Page 51 of Beyond the Storm
The others then took turns introducing themselves and telling me about the location. They mentioned daily training and why we’d been gathered. Angels? A curse in our blood that made us powerful? It was a lot to absorb at once.
The one named Gradyn plopped down beside me on the mat. “I understand if you’re scared or confused. Being here makes me really sad sometimes. I miss my father.” Instantly, his brown eyes welled with tears. He wiped at them. “I apologize. I tried to smile and not be sad, but all of a sudden, my heart hurts.”
Remembering what the winged man said about sensing a wave of sadness radiating from me and adding it to what I learned from them about each of us possessing a powerful curse, I concluded I was more than likely the reason Gradyn was overcome with sadness.
“I believe I’m to blame for your tears,” I whispered.
“Why? The curse inside me makes me sleepy. Does yours make people sad?” Gradyn yawned. “Oh no. It’s got me again.”
Steps came from the corridor, heavier than that of a boy. Was it the winged man? The boys had called him Lazarus. He came around the corner and stepped into the room, his expression hard.
“All of you, back to your beds.”
Gradyn rubbed at his eyes. “Do we have to?”
“Yes,” Lazarus said in a clipped tone. “You did not have permission to leave your rooms to begin with.”
Daman pushed away from the wall and walked past Lazarus without a word. Bellamy followed him, quickening his steps to catch up. Galen stood back and waited for the others to leave. His stormy eyes never left the angel. It was as though he were protecting the other boys, making sure they all returned to their rooms before going to his own.
Then, it was only me and Lazarus. Where the other boys held feelings of fear and resentment toward him, I wasn’t yet sure how I felt about him.
“They have told you why you’re here?” he asked.
I nodded. “Because of our fathers. Our blood makes us strong.”
“Correct.” His blue-eyed gaze shifted to the window. “There is one more boy left to retrieve. Then we can fully begin your training.”
“This place won’t be much different than my home, will it? A group of boys who will be trained for war.”
“There are similarities, yes. You will be trained hard and with little compassion.” Lazarus’ eyes returned to me. “Yet, much will be different as well. The boys you just met will not cast you out or behave cruelly toward you. They will become your brothers.”
I thought on his words. “So the only cruel one will be you?”
He studied me, much like I studied him. “I will be what I must to ensure you become strong enough to withstand the storm waiting on the horizon. Not only strong in body but also in your mind and soul.”
“I have not a soul.” I lifted a hand to my chest. For a moment, I thought I’d felt it ache. But the feeling passed. Maybe it hadn’t been there at all.
“All living things have a soul,” Lazarus said in a softer tone. “Even the most wicked beings among us possess one.”
“Was my father wicked? Will I be the same?”
Icy eyes held me captive. “Your father betrayed the celestial realm, along with the other defectors. Bringing all of you here will hopefully prevent you from walking down that same destructive path.” He slowly exhaled. “But do I believe you’re wicked? It is too soon for me to say. What Idobelieve? You’re a child who has known nothing but rejection and loneliness. It is something that bonds you with the other boys. They share in that loneliness.”
I recalled their faces. And as I brought each one to mind, that ache I only thought I’d felt earlier returned. A bond.
“When will you bring the other boy?”
“Soon,” he answered. “He is well guarded as of now.”
Guarded? Was the boy a prisoner somewhere?
“That is enough talking for tonight. Morning comes early, and we have much to do.” Lazarus stepped toward the door and placed a hand on the handle. He started to pull it closed as he left the room.
“Lazarus?”
He paused and turned back to me. “Yes?”
“I owe you my gratitude.”
