Of course, he’d never expected me toFall. So I wasn’t entirely prepared for a prison full of hungry Noir. But I’d figure this out. There was no other choice.
I will fix my wings, I vowed.Just as soon as I figure out what I did to earn my black feathers.
“That one’s about to get the wire,” Raven announced, surprising me from the tense silence as she jerked out a finger.
My gaze went to the indicated direction within the labyrinth. A strange silvery line trembled in the distance, reminding me of a spider’s web.
One of the inmates sprang through the labyrinth, definitely moving too fast to avoid the oncoming trap.
Slice.
I winced, but I forced my eyes to remain open, to observe each misstep. I wanted to be ready in case I found myself in that lethal maze.
“My father wouldn’t approve of this,” I whispered as the Noir’s remains were carelessly swept into the ocean. “Fallen are meant to reform.” I tilted my head, hearing the naïveté in my own words. “I guess some might be past reformation, but death shouldn’t be a spectacle. Not like this.”
Raven stiffened, her ebony wings vibrating like I’d said something wrong. “And you? Are you past reformation,Princess?”
I squeezed my fingers before me, unsure of how to reply. “I suppose that would require me to know how I Fell,” I said softly.
Her eyebrows lifted. “You don’t know how you Fell?”
I shook my head. “My wings just started to turn black one day. I thought it was a prank by one of my unruly cousins, or a trick of the light. Apparently, it wasn’t.” I swallowed and again focused on the labyrinth, but I felt Raven’s eyes on me. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me,” I added. “No one else does.”
She didn’t reply, her lips falling into a flat line.
After several minutes of silence, she whispered, “I know what it’s like not to be believed.”
I glanced at her. “You do?”
She nodded.
More silence.
“How am I supposed to reform if I don’t know my crime?” I asked her, not expecting her to answer at all. “My father sent me here because he trusts my uncle to help me. But I don’t see how that labyrinth is helpful at all.”
“I don’t think it’s meant to be helpful,” she said.
“What do you think it’s meant for?” I asked, studying her profile as she observed the maze once more.
“A training tool,” she muttered.
“A training tool for what?”
“Survival.” A cryptic reply, one that she uttered with a wince before glancing at her mates. They were standing close enough to hear us but didn’t interrupt or speak.
“The Reformer is meant to help Noir regain their wings,” I said slowly, considering her words. “But so far, all I’ve witnessed is intense violence… and survival. I don’t understand the purpose.”
“Maybe you should consider that the Reformer isn’t who you think he is,” she replied, her dark eyes glittering with knowledge. While her aura suggested she was younger than me, her midnight irises radiated with experience that far outlived mine.
“How old are you?” I wondered out loud, trying to discern her features and the strange sort of familiarity of her bone structure. She almost appeared regal with that sharp chin and condescending brow.
“Eighteen.”
I frowned. “When did you Fall?” It seemed wrong for a female of such youth to be here. Granted, I was only three years her elder and I’d apparently Fallen, too. Unless she also didn’t deserve her wings? Was that what she meant when she said she understood what it was like not to be believed?
“At birth,” she replied just as a commotion started across the yard.
My lips parted, dismayed by her comment, but she was already turning toward the gasps and snickers. I rotated with her, only to have Zian and Sorin step in front of us, blocking our view.
