Page 53 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

His eyes flashed with heat, but it wasn’t anger. Under his stare, I felt even more naked than I was with one of my breasts fully exposed, the paint having been licked off my nipple by the king.

The room stilled under Voron’s glare. The laughter stopped entirely. His voice remained low, but in complete silence, it sounded like rolling thunder.

“Had it beenmylips that smeared the paint on your skin, you’d be too breathless to speak, bold little bird. You’d be too busy moaning and screaming my name right now.”

I’d expected anything but that. Threats, mockery, insults. I was prepared for all of them. But this… This…

His words knocked the air out of my lungs. A part of me—an obviously insane, uncontrollable part—wished it were just like he’d said, thathislips were dusted with the gold from my breast, that it’d been Voron who’d sucked, licked, and nibbled on my body. Everywhere.

Suddenly, it felt as if everyone in the room was gone. I forgot whose lap I was sitting on. It was just me and the man across the room, his steel gaze bridging the space to link with mine.

His lips moved again. “You have no idea what you’re trying to start here, poor clueless Sparrow. You can’t even fathom the devastation that you court.”

The pity and regret in his eyes burned worse than any insults, rendering me speechless.

Lord Petuh appeared out of nowhere, pressing a glass of dark-gold wine into my hand.

“A toast,” he announced, lifting a similar glass of his own. “To the king’s delightful new acquisition. To the witty, little Sparrow!”

The dinner guests toasted, drinking their wine and other liquors, chasing away the lingering sense of unease that hovered over the room in the wake of Voron’s words.

The king lifted his glass. With mirth twinkling in his sunny blue eyes, he tapped on the bottom of mine, urging me to drink.

And like a trusting fool, I did. I drank the wine. It was sweeter and richer in taste than the one we had before. The sparkling liquid prickled my tongue with flavors of overripe apples and honeyed apricots before sliding down my throat.

The cloying taste of the wine seemed to stick to everything it touched inside me. My mouth, my throat, even the lining of my stomach appeared to have a thick, gooey residue from it. No matter how many times I swallowed or licked my lips, it lingered.

The sweet tentacles of intoxication reached into my brain, permeating my mind. The room swam, awash in a champagne-colored glow. The faces of people floated like bubbles in a wine glass, making me giggle. The closest one to me, the king’s face, stretched and constricted in a most hilarious fashion.

“How are you feeling, my baby chick?” The king sounded delighted.

Everything around me suddenly looked much brighter, bigger, and lighter.

I felt lighter, too.

“Weird… So weird,” I muttered, grinning widely.

The bubble-faces appeared to float up. Did the people fly up to the ceiling? Or did just their heads fly up? The thought of floating balloon heads made me laugh uncontrollably.

“Oh, I want to fly, my king!” I tossed my hands up in the air, waving my arms like wings. Brown and gray feathers sprung from my skin, sprouting all over my arms. “I have wings!” I yelled, leaping off the king’s lap. “I’m a sparrow. A bird. I can fly.”

I climbed onto the table to get higher to the ceiling. I jumped but couldn’t take off. The clothes weighed me down, so I tore at the silk scarves that served as the bodice of my dress. I ripped them off, tossing the flowy scraps of material back at the king, who was rolling with laughter in his chair.

People were hooting, guffawing, and cheering me on. The noise fueled me with energy.

“I will fly,” I assured them, yanking at the layers of my skirts. Their material might be light, but like a spider web, it trapped me, keeping me on the ground. “I’ll fly, you’ll see.”

I ripped my skirts off. The last thing I was still wearing, the gilded under-bust corset, proved much more difficult to take off. I tangled in the pink ribbons that laced it.

“You just wait…” I mumbled to all those laughing while I tugged at the ties. “You’ll all see… I’ll show you.”

A hand reached up to me. “Come here, Sparrow.”

“I’m not done yet!” I swatted the hand away. “This stupid ribbon…”

“Oh yes, you’re done.” Voron grabbed me around my waist and yanked me off the table. “Time to land, little bird.” He heaved me up into his arms. “No more flying.”

“But I didn’t even make a turn around the room!” I protested, fighting against his hold. “You’re such a party pooper! Just because you can’t fly yourself, Wingless Crow, doesn’t mean all of us have to sit on the ground with you.”

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