Page 40 of Secrets of the Six

I don't know what possesses me to do it, but I reach out my hand and the second my fingertips make contact with his skin, his breathing shifts.

I retract my hand. "I'm sorry," I whisper, not sure what's gotten ahold of me.

"Don't apologize," he tosses me a look over his shoulder. "It's ok. You can touch me."

For a reason I can't explain, I sense he needs this physical contact. So, I press the palm of my hand against his taut muscular back and slowly drag my fingers from one shoulder to the other.

He's made me a believer that he has the tattoos, but now, I want to see if he indeed has the wings. "Show me."

"Show you what?"

"Your wings."

For a moment we stand in complete silence, and I fear I've asked too much of him. Without warning, he stalks away from me, and once he's half a room away, he turns around. By the look of surprise plastered on my face he shrugs. "I needed space."

Suddenly, as if just a thought commands them to appear, two magnificent black feathered wings sprout and stretch nearly the width of my bedroom. His wingspan is impressive, and I find myself sliding off my bed and approaching him as a priest would exude reverence for an altar. He's beautiful and although I have sparse memories of the Venturan warriors soaring through Orlencia many years ago, I have never found myself close enough to touch one until now.

This time I keep my hands to myself, not wanting to push boundaries, but sensing my hesitation, he grabs my hand and pulls me closer. The gap between us is non-existent and his wings wrap around me, cocooning me with him.

"Do you believe me now?" he asks with a voice that teeters on broken.

I glance above me and see how tall his wings are, and a tear slips from my eye at the wondrous sight before me. Reaching upward, I stroke a finger against one of the soft feathers and smile.

"I believe you." I meet his line of sight and there's something so haunting about the way he stares at me. "What is it?"

"I haven't seen you smile until now." He slips his hand along the crook of my jawline. "I'd have you smile again."

"I still hate you for what you did," I say softly, wishing there was more conviction backing those words up. "I have yet to forgive you."

"Then allow me to pay penance for my sin against you." He presses his forehead against mine before dragging his hand down from my face to my waist and slowly kneels before me. "What must I do to earn your trust, Vibora? Speak freely and it will be yours."

My skin heats as I finger through his hair, internally screaming I shouldn't allow myself to fall for this man. He's dangerous. But I've never been a good listener.

I lean downward as he tilts his head upward. Our lips are so close, just an inch of bravery and I'll finally know what he tastes like, but before anything more can transpire between us, a heavy knock on the door breaks the thread of tension.

His wings disappear as he dashes to his feet, ensuring his back isn't facing the door. I toss him his shirt and as he thrusts his hands into the armholes, the door flies open, and Lupe stops dead in her tracks when she sees us. Her mouth opens and closes several times, but words fail her.

I have to do something, so I tease, "Don't just stand there looking like a fish with their mouth open, Lupe. Either come in or get out."

That seems to snap her from her stupor and a deep frown line ripples across her forehead.

"Mocosa," she grumbles. "I came to help you get dressed but it seems someone has already seen to that." Her judgmental gaze slides to Remus and I start to wonder if she is privy to his true identity or if she only knows him as Salvador.

"Apologies, Tia." Aunt. Remus refastens his buttons with lightning speed. "I assure you, it's not what you think."

"Oh, and you know what thoughts are running through my head now, do you, culo?" Ass. Lupe slams her hands to her wide hips and snarls.

My eyes bounce between them. "Tia?"

"Don't look so surprised, girl." Lupe's nostrils flare like a raging bull darting across a field. "I practically helped raise him and that rascal cousin of his."

Now everything starts to fall into place. Lupe has been in Otero's service for over thirty years. If she is aware of Otero's private and political dealings, then she obviously knows about Remus and Cassias.

Lupe's disapproving glare is pinned on Remus, now completely dressed. "You know you need to keep your face hidden. Far too many gossips in Orlencia for my liking."

Remus sighs as if he's used to the old woman's lectures. He walks across the room and plants a gentle kiss to her forehead. "As always, you're right."

He slips his hand in his pocket and pulls out the infamous mask, which is in fact not used to hide a disfigurement, but his identity. Quickly fastening the mask he's clearly familiar with wearing, he gives me one last look before he slips past Lupe and out into the hallway.