Page 64 of Wings of Valor
Back and forth, I wrestle to wake fully, not really wanting to. If I’m awake, I’ll feel their torture, but if I remain in this state, they might harm Hayliel’s parents, and I can’t allow that.
Even on the cusp of what feels like death, I’d still do anything for her.
On my next bout of awareness, I listen. There’s a low humming noise that wasn’t there before. A rhythmic beeping that would probably annoy me if it were any louder. Have they moved me to a different cell? Beneath my fingers, I feel soft cotton and plush bedding.
Is this another of their tactics? Offer me niceties and hope I’ll turn on my friends? If it is, I suppose I could enjoy it.
But no, it doesn’t feel like their play.
I wonder for a moment if Hayliel saved me. Saved her parents like I tried, and failed, to do. But that would mean she ran straight into danger. Who am I kidding? She’d absolutely do that. Hell, that was her plan all along, wasn’t it? To trade herself in order to protect her parents and everyone else. Of course she’d put herself in harm’s way to save us.
Slowly, I crack my eyes open and immediately slam them shut. Bright lights blind me, their ghostly forms dancing behind my lids.
I hear the door click open, and a minute later, the room plunges into darkness.
“There. That should help your eyes adjust,” someone says.
Shit. They know I’m awake. I guess my plan to feign sleep is dead.
Opening my eyes, I find a man standing at the end of my bed. He’s wearing an unbuttoned white lab coat over a simple collared shirt and is looking over a stack of papers. I shift, testing my body, and instantly regret it. An ache races across my shoulder, making me hiss.
“I’m glad to see you’re awake, Ezekiel. Your friends will be very happy.”
“My friends?” I ask, voice hoarse. Is this another trick? Have they caught them, too?
“I’m not surprised you don’t remember. There was a rescue mission, and they brought you here, to the Sanctuary. Camael and Maribella are safe, and now you are, too. You’ve been resting for quite some time. I’ll admit, the reattaching of your lost limb isn’t something I’ve heard of before, so I’m glad you’ve finally woken up.”
Safe. They’re safe. Wait. “Lost limb?”
The healer nods. “Your left wing. I’m told it was cut off with an angel blade.”
My mind reels, and like a dam breaking, reality floods in. I remember. Auriel’s torture. Plucking my feathers over and over again while demanding I tell him how to get to Hayliel. Then, when that didn’t work, he pulled an angel blade and spent an hour sawing my wing off. He didn’t need that long. He just wanted me to suffer.
“Here, have some water,” he says, handing me a glass. “We’ll continue with the serum that keeps your wings trapped beneath your flesh for another day or so, to promote the healing as much as possible. As soon as that’s worn off, we’ll begin the process of therapy to guide you through what your life will look like going forward.”
That’s what he doesn’t understand. I’m not discouraged, not really. Am I happy that I’ve lost a wing? Fuck, no. But I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if it went any other way. I would gladly lose both wings and have to live life with the humans if it meant Hayliel was safe. She’s worth far more to me than wings.
“Camael and Maribella are unharmed, truly?” I ask, still not convinced this isn’t some mind-fuck orchestrated by Auriel. It’s why I don’t ask about Hayliel. Not yet. Not until I know doing so won’t put her in danger.
“They’re good as new, though I have them on a weekly therapy session to work through their trauma. Sorry to ruin the surprise, but you’ll be doing the same once you’re better.”
Part of me wants to tell him I don’t need therapy, but I hold back. Maybe I do.
“I won’t lie to you, Ezekiel. The journey will be long, but we’re truly dealing with a miracle here, so don’t get discouraged,” the healer goes on, confusing me.
“Miracle?”
“Unless you have another word to describe the rejoining of a limb previously severed by an angel blade, I’d say miracle is precisely accurate.”
A game. That’s what this is. Auriel is trying to confuse me—his next tactic in his crusade to get to Hayliel. But I won’t fall for it, regardless of what he takes from me.
The sound of hushed voices grows louder outside the door. I struggle to listen past the low hum of the machines in here, needing to know if it’s friend or foe, but all I can hear is the rushing of blood through my veins and the pounding of my heart.
This is it.
I’m about to find out if this is real or just a game to wear me down.
Then, like the sweetest symphony. I hear it.
