Page 26 of Where Broken Wings Fly

Now it’s my turn to drop my gaze with each button that pops open, unveiling his bare chest that’s smattered with a carpet of light-blonde hair. Jesus. This guy has no shame.

Face schooled into a blank expression, he drags the shirt over his wide-set shoulders and wraps it around me instead. The woodsy scent of musk and fresh bonfires envelops me. Gripping the warm material, I slide my arms inside.

My cheeks flush hot as he buttons it up for me. His eyes are downturned to focus on his task, which gives me the perfect opportunity to check him out. I’m only human, and he looks like he was sculpted by the gods.

“Thank you,” I mutter, cheeks flaming.

“Don’t mention it. Give me your hand.”

Daring to place it in his awaiting palm, I grit my teeth again and manage to swivel to the side, setting my feet on the kitchen floor. It’s made from more planks of raw wood, polished to perfection with the odd blood splatter.

“On three,” he directs.

Counting down, he pulls my arms and helps me to stand at last. His shirt swamps my body, falling to mid-thigh and thankfully covering my panties. I clutch his hand tight as dizziness washes over me again, taking a few seconds to breathe.

“Still with me?”

“Yeah,” I force out. “Just dizzy. Where am I?”

“The kitchen.”

Apparently, he does have a sense of humour.

“I’m serious.”

“Briar Valley,” he says reluctantly.

“B-Briar Valley? Really? I made it?”

“You were looking for us then. Wanna tell me why? You’re actually trespassing on private land.”

Releasing my death grip on his hand, I take a tentative step alone. The pain has abated to a dull ache. I’m a pro at plastering on a fake smile and pretending to be alright. This is nothing in comparison to previous states I’ve woken up in.

“Take me to my daughter please.”

“She’s fine,” he growls with a little more fire. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“With all due respect, I don’t know you. I want to see her first, and then we can talk.”

When he tries to grab hold of me, I shudder and immediately back away. My tailbone collides with the kitchen counter. Freezing on the spot, he lets his hands fall.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’d prefer it if you kept your hands to yourself.”

Ignoring his quizzical expression, I drag my battered body from the kitchen and limp away from him as fast as my injuries will allow. Through the door, there’s a long hallway with ceilings that stretch up into the heavens leading deeper into the house.

It looks to be some kind of cabin, but it’s oozing with luxury. The walls and ceiling are made from more carved wood, supported by huge beams built into the ceiling and adjoining panels of tinted glass.

I’ve seen cabins on television, but they didn’t have any of these back home. This place doesn’t look like the off-grid, bare-bones structures depicted in movies. Light is pouring in from every direction, warming the comfortable space.

Limping onwards, I inch towards the front door at the end of the hallway. Other rooms branch off on both sides, but they’re empty and don’t hold my attention. All I can think about is setting sights on Arianna.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Footsteps follow hot on my heels.

“At least tell me your name.”

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