Page 37 of Wings of Destruction

Then I’m swallowed, my pulse a primitive rhythm.

Wincing, I take in everything I can, determined to memorize the surroundings and find my exit. The main hall shoots straight back to the rear of the castle without obstacle and the ceiling stands over twenty feet high I’d guess.

Panic floods me and bile burns my throat.

Doors leading off the central hallway are more than likely classrooms or main areas for the students to congregate. But the space is noticeably absent of life at our approach.

Black marble floors with veins like rivers of gold decorate the foyer and hallways. Everything is made from the finest materials, from the corbels in the doorways to the ribbed vaults delineating the ceiling structure.

“Let me go!” I buck again. “Don’t touch me!”

“Tristan, control her mouth.”

The guards pull up short as Kieran steps out of the shadows of one of the highly decorative alcoves. The glimmer of sunlight illuminates the strands of hair so dark they’re blue around his temples.

My eyes instantly track the way his throat works, and I pause. Surprised.

He’d beaten us here.

How?

Tristan huffs and a smile snakes over his handsome features. “I like it when they scream.”

“I bet you do. I’ll take her from here.”

Kieran’s steps are sure. With a flick of his finger, the other soldiers set me on my feet. The impact of the closing front doors rockets through me. But he holds my gaze.

Without blinking, without breaking, he takes the strap of rope linking my wrists together and wraps it around his fist.

“Come on, girl.”

I still haven’t told him my name. If he knows it’s a power play, he doesn’t let on.

Tristan throws his hands in the air. “Fine. You want her? She’s your problem anyway. You’re the one who insisted I bring her here.”

“What have you done with the others?” I mutter.

A flicker of emotion colors Kieran’s cheeks.

Rather than answering, he says to Tristan, “I’ll take her down myself.”

Tristan stomps off muttering something about job completion and lack of respect.

“Well?” I press hotly. “Where are they?”

Kieran gives a tug and I lurch toward him, colliding with his back when he turns to drag me down the corridor.

“Don’t worry about them.”

Dismissed, again. Like a child tugging at the hem of a mother too distracted to pay attention.

“They have names. They’re people, like you. Like me. Nen, and Emory. Lanai. Celeste. Brian. Digby. Whit. Solange.”

I name off every face I remember saving. The ones I see in my dreams when I finally close my eyes and sleep twists fantasy and reality together.

“Are you done?” Kieran replies when I finish.

We walk to the end of the grand hallway together and when we reach a paneled door hidden in plain sight, he offers me a scowl.