Page 155 of Wings of Destruction

Istare after Kieran for long minutes after he disappears from sight. The pain in his eyes does something to me. It quiets the screaming voice in my head but my body still thrums with violence barely contained.

The blade is heavy in my pocket and my fingers itch to use it but that involves chasing after him, and I know that if I do, if I meet his eyes again, I’ll waver.

Wavering is worse than charging headfirst into the unknown because it means you lack the strength and the gumption to carry out your wishes.

Why did he say I’d take him with me? He’s untouchable. He’s the most sought after person in this school. Why is he here, anyway? Why isn’t he out there with Daddy, doing his part in the wave of terror?

I turn around the empty classroom rubbing my free hand absently over my throbbing wrist. Sighing, I reach for the book and tuck it underneath my arm. I’ve got little choice here. With painful effort, I limp out of the classroom.

My body tenses for another physical attack but there’s none coming. There’s only raw skin, clenched fists, and a searing burn where my heart used to be.

“Why should I listen to anything he says?” My words echo off empty stone. “He’s spinning tales. Manipulating me.”

Only that’s not the feeling I get from him. It shouldn’t matter, feelings, because they’re nebulous things. They have no substance of their own but they control too many people.

Empty suits of armor track my progress toward the private gym, where my footsteps take me like they have tiny minds of their own. I suck in my breath at the empty hall.

Nearly empty.

Daisy, Druella, and a handful of other maids march in a unified formation toward me without their usual weapons of mops and buckets. Everything inside of me sinks.

“Milkin’s messengers?” I call out.

They’re too far away to see me swallow, or to mark the flash of desperation at their arrival. A pinching sensation in my abdomen warns me not to engage. I’m injured and wanted.

The sickening desire to run from them strips away even the smallest veneer of civility and floods me with adrenaline.

Daisy sets her hands above her pointy hip bones, her wide mouth a splash of pink across her face. “Milkin doesn’t know we’re here.”

“Oh, so she didn’t send you to collect me? I thought for sure you’d want me up in the dragon aerie again.” I draw up straighter.

“The dragon aerie is going to be like paradise compared to where you’re going.” Druella fingers my necklace, still hanging around her neck. “Milkin sent us to collect you, but not for the aerie.”

Maybe Harbi wasn’t happy with my answer in her office, either, and sent word. This is the crew, who’ve come to collect me and put me back in chains in the dungeon.

“I’m out of this place anyway.” I spin on my heel. “It doesn’t matter what you say or what she wants.”

They’re safe to move in the corridors now, when the nobles are at play or too busy stuffing their faces with suffocating richness. This is when the hives empty and the workers who keep this place spotless are allowed a few lungfuls of air without duty.

“Faye told us you were down in the kitchen with your hands tied.” The horde marches behind me and the statement comes from a woman with an overbite and cow-eyes. “What game are you playing?”

“The kind designed to go over your head,” I mutter under my breath.

I readjust Kieran’s book and press it to my heart, leather and paper protection from their words.

They don’t know anything. They think I’m still going to the mines. Faye might have given away one of my secrets but they have no clue that Evie will be the one to end my life. I’ll be flayed open on the wrong end of a whip.

My skin tightens and the smallest shred of a survival instinct is the only thing keeping me from reacting when Daisy grabs me by the shoulders.

“Don’t get her involved in your mess. You’re the kind of poison who destroys everything around you.” Derision drips from the tip of her pointed nose. “Faye is a good girl. We’ve watched out for her longer than you’ve been here and we will keep watching out for ourselves when you’re gone.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know I’m leaving sooner than expected.”

Speaking of the unexpected—the tears pushing against my eyes are certainly a surprise.

Loneliness. The word sits in my chest like a blade between ribs—sharp, precise, and exactly where Kieran intended it to land.

Faye is one of the only maids who looked out for me, in her own brusque way. She’s someone who might have been a friend under vastly different circumstances. She has her own close knit community made up of other lost souls who have made tentative peace with their situation.