Page 110 of The War of Wings
Good thing the woman I loved could heal me. But even if she couldn’t, I’d break every Saints damned bone in my body if that’s what it took to get to her right now.
Obitus’ wingbeats slowed as he descended as low as he could. His wings skimmed the top of a building and he huffed, his descent coming to a stop. We were still too fucking high, but before I could talk myself out of it, I took a deep breath…and lept.
My arms and legs flailed as I careened through the air, my eyes set on that canvas awning. I tried to turn my body, but I’d undershot my jump andcrunch! I slammed into the side of the building, my right shoulder screaming as I tumbled the remainder of the way, finally catching the awning and rolling to the ground with athud.
Body. Break?Obitus’ words filtered into my head.
“Yep,” I ground out.
Petra. Heal.
I couldn’t respond as I gasped for breath and tried to blink the black spots from my vision. One of those black spots was Obitus’ retreating form, flying away. But there was only one thing on my mind: Petra. Blinding pain lanced through my shoulder, my lungs burning as I pushed to my feet. I was in front of a building half destroyed by fire, a few spots still smoldering.
FinallyI found her, and there was that man. “Hey!” I roared, prowling toward him. My body didn’t seem to respond when I demanded it to run, the black spots in my vision increasing innumber as the pain flared. That’s when I saw it — the blade in his hand.
Oh, I don’t fucking think so.
I tried to reach for my sword, but my shoulder wouldn’t let me. My fucking arm just hung uselessly at my side. With my left hand, I unsheathed my sword, the movement awkward and jerky. But I didn’t need much in the way of coordination to bring a sword down over a man’s head, even if — damn, he was taller than I thought he’d be. His eyes stayed down as he stood up, his face hidden in shadow.
“Get the fuck away from her!” I roared.
He scrambled backward, the blade in one hand at his side, his other palm raised in surrender. Still, his face was down, his features completely obscured by the shadows of the night. “She’s okay,” he said, his words rushed. “She’s fine. She just expended a lot of energy.”
My eyes fell on Petra’s sleeping form, laying against a sandstone building. Not one passerby paid her any mind. In fact, people actually stepped over her without even a single glance.
“I managed to drag her off the street and onto the sidewalk,” the stranger explained, his voice weak. “I was afraid to lift her and carry her to an alleyway in case I hurt her.”
My lip curled back at the stranger, but my eyes were on Petra. “Petra, love,” I murmured, running my palm over her face. I checked her hands, andfuck, what had happened? Her skin was mottled and scorched, a few areas of lighter skin webbing the angry red mess. There weren’t the telltale spots of blisters like usual. This was different.
I eyed the steel in the stranger’s grip. The sword had no hilt, and there was no way he could wield it without slicing into his own palm. Clumsily, I sheathed my own blade, then with a fortifying breath, I wriggled my left arm beneath Petra’s back. A grunt escaped my throat as I pulled her to me and rose to my feet. Shockwaves of burning pain ricocheted through my body,my mouth watering as bile rose in my throat. “Where is the alley?” I ground out to the stranger, the black spots threatening to take over my vision completely.
“This way.” He crossed the street, his head still hanging low as he slipped between the fire-damaged building and the one beside it.
I could hold Petra easily enough with one arm, but my right shoulder was protesting every movement.Fuck.“Get her head,” I demanded to the stranger as I began to lower her to the dirt.
He obeyed, one of his hands cradling the back of her skull as I set her body down as carefully as I could. “She’s okay,” he repeated, but it seemed to be more to himself than to me.
As I caught my breath, my eyes adjusted to the low light. Something stood just behind the stranger. A dummy? Yeah, a straw dummy, covered with jagged slash marks. I opened my mouth to ask who he was and how Petra ended up here, miles away from the Araqinan castle. But my entire brain stopped when I finally caught a look of his face.
“Ludovicus?” I asked, fury blooming hot and wild behind my chest. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He threw his hands up again, his head shaking violently. “I promise you, King Belin, I can explain.”
“You have ten seconds before I rip your fucking throat out,” I snarled.
“Cal?” a small voice whimpered from below me, and my entire world narrowed to the woman laying on the ground. I was at Petra’s side in an instant, the traitorous fuck and my dislocated shoulder forgotten when my eyes met hers.
“I’m here,” I whispered, stroking my hand over her hair. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she rasped. “I was there just now, with Katia and Rhedros. But the Occulti were swarming. I couldn’t speak to them.” Her hand moved to rest against my arm, and I couldn’t help but flinch as my shoulder tensed in response. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
Even in her half-conscious daze, she rolled her eyes, fumbling for the blade at her thigh. Before I could stop her, she dragged it across the marred skin of her palm and closed her hand over the back of mine.
“Thank you,” I murmured as I felt my shoulder shift back into place. I sucked in a deep breath for the first time since I’d jumped from Obitus’ back. After another moment, my eyes flashed to Ludovicus then back to Petra. “What happened?”
She blinked hard, reorienting herself for a moment before she sat up, her eyes wild. They landed on the blade in Ludovicus’ grip, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Her face was pure wonder, pure hope.
