropped, and I held back a groan as my entire body throbbed. Luckily, they didn’t catch me while I slept, but I couldn’t hide here.

With a little more energy, I stood, grabbing onto a small branch to help support my measly weight, grateful my stupid flames were put away.

It bent, but it held as much as my wobbly limbs did.

I stepped, wincing at the crunch of leaves resonating in the quiet, and wandered through the shadowed trees with my arms wrapped around my body.

If only I knew where I was and what the heavenly hell had happened to my memories and my—Footsteps crunched in the distance.

I darted behind a tree trunk. The damned crushing pressure sensation took over as they approached. I stifled my quick breaths, cramming against the rough bark, and they passed me.

Oblivious.

The tall guy didn’t know I was there. He walked through the forest without a care in the world .

It couldn’t be a coincidence that he was here, could it? He wasn’t wearing cowboy attire, but who’s to say he wasn’t working with the other guy?

I didn’t know. But I also didn’t have the luxury to let him go. With his casual confidence, he clearly knew his way around these woods, and without water or food, I wouldn’t survive trying to find a way out alone. But I also wasn’t stupid enough to give myself up.

I let him walk ahead before creeping after him.

After passing a few trees, black dots shimmered before my eyes, making me sway. I shot out a foot to steady myself, caught a root, and tumbled to the ground.

My head jerked up, and our gazes met.

“You can see me?” he asked, shocked.

I nodded and sat up, not bothering to brush myself off. Dirt and grime covered me, along with blood, urine, and sweat. A little more dirt didn’t matter.

“Am I not supposed to?” I eyed his jeans and the green sweater that swallowed his skinny frame.

If he were one of my captors, he wouldn’t look so surprised, right?

He tilted his head to the side. “Are—” He snapped his head up, breaking off his sentence.

Soft voices sounded in the distance. The stranger’s face paled. “Get up, skinny girl!” he said, gesturing to me.

I wanted to, but like a disconnected fuse, my legs only twitched. My muscles refused to lift my helpless sacks of bones.

“Get up!” He waved his hands frantically.

I wanted to. I wanted to stand as badly as I wanted to breathe. But I’d given my everything and had nothing left.

“I can’t,” I said, eyes a silent plea to the stranger .

He looked between the noise in the distance and me, then crouched and grabbed my arm.

“What—”

He pulled me across his shoulders like a scarf. “Sorry, kind of. But this isn’t going to be comfortable for you. Just hold on.”

I only nodded as he took off away from the voices.

Either I weighed nothing, or this guy had more muscles than I realized as he sprinted through the trees. Also, he possibly had night vision as he avoided stumbling in the darkness, weaving through the forest, and running faster than I thought possible.

“Where are we going?” My voice bobbed up and down. His shoulder pressed into my lungs with each push off the ground.

“So far straight. Maybe a turn here or there. Then straight again to get far away and keep our pretty little heads.”

I snorted.

“I’m glad you think this is funny. Currently, my kidney thinks otherwise as you repeatedly beat it with your knee,” he said, barely winded. Which was odd, considering he ran at breakneck speed while carrying me.

“I don’t. It’s just the way you said it.”

He nodded. “Glad I could help. Now, mind telling me why a young girl dressed for summer wanders through this forest during fall, all alone, and looking half dead?” The ease at which that sentence came out of his mouth gave me pause.

Was this situation normal in these woods, or was he trying to keep the mood light for my benefit?

The nippy night made more sense now. At least his body heat seeped through his sweater, chasing away most of the goosebumps covering my exposed limbs .

Choosing not to answer his question, I asked my own, using the same tone. “Mind telling me why a young guy like yourself wanders through this forest during fall, all alone, and acting like he’s supposed to be invisible?”

It was his turn to snort as he leaped over a log, not breaking his stride. “Touché.”

My eyes narrowed, panning between the back of his head and the forest behind us. I couldn’t tell if our pursuers were there. But I took the lack of noise as a good sign.

“Are you going to answer me? Or better yet, tell me how you knew we were in danger?” It might’ve been some other danger I didn’t know about, but I suspected it wasn’t, and he somehow sensed it.

His back vibrated with laughter. “Naw. So, interesting young girl who wanders through forests not dressed for the weather, where’s that leave us?”

Why did he keep calling me a young girl? I was definitely not as young as his tone implied. “How about with names? So, you can quit acting like I’m twelve.”

He jumped over a small trickle of water, and the landing jostled me lower. Heaving me back into place, he resumed the sprint with labored breaths.

“But you’re pretty small. I mean, I can feel all your bony limbs. There’s hardly any weight to you. Maybe thirteen, then?”

I glared at the back of his head, regretting that he couldn’t see it.

The bouncing up and down, completely at his mercy, also didn’t help.

But that didn’t stop my snappy reply. “So are you.” My body currently looked twelve years old because starvation and the inability to move for weeks, months, or years on end would do that.

But I wasn’t about to enlighten him on those facts .

By his silence, I suspected my words hit a nerve. He may be tall, but he lacked definition. Whatever muscle he had was just enough to carry my starved body.

“Oliver,” he said, tone sobered.

