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As soon as her hands break apart, I lace my digits with hers. She squeezes me, and I clasp her just as tightly.
Doing as I said, she shuffles about a foot to the right, giving me just enough room to release my wings.
Being careful not to let them unfold too fast, I gradually allow the slits over my shoulder blades to open. My skin is drier than usual from the air of the Lost Land, and my scars stretch uncomfortably as the leathery flaps appear.
Just like the rest of my upper body, my wings are scarred, too. They’re not pretty, but they’re fully functional.
Ro doesn’t react negatively to them.
I can’t say the same for the lycans, though.
Their grunts become more frequent, and their tone is higher. Almost like they’re… unsure. Maybe a little confused.
Suddenly, I realize why they haven’t attacked us yet.
It’s me. My disfigurement.
They’ve never seen a fae like me—someone forever damaged—and they’re just as disgusted with me as I am with them.
Sometimes my ugliness works in my favor, and I’m thankful for it in this moment. It’s bought us a little time from a vicious onslaught.
However, I notice the moment the lycans make the decision to disregard the fear of the unknown and just come at us already. Several of them give a bolstering huff, like warriors who are about to go into battle.
Spinning Ro like we’re dancing, I loop my arm around her back. With my left hand still connected to her right, she ends up restrained by her own limb that’s smashed between us. She’s wrapped up, and that’s not a bad thing. That means she can’t move, and I’ve got her right where I need her to be.
Flapping my wings once, I use enough force to get us ten feet off the ground. Ro gives a little shriek, but she puts her trust in me, shutting her eyes and clinging to my neck with her free arm.
Realizing their hesitation has resulted in a loss, the lycans let out a few angry howls as they lunge to the spot where we were just standing. They crash into each other, then they jump into the air as they try to reach us.
It’s actually quite shocking how high they can get. One of them nearly grabs my boot when I’m level with the top of the two-story roofs around us, but they’re too late.
We got away. For now.
As we rise above the houses, I see another pack appearing from an alley up the street.
Those tricky fuckers had backup in case we decided to run. Flying was definitely the right call.
Finally snapping out of her panic, Ro squirms and kicks clumsily. I put my sword away and firmly support her back while letting her trapped arm go. Still, she wiggles, and her eyes are wide as she looks down.
Her fear is bewildering to me. She might not have wings of her own, but it’s hard for me to believe she hasn’t flown before.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never done this.” I focus on her face, which has lost some of its color.
Grimacing sheepishly, she admits, “Not in a very long time. When Zander was a teenager, he took me for a few rides when he was in griffin form, but I only agreed to it because I was trying to get him to embrace his power. I thought it would lift his spirits if he could share his ability with me. You know, show it off a little. But on the inside, I was freaking out the entire time. I didn’t even open my eyes.”
“You’re a good mother,” I praise, impressed all over again at her selflessness when it comes to her son.
“You’d be surprised how much courage a parent can muster up for their child.”
I wouldn’t know. I’ve never thought about having kids. It’s one of those subjects I’ve always been completely neutral about.
However, I do know what it’s like to tap into bravery I didn’t realize I had on account of someone else. Since meeting Ro, I’ve become well-acquainted with the resolve to sacrifice myself.
“Well, it’s no mystery why you didn’t want to stay in Valora,” I tease. “You didn’t get to experience one of the best parts of being fae—flight. Hold onto my neck and wind your legs around my waist. I’m going to show you what you’ve been missing.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
