Page 105 of Tortured Soul
Why did the sight of his chest make me want to slide my tongue along every ridge?
“Go and help him out,” Arc said, giving a small slap on my ass. “I’ll clean up the mess you guys made.”
I opened my mouth to retort, to tell him that this particular touch was inappropriate, but he was already gone, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my confused thoughts.
Chapter 30
Lola
Ihad technically no idea where Carter’s room was. The only thing I had to find him was the faint memory of the rooms we passed when Arc was carrying me on his shoulders and I could feel Carter as we passed in front of a door.
The door I was now standing in front of, my fist up in the air, ready to knock. To be fair, it’d been ready for a good five minutes, but for some reason, my body was unresponsive.
I knew I should have followed my mind and gone straight to Arc’s room to lock myself in the bathroom and soak in a two hour long bath, ignoring my anxious heart.
Why was Carter still bleeding? He should have been healed by now. Divines were the fastest healing of all Immortals. Our fight wasn’tthatviolent, the wounds should’ve been fully closed in barely over five minutes.
And yet, when he walked in the kitchen to pick up something, there was something off. The bruises on his jaw and face were gone, but his back was still bleeding.His wings.
And, for some reason, it didn’t sit well with me.
I gritted my teeth, tightening my fist until my nails dug into my palms.
Come on! Knock, you stubborn, useless thing, the voice in my head said.
My knuckles hit the hard wood three consecutive times, and my heart made a strange loop in my chest.
But no one answered.
I groaned, knocking again.
“Come on, I know you’re in there,” I said. “Open up.”
“Get lost.”
I fought the urge to insult him and burst through the door to punch his face again.
His voice sounded far away, so I tried pushing down on the handle, muffling a gasp as it opened, allowing me to open it further while staying outside.
The room was large and dimly lit. The huge four poster bed on a platform at the center was modern yet a bit whimsical, a white sheer fabric draped over the frame and hanging on the sides.
I stepped inside, looking for Carter, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Walking slowly through the room, I inspected his space. It felt weird invading it, like I was somehow glimpsing through a part of his mind that was a well kept secret.
Unlike him, his room was tidy and warm. Inviting. There was a sitting area next to a few corner bookshelves, the cream couches covered with soft plaid blankets, and the armchair still had an open book on the armrest.
I reached a desk sitting in front of the large window. Outside was probably the back garden of the house, a place I hadn’t even seen yet. This area was the only spot where things didn’t seem meticulously tidy, resembling more of a chaos of papers, notes and…sketches.
Some were pinned to the wall, depicting people or places. Flowers, landscapes, everyday scenes and objects. But it was a large leather binder that was tugging at me, calling for me to open it and peek inside. My fingers grazed the cover, feeling the soft texture reverently, taking their time before opening it.
I gasped, my throat suddenly dry at the picture in front of me.
An angel, wings broken and down behind her, kneeling on the floor, her hands hiding her face as shadows and despair surrounded her.
I turned the page, my heart beating hard in my chest.
Another Divine stood, his wings spread, but his body contorted in pain as he was holding his face and grasping his hair in agony, fingers pointing at him from every direction.