I jolted, staring with wide eyes at the back of his head.

Oliver? Like the person I needed to find? Was this some trick?

“Lucille,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

The harsh air pushing out of his lungs filled the quiet. Glancing back, I strained my ears for any other noise, hearing nothing but Oliver. “I think we lost them.”

He laughed. “ I lost them. You’re lucky you weigh like twenty pounds, or else the ending of this story would’ve been more tragic.”

Slowing to a jog, then a walk, the trees dispersed, opening to the twinkling lights of a town across a grassy field. My throat closed at the sight.

Oliver eased me to the ground and plopped himself next to me. We both took this moment to rest, staring at the lights ahead. My chest and sternum thanked me for it. Although no longer forced against his body heat, the damp grass pulled goosebumps from the backs of my thighs.

I glared at them. Would they even be able to carry me to the lights, or would Oliver have to help again? I shifted my attention to him.

With the strength of the full moon, a black streak in his bangs stood out against the mop of blonde hair.

They flowed into his light eyelashes that bordered emerald eyes.

The color matched the sweater that swallowed his slim build.

As long as the sweater was, it still barely skimmed the top of his jeans.

It couldn’t quite fit his height, which made sense as he towered over me while I sat beside him .

“You know, staring at strangers is slightly rude. Is there a reason you’re looking at my body?”

My eyes shot to his, cheeks warming. “You’re tall.”

He scanned me up and down. “I’m tall? You practically analyzed every inch of me, and that’s all you say? I’m tall? No compliments, no questions, just a two-word statement?”

I nodded, frowning at his blubbering.

“Have you looked at you? Are you sure you’re not just short?”

I raised my eyebrows. My brain might’ve been working slower than usual and lost most of its memory, but that didn’t make me stupid.

He smirked. “I’m 6’6”. So yeah, I’d say I’m tall. But you’re still short. And I’m still not positive you’re not twelve.”

I sighed and followed his gaze to my bony legs.

Brown and blue covered almost every inch of my limbs.

Somewhere in the grime, blood and urine hid, like they hid in my black shorts.

I didn’t let myself think about how I smelled.

My hair—I reached an arm up to finger the frizzy dark ends.

I plucked a leaf out of the waves, knowing there was most likely more.

A breeze carried the leaf, tumbling across the grass. I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, curling into a tiny ball—a twelve-year-old child indeed.

“Here.” A swath of green fabric landed across my knees.

I turned my head toward Oliver. “I?—”

He cut off my objections. “I think your goosebumps have goosebumps. Not to mention, you look like a starved, abused animal. At least with the sweater, you’ll only scare half the people in town.

” The side of his lips quirked in a crooked smile.

“Plus, I have this”—he plucked at his white, long sleeve—“muscle on my bones and a cheery personality to keep me warm.”

Right. And boatloads of energy.

Conceding, I shoved the sweater over my head, smelling spring rain.

Heavenly heat soothed my spiky skin. Extra fabric bunched at my hips and wrists.

Once I stood, it’d cover me mid-thigh, making me look more childlike.

But if it could conceal the dirt and bruises, plus keep me comfortable, I didn’t care.

“So, does this mean you’re following me to town?” I hoped I didn’t sound too eager.

A mischievous glint lit his face. “I don’t know. Maybe. I guess that depends on whether you can stand.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or stab him in the eye.

He chuckled at my glare and pushed off the ground. “But really, can you? We might’ve got a head start, but I don’t want to test how long it takes them to find us. Which they won’t. If we move.”

In the distance, lights enticed me with the promise of food and water, possibly safety, and, if I was lucky, a warm bed.

“You got this, Lucille,” I whispered under my breath, pushing back into a crouch. My flimsy muscles strained to keep me stable. It took almost all their strength to hold the position. I bit my cheeks in frustration.

A tanned hand fell into my line of sight, showing off an interesting tattoo on the corner of his wrist. “As much as I enjoy watching your determination in action, we don’t have the time.”

Flicking my eyes from his wrist to his face, I knew he was right.

“Cool tattoo,” I muttered, clasping his hand. He lifted me, placing a supportive arm around my waist as my legs steadied .

“That’s better than I expected. I for sure thought I’d have to fireman carry you again. And if your swamp water appearance didn’t draw attention, that sure would’ve. Too bad we can’t do something about the bruises underneath your eyes or…” Oliver licked his thumb, eyeing my cheek.

“Don’t you dare.” All kinds of different substances were on and in me. The last thing I needed was Oliver’s saliva spread across my cheek, even if it did make my face look cleaner.

Sheepish, Oliver dropped his hand.

He supported me as we walked, filling the silence with his chatter. Either Oliver liked to talk or hated awkward silences with strangers.

“Okay. So, once we cross the rest of this field, I figured we could find you some food. You truly look starved. And my conscience would take a beating if I left a starved child out to rot.”

Again, I wasn’t a child. But if that’s what he needed to believe to help and stay with me, then fine. I nodded, too tired to do anything else.

My thoughts strayed to the voice that invaded my mind. If this was the Oliver she had talked about, I was one step closer to finding my mom.