Page 66 of Wings of Torment
I head back to the chair I’d occupied before we were interrupted, grab the book I’d been reading, and plop my ass down. Zeke says nothing, but I feel his eyes on me a second longer before he grabs his own book again.
As time passes, so does the tension in my shoulders. Things seem almost normal, and I wonder if something has changed with Zeke or if it’s just because of the shitty, awful situation making this seem like a walk in the park. Then I become paranoid. The Ezekiel I know would have put me on the spot with questions and bullshit the moment that door closed, so why is he holding back?
I try to shove it all away and focus on the volume in my hand, reading one of the marked passages about demonic rituals and runes. It’s actually kind of fascinating how they draw symbols to enhance or promote certain aspects of themselves, and before long, I’m lost in the book, my prior troubles completely forgotten.
Because things don’t always go my way, Ezekiel breaks the silence. “Are things always like that with your brother?”
I don’t look up at him, choosing instead to stare at the current page of my book like it holds all the answers. “Like what?”
He’s not fooled in the slightest. “Right,” he says, clearly not buying my act. We shift back to silence again, but for some reason, it no longer feels comfortable. Part of me wants to answer him, if only to find out why he’s asking. If it were any other day, I’d assume he’s just going to make some snarky-ass remark like “Well that explains why you’re such an insufferable piece of shit,” but he’s been so strange today that I’m not sure anymore.
A few beats of silence pass again before the need to answer him wins out, and I sigh. “That was pretty much routine with Raduriel. It’s worse with my parents, though. I swear sometimes they look at me like I’m not even their child.”
“But why? From what I can tell, it’s not as if you’re a disappointment.”
For the first time since my brother left, I glance at Ezekiel. His words are full of conviction, but I can tell he’s confused. Is it possible he feels that way on my behalf? No. It can’t be. Not for the asshole I know.
I answer him bluntly, having had the answer to his question ingrained in me for years. “Ah, but I am. I’m nothim.”
Silence greets me as his mouth opens and closes before he finally says, “You know that guy he was with? Briathos?”
Now I’m the one confused. Where is he going with this? “Yeah,” I reply.
“When I was younger, he mentored with my father, and I hated his fucking guts. He’s all my dad ever talked about, and they spent more time together than Dad and I had in a long time. It felt like the only parent I had left was moving on. Finally, one day I just snapped and asked Dad point-blank if he’d rather Briathos was his son instead of me. He stared at me in silence for so long, I thought for sure he was about to say yes.”
My stomach drops when he pauses, and I sit here on pins and fucking needles, waiting for him to continue. “Well. Did he?”
Ezekiel smiles. “No. Turns out he had no clue how much it was affecting me because I’d just shut down and bury my emotions instead of talking about them. After I finally opened up to him about it, things changed.”
“That’s a nice story and all, but there’s one obvious difference. My parents actually do want a second Raduriel.”
The asshole has the nerve to fucking scoff. “So what if they do? Look, I know you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, and some of that is on me—”
A bark of laughter bubbles up from my throat as I raise an eyebrow at him.
To my surprise, he only smiles before conceding. “Fine. Most of it. But that comes from some pretty fucked-up experiences with Pures and not from you directly. If I’m honest, you actually seem pretty fucking decent compared to a lot of the other assholes I’ve dealt with before. If your parents can’t see that, then they don’t deserve your time or emotions. Don’t give them room to treat you like shit.”
“But they’re my family.”
“So what? That sure as fuck doesn’t give them the right to make you feel inferior or put conditions on their love for you. Even though you didn’t ask for it, here’s my advice. Talk to them. Your parents and your brother. Tell them that what they’re doing is shitty as fuck and you won’t stand for it anymore. If that doesn’t work, I’d say it’s high time you got rid of the shit in your life that doesn’t serve you.”
His words settle over me. Somehow, they actually fucking make sense. This has to be some alternate reality because shit. Am I seriously going to take advice from this guy? The idea of talking to my family about this is daunting, but Zeke might be right. A parent’s love should be unconditional. It shouldn’t be on me toearnthat love. They should give it freely and without question.
But what about my brother’s love? Should that also be unconditional? Things weren’t always so strained between us. When I was really young, he’d been my best friend. Something changed as I grew up and the more I think about it now, the more I realize just how badly I want to know why we grew apart.
Enough time has passed since Zeke last spoke that it feels awkward to say something now. Instead, I just catch his eye and nod before getting back to the book in my lap.
Who knew the biggest revelation from today would come from the grumpy Fallen house leader?
24
Water bubbles in the fountain as I walk by, heading toward the weaponry building to work off some of my pent-up energy.
Classes have barely started back up again, and already I’m restless. Every day we don’t head to that abandoned building is another day the bad guys have our weapons. It’s more time for them to plan exactly how they’re going to use them.
Even though I know there’s a perfectly good reason we’re waiting, it still feels like a waste of time.
Shit. I’m usually far more levelheaded than this.
