Page 112 of Wings of Death

Her expression changes, and I see the pain in her eyes. “He did.”

Anger bubbles inside me as the reality of her words sets in. Father knew about me this entire time and never told me? Why didn’t he ever talk to me about this?

“What does it mean for me to be a descendant of a goddess?”

She releases one of my hands and tucks her hair behind her ear while she stares out over the water again. “It means you are much more powerful than other angels. And you will have special abilities that others do not.”

I remember how her daggers had leached into me the power to heal, how I have been able to use her locket to unlock doors that have been sealed, as well as harnessing my own powers too, which seem vastly stronger than most angels.

“I wish you were still around to guide me through this time,” I say, the sadness clear in my voice.

There’s a sudden boom as thunder tears across the sky and the sun disappears behind thick, thunderous clouds. My mother looks at me, her features twisted with concern.

“You must go, Zarla.” She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the water and up onto the grass bank.

I scan our surroundings as fear prickles my skin. The wind picks up with a howl, blowing leaves around our feet.

“Now, Zarla. Get to the gateway,” she urges.

I glance around with no clue where to find it. “Where?”

She pulls me toward the trees and points toward something in the forest. I squint my eyes and spot it. There’s that clear shift in the air, and I can see the gateway glowing a little.

Fear seeps into my chest. “I’m afraid.”

She pulls me into a hug. “I know,” she softly says, “but you have to. Just visualise the gateway in the Dark Forest, and it will take you there.”

Panic tugs at my insides. “But that didn’t work when I tried to go to Zarquon. I came here instead.”

There’s another thunderous roar across the sky, and we both look up before she tugs me toward the trees. “You must go now, Zarla. Hurry.”

I hurry toward the gateway, but she calls out, “Zarla, your memories can be found using the dark magic. Trust it.”

Her words confuse me, which soon morphs into horror as a huge male, over seven foot tall crashes into her and sends her flying back. My focus shifts to the enormous male who’s glaringat me through dark, angry eyes. He’s shirtless, and his muscles ripple across his body as his chest heaves with rapid breaths.

Nope. No way,I think as I make a beeline for the trees, picturing the Gateway of the Gods back in the Dark Forest.

I’m about to jump through when a large hand grips my ankle. I scream as I fall down onto my stomach and spin around to see the male laying across the ground, holding onto my ankle. His head is clean shaven, covered in markings and symbols, and his eyes hold a darkness in them that asserts pure dominance.

I screech and kick him in the head, but he doesn’t let me go, totally unphased by my feeble attempts to escape his grasp. And then I spot my mother running toward him. She leaps onto his back, and he releases me and turns on her.

“Go now, Zarla!” she demands.

I stare in terror at the male, who now has his eyes set on her. Who in the gods is he? The last thing I want to do is leave her here to defend herself alone, but something tells me she can handle it and has done so before. I hurry to my feet, picturing Silanthia, and jump through the gateway.

I free-fall through the darkness until the same speck of bright light appears below me, growing larger until it’s the same eight-foot-wide portal again. I fall through it and land with a hard thud on the grass in the clearing of the Dark Forest, and let out a sigh of relief as I roll onto my back.

My chest heaves up and down while I struggle to control my breathing.

A pair of familiar boots storm toward me. “There you are,” a deep voice says.

I roll onto my stomach and climb to my feet as Amaros approaches me.

“What in the gods are you doing? Did you just come through that gateway?” he asks, his tone harsh.

I swallow hard as I try to come up with an excuse, any excuse, so I don’t have to explain that I am a descendent of a goddess. That my mother was a freakin’ goddess.

And then it occurs to me he probably already knows.

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