Page 83 of Wings of Betrayal

“Here,” he says, sliding a glass over to me.

Intricate markings cover his hand, some of them symbols.

“Most watchers have them. It gets boring around here.”

I nod and study the blue contents in my glass. “What is it?”

He puts the glass to his lips and drinks half of it in one go, then he burps. I cringe at the male and then decide bugger it and try it myself. It’s sweet and flows easily down my throat, sending a cooling sensation along with it.

“Mmm…” I say. “That’s not bad.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You are an interesting female. So what’s the story with your father, then?”

I bite my lip, deciding how much I want to open up to this male. I don’t know him, but there’s something about him that makes me feel I can trust him. Hell, he could’ve killed me by now, could’ve taken me to Zalore, but he hasn’t. I’m still trying to figure out why.

“I grew up thinking King Harlum was my father,” I start, and his eyes widen.

He rubs his chin. “Oh, hell.”

I take another sip of my drink, which thankfully calms my nerves. “He’s been murdered. I’m not sure if you heard about that.”

He nods. “I did. I’m sorry.”

“Well, when my mother was murdered, this male I seek showed up and took her away. And she talked about my father having green eyes in her journals. He matches the description, that’s all..”

As though sensing my uncertainty and sadness, he places his hand over mine, and I’m surprised at how sympathetic he seems. “Sorry to hear that.”

I twirl my glass on the wooden table and then take another sip, finishing it. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

He raises his hand, and the barman brings over two more of the delicious blue concoction.

“So you’ve seen him in here, then?” I ask once the barman leaves.

He nods. “I have seen a male who fits the description. He comes in here every so often. His name’s Atticus.”

Having him tell me his name reassures me. He wouldn’t know that any other way than from meeting him here or hearing him speak it himself. He’s telling the truth. I take a sip of my fresh drink, and he does the same.

“So, what’s it like living here?” I ask.

He snorts. “It’s shit. No females, just grumpy-ass males.”

I purse my lips. “Yeah, that sounds a bit shit, to be fair. But you can leave, right? Go down to Earth?”

He taps his fingers on the table and drinks his entire drink in one go. “I can, and I do. But human females are…fearful. We scare them with our size and looks.”

He shifts his gaze to mine, and it drops to my lips for a moment before he looks away again. The bell above the door dings, and I glance over just as a huge male steps into the bar. He has his hood up, so I can’t see his face. He crosses to the bar and orders a drink. He throws it back then lowers his hood and scans the bar before his green eyes lock onto mine.

Atticus.

He gets to his feet and stalks over to me, and the male beside me gives me a look as if to ask if it’s okay. I nod, and he shuffles out of the booth.

Atticus grabs my arm and hauls me across the bar and out a back door into yet another alleyway. I struggle beneath his grasp, but it’s no use.

His huge seven-foot frame towers over me as he stares at me with bright-green eyes. “Who are you?”

Gods above, he’s big. He looks just as he did that one awful night, sixteen years ago, when he appeared in my room and took my mother away. Like a god.

He raises his brows expectantly.

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