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PARTI
TORMENTED
CHAPTER1
Ash from my dead mate clung to my knuckles as I curled my fingers into fists. They were shaking. They hadn't stopped shaking since Wynvail died in my arms. This ash and the blood staining my clothes, crusted on my arms, was the only thing left of him.
"Almost there," Emlyn soothed, rubbing his hand up and down my back. I didn't have the heart to tell him the gesture was pointless because I was entirely numb.
I kept my eyes on the cracks in the pavement as we walked across Edinburgh. I didn't know how we'd gotten here, didn't particularly care. I only looked up to count my mates, to make sure we hadn't lost anyone else.
Harvey. Wane. Kai. Emlyn. And Wynvail was dead.
What was the last thing I told him before he died? I couldn't remember. But I remembered all the times I'd called him a monster, called him evil, and said I hated him. I did—I still did, even now—but I couldn't ignore the part of my heart that loved him, too.
"Are you sure this house is safe?" Wane asked warily, his voice low but not quiet enough to stop me hearing.
"Don't," Harvey sighed, skimming the back of his hand down my arm in the place of a brush of his wing. They were glamoured away, so humans didn't run screaming from the sight of us. Let them scream; who the fuck cared?
I hunched my shoulders, my arms wrapped around my middle. I was covered in blood—all of us were. So much that we'd got a few wary looksanda well-meaning woman who asked if we needed help. Kai hissed in her face, summing up how I felt about someone talking to me, expecting me to form words.
My mate was dead. He diedin my arms,and even that wasn't enough; Cronus had to unmake him. He had to turn him to dust and then snuffthatout until there was no part of Wynvail left. My nostrils flared with faster breaths. A keening sound got stuck in my throat; I hugged myself tighter, digging my fingernails into my skin.
I wanted him back.
I hated him, and would happily break his nose, but I wanted him back. He was my psychopath. Mine to kill. I hadn't even—gods, I hadn't even properlykissedhim.
"We should be more worried about whatever the fuck that was under the Damned House," Kai muttered, glaring at everyone and anyone we passed. "Cronus will send that thing after us."
"Do you know what it was?" Emlyn asked Wane, his voice heavy and tired, matching the deep lines on his face. "Did Cronus ever talk about it?"
I lifted my head to watch Wane shake his head, long chestnut hair matted to his head and hanging, grimy and lank, around his face. His whole body was covered in filth from the tunnel cell he'd been locked in, his clothes ragged and old. Blood had soaked into the back of his shirt. Blood that still flowed now. I wanted to ask if he was in pain, but I couldn't find the energy to open my mouth.
Had I been unmade, too?
"Here, this looks right," Emlyn murmured, running his hand up and down my back. I hated not having my wings to wrap around myself; I felt bare, exposed. "It's that house with the black railings, isn't it?"
Harvey muttered his agreement, and we all shuffled up the terrace’s three checkerboard steps to the front door—and promptly realised we didn't have a key.
"Shit," Harvey hissed, rubbing his face and looking as exhausted as I felt. Like I was dead inside.
"I'll kick the door in," Kai offered, hungry for violence.
He lifted his foot, but dropped it back to the step when the lacquered black door of the house next door creaked open and an ageing, elegant woman popped her head out. She fit into a place like this, unlike us. Her hair was in silver curls, her slim body draped in fine, beaded silk, and pearl jewellery clung to her throat and fingers.
"I've got a key," she told us, reaching up into a basket of bright pink flowers that dangled from her porch stoop. "Wynvail said you'd be needing it. He didn't say anything about you being beaten to hell, though." She slid a look in our direction, missing the flinch that rocked me at hearing his name spoken so casually. "It's not gangs, is it? I don't want anyone starting shit on my doorstep."
I barely blinked at her coarse language.
Emlyn shook his head, at a loss for words for a moment. "Not gangs. We were—attacked."
The woman clucked her tongue. "Crime in this area's shocking lately. Here you are." Emlyn accepted the key with obvious surprise.
"You must be Halwen," she added, her eyes on me with curiosity and a touch of worry. "Beautiful and tough, exactly like he described you. You're lucky, having a man like that. I need a man who'll buy me a house, too. I had to start a multi-million business and buy this one myself."
She smiled, expecting us to laugh, and seemed to belatedly notice the sombre mood. "WhereisWynvail? Not with you?"
I screwed my eyes shut. I couldn't stand it—hearing his name, listening to this woman talking about him like he was amazing and kind and generous. Like he was coming back.
