Page 2 of Wings of Betrayal

Mikel holds the door open for me, and I retract my wings before stepping into the dimly lit space. I glance around before spotting Harlum sitting in a booth near the back wall.

The place holds an ominous vibe to it, but it’s fitting, given the circumstances. Framed images of various angels dot the walls where the wallpaper is peeling away from the edges in places. Red wine stains the floor from drunken nights, several stools appear to be broken, and the place needs a serious revamp.

Harlum looks up and raises his brows in greeting. I slowly cross the room and slide in opposite him, the leather fabric flexing beneath my weight.

“Zarla, thanks for meeting me,” he says before his gaze falls to his hands, where he clasps them together on the table.

I roll my eyes. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”

He rubs his thumbs over one another. “I know you aren’t happy with me. About my decisions. And I’m sorry. My plan was never to trap you here or to restrict your movements.”

I let out a long breath, my patience growing thin. If he brought me here to lie to me some more, I will not sit here and listen to it. I move to the edge of the booth, about to get up, when he reaches out to me.

“Please don’t go,” he pleads, his hand outstretched across the table as if that can stop me.

I reluctantly turn to him. “I will not listen to more lies, so if that’s what you asked me here for?—”

“I didn’t,” he assures me. “I asked you to come because I want to apologise. For everything. I should never have removed your markings, and I want to return them to you. You earned them.”

I meet his gaze and can see he’s being genuine. I fold my arms over my chest and wait, allowing him to continue.

He runs a hand over his face. “I was only trying to protect you, but I can see now that it was wrong. Here.” He reaches both hands out to me.

I slowly place my hands on the table, and he takes them in his before closing his eyes. Deep concentration settles over his features.

A familiar burning sensation creeps up my arms, and I suck in a sharp breath. My guardian markings wind their way up my wrists, forearms, and upper arms, just as they did the first time I got them. Once it’s done, he releases me. I swallow hard as a tear slides down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Thank you,” I say and then scoot out of the booth and leap to my feet.

“Zarla,” he calls out, and I pause, looking back at him. “Be careful, okay?”

There’s a hollow, almost empty look in his eyes, as if he knows something I don’t. But I don’t have time to wait around and find out. There’s somewhere I need to be, like, yesterday.

I burst out of the bar, releasing my wings as I take off into the sky faster than ever before. For the first time in weeks, I feel something outside of the sadness and loneliness spectrum. It’s been so long, I’m almost unfamiliar with the feeling.

A smile tugs at my lips as I shoot through the sky and descend into the clearing in the Dark Forest. The Gateway glows in its usual subtle way, but the surprising thing is there’s no one guarding it. Amaros is nowhere to be seen.

I land with a thud, visualising the one and only place where I want to be right now, and leap through the gateway. The free-falling effect doesn’t startle me this time. Instead, it electrifies something inside me, my body knowing it’s about to get what it’s been craving for the last few weeks.

I land in Zarquon at the edge of the forest near the beach, and the moonlight illuminates the surface of the water as the waves gently lap the shoreline. The salty air hits my nose, and I breathe it in deep as a wave of pure happiness washes over me.

Releasing my wings, I fly toward Kyle’s castle and land outside the main entrance. As if sensing me coming, Kyle appears in the doorway, and we stare at one another to be sure this is real.

Gods above, he’s handsome. He brushes his tousled hair off his forehead, appearing as if he’s just woken, and he’s shirtless, his tanned skin showcasing his toned body.

“Zarla?” he breathes.

I run into his arms, and he lifts me up as our lips crash in a frenzy unlike anything I’ve experienced before. He holds me firmly against him while I trail my hands up his back and into his hair, our tongues tasting and exploring each other.

And wow. He tastes so damn good. I pull back, breathing hard, and we stare into each other’s eyes, taking in this moment in case it’s nothing more than a beautiful dream that I’m about to wake up from.

“How are you here?” he asks, searching my eyes for answers as he sets me back down.

He seems almost taller somehow, and I feel even safer in his arms.

“My fa—Harlum—gave me my guardian markings back. He let me leave Silanthia.”

He tenses. “He kept you from leaving?”

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