Page 45 of Facade

“Firstly, they’ve been pushed hard since we left. Second, because no one can ride them.”

“Why?”

“Because of this.”

He took my hand beneath his, warmth spreading through me at the contact, as he too stroked the mare’s mane, but then pushed my hand further down and slightly to the right, where my fingers ran over a nasty, jagged, raised scar. He pulled my hand to the other side—same thing. Both had to be at least two feet long and deep. The scars sat right where a rider’s legs would rest.

Cold seeped through my hand as he released it.

“What did this?” I whispered, lightly running my fingers over the rough scars again.

“It’s where her wings were sawed off,” he responded, a darkness taking over his features. “She’s an Empyrean. She and the others like her came from the Western Realm. They use them to pull the carriages since no one can actually ride them. Even if they weren’t heavily scarred, they won’t let anyone in this realm mount them.”

My stomach dropped at the horror before me. Of what these creatures endured—to lose their wings—

“But, I never saw anything like this at the stables at Castle Aurelia. How many are there?” Tears burned and threatened to fall as I continued to stroke her, the mare happy with the attention.

“You wouldn’t see any out there in the summer lands. The King keeps them all at his castle. There were around twenty originally.” He took off the final harness. “They’ve been dying for no apparent reason. They’re meant to be in the skies. Not stuck down here.”

“Why, though? Why would they take away their wings?” I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Aiden’s voice lowered, a sigh pushing past his lips.

“When the Gargoyles went to battle during daylight, they often rode the Empyrean’s since they couldn’t shift. The Gargoyles had the utmost respect for them, which is why the Empyreans allowed them to ride. The royal family, along with their personal guard, gave the majority of the Empyreans a safe space to live on the castle grounds. They’re a very intelligent species.” He smiled, pulling a sugar cube from his pocket, offering it to a brown gelding in the front. “And they’re very loyal,” he added as he led the creature around.

“I think the Fae just wanted to punish them for that loyalty. The Fae tried to cut a deal with the Gargoyle monarch so that they, too, could fly. The Gargoyle King agreed, for the sake of peace, but when the Fae King approached the Empyrean, the animal wouldn’t let him mount.”

“So King Raul took away their wings simply because they what, embarrassed him? Denied him?” I scoffed. Aiden lowered his head in a tight nod. Dread threaded through me as I looked at those scars—proof of the King’s cruelty.

“You know a lot about the Empyreans and the Gargoyles,” I pressed.

The law stating that no one could talk about the subject of Gargoyles couldn’t be heavily enforced if the King’s captain was not only talking about it again, but talking in what seemed to be admiration.

“I enjoy history. And after I became captain, I needed to know all that had happened. Not just with the Western Realm, but all the realms,” he said, leading the other two Empyreans.

“How did you become captain? You’re not Fae… are you?” I fished further. I looked at his very normal ears again. The corner of his mouth tugged up, but he didn’t answer.

“Are you a… a Werewolf or something?” I glanced at his fingers, memories of those black talons flashing through my mind.

“Or something.” His mouth hooked into a grin, fangs on full display, before he walked over to the other males. Dimitri and Brax didn’t have fangs in their human form. Not a Werewolf. What other being could he be? Unless he wasn’t from this continent at all. I wasn’t familiar with any of the beings in the neighboring continent. If I thought the realms here were bad, things between the continents were ten times worse—each one ignoring the existence of the other.

When Aiden loosened up and smiled like that, it stirred something within me that I knew I should fight—I didn’t.

My mouth pressed into a line as I fought the corners from lifting. I reveled in the small victory of getting him into an actual conversation. So much so that I didn’t care he evaded my question of what he was, yet again. I’d figure it out eventually. I had to, so I knew what I was up against when I escaped. Until then, there was no reason for me not to enjoy the small conversations. The attention. That smile was starting to make heat pool low within me, which was just a good distraction from the obstacles ahead.

Everything was loaded onto the horses. Aiden pulled the brown and white mare over, loading our supplies on her. The remaining three, one by one, he slipped off their reins and gently smacked their hindquarters, setting them free. My heart leaped, watching them run off together, neighing and playfully nipping at each other. But a sadness followed when I saw them tilt their heads back to the darkening sky.

The males mounted, leaving Lyra and me standing.

“Lyra can ride with me!” Brax shouted eagerly. Lyra rolled her eyes, looking hopefully toward the others, but each looked to the sky, the trees, imaginary dust on their fighting leathers—anywhere but her.

“Ugh, fine. But you try anything with me, pup, I’ll knock you off that thing.” She stomped over, and as he helped her onto his tall mount, she almost kicked him in the head, cursing that for a Werewolf, he was too skinny.

“I could ride with Dimitri.” I offered.

“I can’t have you on with him. If he has to shift, then it wouldn’t bode well for you. Lots of claws and teeth,” Aiden said sarcastically as he hauled himself up on his own stallion.

“Slade?”

“He’s my master swordsman. It wouldn’t work if we needed his skills and he was stuck on a horse, protecting you. And before you turn to Alaric, his horse is just too small, so you’re stuck with me.”