Page 133 of Wings of Death

The crowds erupt into gasps and whispers. Demetros, Lacinda, and I share horrified looks.

No angel has been sentenced to the fires before, at least not that I can recall. The fires are where they burn angels alive. A shiver radiates down my spine at the thought.

Hethenos looks to Amaros and mouths, “You will pay for this.”

What does she mean by that? That she blames him?

That same feeling of dread swirls in my stomach as the guard leads her from The Throne room back out the side door.

I focus on Amaros, who meets my gaze, and there’s an intensity in his eyes that frightens me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The following few weeks pass by quickly, and it feels as though a dark blanket has been lifted from the Kingdom, giving way to the beautiful and safe place it once was. Well, as safe as I remember it to be anyway.

Hethenos paid for what she did to my mother, to Harlum, me, and the Kingdom. Hell, for everything she did. The sacred golden fountain was repaired, and Finlay was back in the Kingdom after having his sentence reversed and his wings restored.

I haven’t seen him yet, and I think he feels ashamed to visit me after what he did, despite the fact that Hethenos was to blame. I want to forgive him. In fact, I already have. He just doesn’t know it yet. I plan to visit him soon to voice that to him and relieve him of the guilt he is no doubt carrying.

Harlum tasked Amaros to continue to watch over me instead of himself for now, despite my protests, and he refused to give me my guardian markings back to keep me trapped inside the Kingdom. Of course I can still leave through the Gateway of the Gods, but with Amaros watching me like a hawk, it’s been impossible so far. But I will find my moment.

Amaros has been avoiding any interaction with me as much as possible, which is probably for the best. A little difficult to do when he’s my guard, but he’s managing.

I rarely see Astelle these days, as she usually keeps to herself or stays inside her quarters. Her second has taken over her guardian role on Earth, as Astelle wasn’t up for it after everything that happened with her mother. I don’t blame her for Hethenos’s actions, but I do blame her for her own. I definitely don’t forgive her for stabbing me and trying to kill me, despite Harlum pardoning her for it.

I step out onto my balcony and breathe in the fresh winter air. The scent of damp leaves fills my nose as I release my wings and leap off. I swoop high into the sky where I have the best view of the snow-capped mountains in the distance, and I tell myself I will visit them one day soon.

Meadows of dew covered grass come into view up ahead as I glide down and land on the shingle next to the sacred golden fountain. It’s incredible. It looks as it always has, as if it were never smashed apart. A thought occurs to me, and I reach into my pocket and pull out the stone Alaron gave me. Moving it around in my hand, I sit on the edge of the fountain. Holding the stone against my hand with my thumb, I glide my fingers across the surface of the water.

A memory forms before my eyes. I take in a sharp breath as it slams into my mind. In the memory, I am young, maybe two years old. I’m in my mother’s quarters, and she’s crying and cuddling me, telling me she loves me. She places me down on my cot, and I reach out to her when she turns to face the door.

The door suddenly bursts open, and Hethenos, Harlum, and Amaros enter. Harlum looks much the same then as he does now, his white hair tied back in a bun, and he’s wearing black, red, and gold robes. Hethenos is wearing a long, fitted silver dress with a plunging neckline and black heels, and Amaros iswearing his usual guard leathers. My mother backs up to stand in front of my cot to protect me while her eyes dart between them.

“You,” Hethenos says, pointing at her. “I know what you’ve been up to. Conspiring behind your King’s back. Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”

“Harlum, you can’t believe this,” my mother says. “I have only ever wanted what’s best for the Kingdom and the angels who live here.”

“Lies!” Hethenos yells.

Amaros hovers near the door as if not wanting to engage, and I cry from within my cot.

“I would think long and hard before accusing others of lying, Hethenos, when you yourself do it on a daily basis. Now get out. You are scaring my child.”

My mother stands her ground, and I can just see how fierce a female she was.

Hethenos takes a few steps closer. “How dare you! You have always used your looks to get others to do your bidding, to side with you. But not this time. Harlum sees through your bullshit. We all do.”

Harlum reaches out to Hethenos. “Hold on, Hethenos. I never said I believed it. I’d like to hear it from Serona myself. I need to know if your accusations are founded before I pass judgement on my wife.”

Hethenos glares at him. “Do not forget I am your wife too, Harlum. In fact, you have said yourself multiple times I am your favourite.”

He clears his throat as my mother looks at him.

“Is this true? You have favourites now?”

Hethenos rolls her eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Serona.”

“I do not have favourites, and I never said as much. Hethenos, you need to back off,” Harlum instructs.

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