“Ready?” She snorted a laugh. “Certainly not. But I’m going to do it nonetheless.”
And those knives lining her waist glimmered in the chandelier’s mystlight, giving her the impression of a walking weapon. That’s what Santorina had become since the full emergence of her Bounty power: a living, breathing threat.
That’s what we all would be to survive the impending storm.
Chapter Eleven
Ophelia
“Ophelia,”Damien commanded.
My attention snapped up. “I’m sorry?”
“Have you listened to anything I’ve said?”
I shook my head, not even attempting to lie. All I could hear through the haze that had claimed my mind was Echnid’s stories of gods and Realmspinners, closed bridges and freeing legends.
Echnid has more tales to share, a voice said in my head, and the fog wrapped tighter around my mind. The Curse mark on my wrist pounded as if even the blood pumping through my veins was elated.
The past few meetings, Echnid had me demonstrate how I could wield my Angellight and mythos power. I hadn’t woken anything, but the Warrior God watched my precise control with such a keen interest. Pride flowed through me, stronger each night.
But everything in me froze when Damien said, “Today you are going to attempt to fly.”
“What?” I shrieked.
The Angel nodded, arms locked over his chest, the smug satisfaction on his expression the kind only archaic years could spawn.
“How in the Angel’s realm do you expect me to do that?” I asked, crossing my arms to match his.
“We’ve been strengthening your wings in our trainings for weeks. Your back muscles are strong, and you’ve learned to balance your body.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to jump off a mountain,” I drawled.
“Did I say to do that?” Damien asked dryly.
I sighed, the fog thickening. “I can barely move my wings.”
“You’re not trying.”
And that accusation snapped something brutal within me. “Don’t!” I snarled. Angellight pulsed around us—seraph power ofmymaking searing through my fogged mind. Making everything a bit clearer as I pulled myself from recollections of Echnid. “Donottell me I’m not trying. I’ve done nothing but try for a year—done nothing but work to unravelyourprophecies and curses.”
“This is a part of that, Ophelia. That curse is still alive within you, a tie to the present you are trying to escape, and the magic within you marks it. But just because you found an answer you don’t like, does not mean you give up.”
His words cloyed in my ears, pressure tightening my chest and shortening my breaths.
“I’m drained!” The confession was hot gravel burning up my throat. “Do you even care?” And the words that had been pushing at me every time I trained with Damien broke free. “You killed Annellius!”
The Angel froze, his stony expression etched from marble.
“Why did you do it?” I barreled on. “Why did you kill him?”
Damien crossed his arms, his expansive wings tucking in like he was uncomfortable, but his tone revealed nothing. “He was throwing away everything we worked for.”
“Because he didn’t want to free Echnid?”
“Yes,” he said through a tight jaw. And his eyes warned me not to ask more—not to taint the air with the question on the tip of my tongue:What if he shouldn’t be free?
He should be, a voice in the back of my head argued, wrapping the fog back around me like a worn cloak as my light winked out.Echnid deserves his revenge.
