Page 5 of Wings of Death

I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “She told me I wasn’t ready, that my powers are too strong, and they’ll come when I’m ready for them.”

Demetros runs a hand through his thick brown locks. “Wow. That’s pretty crazy.”

It’s more than crazy, and I’m already questioning whether I just imagined it. Sure, gods exist. They forged the Kingdoms. They’re an obvious part of our history. But are they still around, in some form or another? The idea makes more sense than it should, especially after what I just experienced. Maybe they are still around, watching over us.

“Have either of you ever heard of this happening before?” I ask.

“No, never,” Lacinda says.

Demetros shoves his hands into his pockets. “No. You’d think they would’ve taught it at the academy. In fact, they didn’t really tell us much about the gods at all.” He pauses for a moment before shrugging. “Well, at least you know you will get your powers, right? Eventually, anyway.”

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I try to hide my disappointment. “Let’s head back.”

After telling them I left something back in the arena, I make my way across the field, crunching over autumn leaves. I’m still trying to make sense of what I saw back in the forest, but it’s like trying to hold on to a dream, and with each passing moment, it fades further. If that really was a goddess, why would she come to me? None of it makes much sense.

I pull open the door to the academy and am barely inside when I hear footsteps approaching from behind. I turn to see Finlay and stop in my tracks.

“What is it?” I question.

He holds his hands up in surrender, a genuine smile showing off his perfectly white teeth. “I come in peace, I swear.”

I roll my eyes and carry on down the corridor toward the arena, and he jogs to catch up to me, falling into step at my side. What is it with this male? Maybe he has a split personality or something.

“So, what are you doing back in here? Classes are done for the day. Oh, hang on. Let me guess. You’re going to practice your sparring skills?”

I side-eye him and don’t respond as I continue walking.

“Am I right?”

I pause, turning to face him and let out a sigh. “What do you want, Finlay?”

He shuffles somewhat awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Nothing. I’m sorry for being such a dick. I don’t mean to be that way.”

I arch a brow at him, waiting for him to finish or get to the point. I don’t believe a word he’s saying. Finlay thrives on being a dick, not just to me, but to every other angel in this academy. But mostly to me and my friends. I always wondered if it was because I was to become a guardian and he was jealous of that.

It’s something we’re born with. White wings if we are to be a guardian, and silver if we are to be a second, or a backup guardian. Our birth line seems to play a part in it, but for the most part, it’s just the natural balance within the Kingdom as to what you are born to be.

He tugs on the straps of his backpack. “I just thought we could hang out. That’s all.”

I grimace at his words and roll my eyes before walking away. He has never shown any interest in being friends, so why now? There has to be some underlying motive at play, and I’m not in the mood to find out.

“No, wait!” he calls as he jogs to my side. “I’m serious. We’ve never really hung out before.”

A laugh escapes my lips. “Because you’re an asshole. Not just to me, but to everyone.”

He places a hand across his chest. “Ouch. So direct.”

What’s his deal? I stop at the arena entrance, bracing my hand against the doorframe. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but I’m not interested.”

He bites his bottom lip as he casts his gaze away, shaking his head. “You know, you are a bitch,” he says before he storms off.

I throw my hands up in the air, not surprised one bit. Well, at least I’m right about him; he is an asshole. I so don’t have time for males like that, or their stupid games.

As I enter the arena, I’m thankful it’s still open and empty. I drop my bag next to the fighting mat I fought Astelle on earlier. My sparring skills need work, as well as my strength. Both are pretty crucial to being a guardian.

The arena is a small version of an indoor stadium, with thousands of seats spread around the sides, staggered up to the top row. There are six fighting mats spaced around the floor, with an inbuilt gym along the right-hand side for strength training. I haven’t spent much time here, as they expect us to train outside of classes in our own time, but it hasn’t really appealed to me. Mainly because I don’t know what the heck I’m doing.

Demetros offered to show me a few things, but we never got around to it. I decide to try the gym first, thankful to be alone. There won’t be an audience to watch me embarrass myself. I spend the next hour lifting weights, working on my core strength and my balance. By the time I’m done, I’m a sweaty mess.

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