Page 7 of Wings of Death

His lips curl up at the sides. “She strapped them to her thighs, just like that.”

I can almost picture it—my mother with her daggers strapped to her thighs. Having them strapped to mine gives me a sense of comfort, as if she’s here with me. “Thank you. This means everything to me.”

He gently nods and ushers me toward the door. “You must be cautious, Zarla. I suspect your powers may mirror those of your mother’s. Her powers overcame her at times, but she learned to control them. You must be careful.”

As I wind my way back through the academy hallways, the Master’s words echo through my mind. I can’t help the fear that seeps in as I imagine the powers I will soon have. My mother’s daggers press against my thighs as I walk and somehow send warmth through my body, as if they are telling me they will protect me.

It’s a strange but welcoming sensation. It helps me feel closer to my mother somehow. When I reach the entrance to theacademy, I step outside and release my wings before lifting up into the air. I remember being afraid to fly, but now it feels like second nature to me, as easy as breathing or walking. It brings a sense of calm that, ironically, helps ground me.

The wind catches my wings and carries me high above the Kingdom as I fly toward my family castle. The entire Kingdom is visible from up here. Well, most of it at least, including the Dark Forest, somewhere I have only visited a few times. There is something about that forest that has always called to me, and leaves me curious to explore it further.

The houses below appear tiny while the many manors stand proud. My family’s castle is clearly visible, nestled out of the city near a winding river. Demetros’s manor is nearby, his family having been close family friends of ours since before I was born.

There are about two dozen other manors placed within a gated area outside the perimeter of our castle, around the outskirts of the city. It’s where the other high-level angel families live, and I have the most gorgeous view of it from up here. I close my eyes as I gently glide down, allowing the wind to carry me where I need to go. The castle comes into view as I descend, showing off the beautiful architecture of the building. It has been around for longer than anyone can remember.

As I approach, I spot Amaros, Yimel, Rimel, and Mikel, my father’s guards, hovering in the courtyard. Rimel and Yimel are redheaded twins and are both enormous angels. They have always made me feel uncomfortable, and Amaros has noticed and makes sure they are never too close. Mikel has always been kind to me, and I enjoy his company. He was the one to teach me to fly when my father was too busy.

Amaros doesn’t like when I approach the castle this way. He expects angels to fly in and land outside the castle boundary, but I’m the King’s daughter, so there isn’t much they can or will do about it. I land with a soft thud on the limestone shingles outsidethe main entrance doors. Mikel sends me a wink as Amaros strides toward me.

“Zarla,” he greets me with a gentle nod, “I thought we had a discussion on proper entrance into the castle?”

I can sense his frustration and see it in his strained features. As my wings disappear into my back, I press my lips together to hide my smirk. “I don’t see the issue with it. Never have.”

He scans my face. “It’s only for your protection.”

His focus drops to my thighs and lands on my mother’s daggers, his eyes widening for a moment before settling back into their usual composure. Does he recognise them?

“The Master gave them to me,” I explain, reaching down and touching one of them.

He awkwardly clears his throat. “They suit you. I am sure your mother would be happy for you to have them.”

A familiar ache grows in my chest, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Something inside tells me to be quiet about the fact that my mother specifically left them to me. I shoot him a forced smile and head into the castle. My father’s guards can be incredibly overpowering, and it’s exhausting. I have enough on my plate right now. I don’t need another argument about how I enter my home.

When I reach my quarters, I close the doors and lean against the cool wood, letting the air woosh out of my lungs. I need to get it together. When I was only two years old, an angel from our enemy's Kingdom, Zarquon, murdered my mother. I barely remember her at all, but every time she’s mentioned in conversation, it causes an ache in my chest that’s difficult to bear.

I miss her more than words can describe, so to have something of hers is almost a release in my chest, easing some of the pain. I take one of the daggers from my straps, studying the stones embedded in the handle. It’s stunning, and I feel afamiliar warmth sweeping over me as I hold it. As I study the details, the stones glow red and green, and my eyes widen.

The colours surge out of the dagger in streams before circling around me and flowing into my chest. I instantly feel their power inside my body, and I know this power is now my own. Instinctively, I somehow know it’s a healing power. I take the dagger, and without hesitation, I gently glide the blade across my palm.

Blood oozes from the cut, but then it heals before my eyes. The skin knits together, and there’s nothing left but blood. I rush into my bathroom and grab a cloth, then wipe the blood away, and my breath catches. There’s nothing there, not even a mark where I cut my hand. My lip, too, has healed from my fight with Astelle earlier.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, and I swear my green eyes are glowing a little. I have finally unleashed one of my powers.

The power to heal.

CHAPTER THREE

I’m surprised I don’t notice it right away. The sacred golden fountain sits centre stage, crystal clear water spouting out of the top where a beautiful golden angel stands, her wings stretched wide. My gaze finds my father’s, and he smiles. I feel his strength radiating through my body, helping calm my nerves. I love how he can do that, and I am excited to discover more of my own powers, whatever they may be.

“I want the power of strength,” Demetros says.

I turn to him with a smirk. “Of course you do.”

“Hey, what’s so funny about that?” he questions as he takes another sip of the magical red liquid inside his glass.

I cover my mouth and laugh. “That is such a typical male thing to say, to want strength.”

He crosses his arms. “Okay, so what power is it that Zarla Quinn would like to harness, then?”

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