Page 69 of Wings of Death

I nod, unable to voice anything just yet.

She and Demetros try to approach, but they seem unable to get much farther than the exterior of the stones.

“Something’s preventing me from getting any closer,” Demetros says, his brow creased.

“Same here,” Lacinda protests.

I close my eyes and try to focus. I’m here for a reason. For Kyle. I force myself to stand, stumbling a little as I go.

Demetros reaches out to me, concern etched into his features. “Zarla!”

I swallow hard and hold my hand up. “I’m… I’m okay,” I say.

I glance down at the stone I’m standing on and notice the ancient symbols etched into its surface. The language of the gods.

“Of Kingdoms, angels, and gods?—”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Demetros says. “We don’t know what this is all about, or what will happen if you read from these stones.”

Nausea twists my stomach as my head grows heavy. I know if I don’t do this now, I won’t be able to at all. I can’t handle it much longer. Something doesn’t want me here. I can feel it.

“I have to,” I say, before continuing. “Of Kingdoms, angels, and gods, he shall rise?—”

“Zarla!” Lacinda protests.

“—and bestow his power across the Kingdoms,” I say, ignoring their concerns.

The forest grows eerily quiet then, and I can hear nothing more than my rapid breaths and the beating of my heart. It’s as if time slows, and I turn to my friends, panic twisting their features.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Demetros says, his voice barely audible.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself.

There’s a low rumble as the ground shakes, and I snap my attention back to the stones. Demetros and Lacinda call out to me as they back away, but I’m unable to move. Literally. Panic creeps up my spine. Sweat beads on my forehead.

A bright white light shines up through the centre of the stone, and I have to shield my eyes from its intensity.

There’s an even stronger surge of energy, and it pushes me down to the ground. I fall to my knees, unable to resist it. Icurl myself into a ball, holding my hands over my ears as a loud screech fills the air. The rumbling stops, and I realise the screams are my own.

“Zarla!” Lacinda calls.

“Talk to us!” Demetros demands.

I remove my hands from my ears and slowly uncurl myself to see a pair of impeccable black leather boots standing before me.

“Well, hello there, Zarla Quinn.”

The voice is deep and alluring, and every fibre in my body is screaming at me to get away from it. Away fromhim.

I slowly raise my attention up to see a dangerously gorgeous male. His dark, dishevelled hair is falling over his forehead, his pale skin almost illuminated beneath the glow of the moonlight, and he has the most incredible red eyes. He is absolutely mesmerising. He looks young, maybe in his twenties, but something tells me he is much, much older than that.

I notice the nausea has eased and the heaviness I felt has lifted. I slowly stand as the male watches my every move. His stare is powerful and has me feeling as though I should kneel before him or something.

He chuckles. “No need to kneel, little angel.”

My eyes widen.He can hear my thoughts?

“I can indeed. But not to fear. I won’t hold them against you. I usually have the same impression on those who dare call upon me.” His perfectly shaped lips curl up into a smirk.

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