Page 94 of Wings of Death

He braces one hand against the wall next to my head and leans in close, and my breath catches at his proximity.

“Where were you?” he demands.

I study his face and find genuine concern there. What does he think happened to me? There is no danger here. We’re in the castle, surrounded by guards and guardian angels, all of whom know how to fight, and almost all of whom have powers to defend the Kingdom from whatever threat surfaces.

And one who murdered my mother, I mentally remind myself.

“I have been here the entire time,” I say, a half-truth. It’s not like I left the ball or anything.

He takes my chin in his fingers and tilts my head up to him so he can look me in the eye. “Don’t play games with me. I have been looking for you everywhere.”

I move my head to the side, and he drops his hand. “I’m not.”

His gaze drops to my lips, hovering there for a moment, and then traces down my body as he moves in a little closer. Gods above, not again. We need to keep our distance. He cannot be my guard if this is to happen every time we are around one another.

I swallow hard, biting my bottom lip. Kyle’s face shifts to the forefront of my mind, and it’s enough to clear my clouded judgement. I slip out of Amaros’s hold and move to the side.

I spot Demetros through the crowd, watching us. Confusion twists his features, and he quickly looks away.

Shoot. Things are far too complicated already without having to explain this to him.

“Stay where I can see you, or I’m going to have to stick much, much closer,” he says, as if it’s a threat, but we both know it’s exactly what he wants to do.

I don’t respond, and he leaves me alone and moves back to the bar, where he continues to watch me from afar.

“There you are.”

I turn to find my father approaching, his long grey hair pulled back into a bun. He’s wearing white and gold robes. He opens his arms, and I reluctantly hug him.

“Father,” I say, still mad at him after our last encounter.

He glances over my dress, and recognition flashes in his eyes. “Your mother looked beautiful in that dress,” he says with a pause, “as do you.”

I lean my back up against the wall. “You have a good memory.”

He chuckles and glances out at the crowds. “It’s not that. If you saw her, you wouldn’t have forgotten either. She was very memorable like that. Always the most fashionable female in the room. Hethenos was—” He stops midsentence when he sees me tense at the mention of her name, and frowns. “I know the two of you haven’t had the best relationship…”

I step off from the wall and clench my fists. “No, we haven’t. I do not want to speak about her.”

He scans the room and spots her near the dance floor chatting with several male angels. I notice the twins are hovering close by, almost like they’re her guards.

He watches her for a moment before looking at me. “I know you don’t understand my affections for her?—”

I can’t help but laugh.

“But,” he continues, emphasising the word, “she is a very passionate female. She cares for me a great deal. She is my wife, Zarla. We have a daughter together.”

I cringe at his words. “I am well aware of that, believe me.”

He sighs. “She was never good to you. I know that. I was thankful Lissian stepped in when she did. She stepped in, and she raised you.” He pauses, and I almost wonder if he’s finishedtalking when he suddenly continues. “I know I haven’t been the best father to you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. You know I love you, and I will always care about you. I may not agree with certain choices that you make, but I am proud of you. I am proud of the strong female you have become, and I know your mother would be proud too.”

I squeeze my eyes closed. “Yes, she is,” I say and walk off through the crowds.

I’m not ready for that conversation. I need more time. And until I can prove what I suspect about Hethenos, I can’t risk mentioning it. And I wouldn’t at a ball anyway. I have my doubts about whether he’ll believe me, regardless of whatever evidence I present to him. But I have to try at some point.

Astelle and four of her friends surround me.

“Sister,” Astelle greets me, practically spitting the word out.

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