Page 10 of Of Bone and Ash

The distant cheers of people echo through the brisk evening air outside my window. The sun slowly sinks behind the mountains, making way for the pearly light of the moon to show dimly in the darkening sky.

I frown and walk over to the large window in the small living room, looking over the forest below, then glance to the left where bright lights stand tall, lighting a field below. There are bleachers full of people I can barely make out, and I shake my head as I watch night fall. There is something strange about the night here. It comes quickly and holds an air that I’m not used to. It both concerns and excites me. My mind is telling me to stay inside while my magic begs me to go down to the forest below, the darkness calling to us like a siren's song.

I look at the thick trees below and then at the light where the cheers of the crowds echo, a wave of longing suddenly striking me as my gaze bounces back and forth. I feel trapped, stuck between two worlds like a ghost doomed to haunt a world it doesn’t belong in.

Light and life or dark and death. One calls to me more than the other, beckoning me into its shadowy arms with a promise of calm and peace. To soothe my unsettled soul and rip apart the very existence that causes me confusion, I long to surrender to death the way my lungs seek the air to breathe. And that is the biggest fear of all.

Death. My Death.

I can't help but wonder what it would be like to die. To let my magic not only consume me, but take me from this existence and finally silence the dark voices in my head.

I startle when more cheers erupt, yanking me out of my twisted daydream, and grumble under my breath in annoyance. They’ve been going on and off for over two hours, and I can't help but wonder how long rugby games take. Will this be something I’ll have to deal with every night? If so, I’ll have to invest in a pair of earplugs. Sighing, I look to the corner of the cozy living room where the fire I built is crackling merrily in the hearth and roll my eyes, moving to sit on the couch.

“Are you going to come out yet? Or will you creep on me like a freak all evening?” I ask. Then grab the fleece blanket I draped over the couch and tug it onto my lap, trying desperately to fight off the cold that always seems to linger deep in my bones. Reaching up, I gather my long hair into a messy bun on top of my head, tying it up with the hair tie I keep on my wrist.

The light in the corner of the room bends and twists moments before a weird popping sound fills my ears. My oldest brother's shield, which he constructed to hide himself from me, falls away, leaving behind a fuming man with dark hair and eyes.

I smirk at him as I reach forward and grab the bag of potato chips I set out on my coffee table for this talk. “Chip?” I offer, popping open the bag and grabbing a handful of the delicious little snacks as Atlas glares daggers at me.

“How long have you known I was here?” he asks, voice low and clipped with anger.

“Since you crept into my room, about…” I look down at my phone and nod before looking back up at him. “Forty-six minutes ago,” I respond, making Atlas’ frown deepen.

“How the hell do you do that? Not even Gabe can see past my shields,” Atlas mutters, callused hands moving to the wheels of his chair as he pushes himself forward. Twisting the wheelchair expertly, he flicks the wheel locks down before leaning forward and lifting himself out of the chair and onto the couch next to me. He’s slower as he folds his slim legs under him, scowling at them with bitter resentment before he finally settles and looks back at me. Dark, chocolate brown eyes watch me down a long, straight nose. His lips are thin as he scowls at me and crosses his arms back over his chest.

“How mad are you?” I ask, popping another chip into my mouth. I lean back, getting comfy. My stomach rumbles as I give it the food it's been craving all day, but I ignore it in favor of watching my brother.

“There is no form of measurement that I can use at this moment. Ask me tomorrow,” Atlas grinds out, brown hair styled to perfection, the strands longer on top and shorter on the sides. His gold earrings gleam in the fire's soft glow as we sit across from each other on the couch, and I nod, acknowledging his anger.

“Deal. Now, how much trouble am I in?” I ask, and Atlas chuckles coldly. I figured since Gabriel hadn't visited yet and my phone had stopped ringing, Atlas had already contacted him. “And how did you know I was here? I thought I’d covered my tracks well. I didn't anticipate a confrontation from you until tomorrow mid-day,” I add, slightly frustrated at myself for being unable to stay hidden from my brothers for long.

“You did cover your tracks,” Atlas bites out, eyes flashing with fury as he leans forward. “To the point that Danica had to calm Gabriel down before he destroyed the entire Council Building.” I wince at that remark, a small amount of guilt filtering in.

“Oops,” I mutter.

“Oops,” Atlas agrees and sighs. “It wasn't until you crossed over my shields on Silverwood grounds that I knew where you were and could call Gabe. He’s furious, by the way. Only once I threatened to give Dani every ounce of embarrassing blackmail I have on him did he agree to wait until he calmed down to talk to you.” I laugh at that, thinking about my brother's sassy little wife and how she has my scary big brother wrapped around her tiny finger.

“Yeah, that would do it,” I agree.

“You owe me,” he points out, and I snort.

“I owe Dani by the sounds of it, though I’m honestly shocked that she’s managed to keep Gabe home for this long if he knows my location,” I grumble, a slight note of bitterness filtering into my words. Atlas frowns, catching on to my mood immediately, like fucking always, and shakes his head.

“You know Gabe only ever wanted to protect you, Fina,” he whispers, the anger melting from him instantly. His hand moves to rest on my leg, where he pats it a few times. “He has one focus in life: to protect those he loves.”

“And to fix what Dad did,” I add, thinking of my brother's obsession to right the wrongs my lunatic father inflicted on this world.

“Yes, I suppose there is that. But Fina…” Atlas starts, and I sigh, roll my eyes, and nod.

“I know. I wasn't there for most of it. So I don’t know what I’m talking about,” I whisper, my throat tightening with my lies.

My father was a monster. A true fucking nightmare who reigned over the Fae world for years without any repercussions for his horrid actions. His obsession with creating a stronger, deadlier Fae species almost killed not only my brothers but several other Fae. It got to the point that the Angels had to come in and take care of the Demons my father negotiated with.

The number of Fae killed or harmed by dear old dad is still unknown but believed to be in the thousands. He used me as a pawn to keep my brothers in line and bend them to his will. Gabe did manage to save me; I only wish it had been before Dad turned his psychotic gaze on me.

Not that my brothers know that.

As far as they know, I’m the first female Reaper born in centuries, and that's why I have magic control issues. Not that I have something more—something darker—lingering in my mind. It would probably kill Gabe if he ever found out Dad tested on me before he swooped in and saved the day.

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