Page 105 of Why Broken Wings Fray

“Go,” Rory whispered, his plea as strong as ever even if his words barely formed.

“No,” someone declared, a voice far more powerful and assertive than the rest. A voice that I knew to be Brian. “We’re going to need her.”

Prepared to refute the idea of working with them ever again, I opened my mouth only to feel a blunt pain against the back of my head. For a moment, it was just the simple ringing that vibrated every bone and ricochetted across my skull. But then the ground was approaching and the world was a blur of blues and greens and yellows, the pain was ebbing across the back of my head, and I was left staring at the only thing that was focused in a world of blurring numbness.

Raegan, head hung against his chest, opened his eyes slowly. They met mine, the world went quiet, and I slipped away into a new type of darkness.

47

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I woke up in an unfamiliar room, filled with unfamiliar scents, and an overly familiar face staring at me.

“You should’ve run,” Rory sighed.

“You should’ve restrained me,” I growled, launching myself up from the cold corner of the floor that I had been set in. The tiny scalpel that had followed me through this whole journey, which was passed from pocket to pocket in each of my outfits, was gripped tightly in my hand as I grabbed onto Rory and threw him up against the closest wall.

It was then that I realized we were in some sort of dark, moist place. Likely a cellar, due to the fact that there were no windows that allowed in natural light, but a flickering light above. A real light, electricity and all, which confirmed my fear that they had, indeed, gotten us out of Saoghal.

Scalpel to his throat, I pushed him as hard as I could against the cold brick behind him and tempted the blade closer to his skin. It rested there, right along his artery, and I warned him with my eyes not to move.

“You took my advice, I see,” Rory grunted as he tried to remain as still as possible. “We sent you into the fox’s den and it seems you emerged a wolf.”

“Where is Raegan?”

My tone caused Rory’s eyes to widen. “Olivia, we need–”

“Where. Is. Raegan.” I was unforgiving with my pursuit, pressing the sharpened blade enough that it pricked a droplet of his blood. He hissed as the iron burned at him, causing his instincts to sharpen as his pupils widened and his lips curled back to reveal his fangs.

“Tell me where he is, Rory, or I will–”

“He is here.” Rory winced, trying his best to slide himself away from my scalpel, but I kept the pressure even to his neck. “He is here.”

“Is he alive?”

“Yes.”

“Is he going to remain alive for the next ten minutes?”

Rory cocked a brow, but ultimately sighed. “As long as he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

So probably not.

I grunted, forcing my body to relax in one swift movement that meant I dropped the weapon from Rory. My judgement of his character, even though he continued to prove me wrong, caused me to believe that he meant me no harm. Or little harm.

“Then we are going to talk.”

His eyes narrowed as he regarded me, my slow prowl of him as I took to a wide circle around his body.

“I thought we were friends, Rory.”

I did not say it with the heartbreak that resided within me but with the venom that sat on the tip of my tongue. I imagined if I had a mirror, I would have Raegan’s pointed star and his sly mask that fell on his face when he needed to be ruthless and cruel.

“We are.”

“How can we be?” I stopped circling him and threw my shoulders up to my ears. “Friends do not do that to friends.”

“Do what?”