Page 10 of Touched By Darkness

“Fallen angels have black wings,” I whisper in response.

“But you’re not…”

My eyes skate up to hers. “Maybe I am?”

She shakes her head, and I snatch up the feather.

“What do you call this, Freya? You can’t deny what’s right in front of you.”

“You haven’t been gone.”

“I have!”

She maneuvers me around until I’m in front of her. Fingers sliding through my wings with frantic, rushed movements, her breath catches. I don’t need her to confirm the truth; I can sense it in her touch and hear it in the shaking lilt of her voice when she whispers, “Oh, my…”

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. This is the beginning of the end. I’m slowly turning into a fallen angel, and where I’m going, she can’t go. The thought of losing Freya splinters my heart. She’s my best friend and my family.

I don’t belong here anymore, though. My own light is draining. I can feel it slowly slip away as the darkness gains a stronghold over my senses.

When I turn to look at Freya, her eyes swim with tears. I know mine do, too.

“It’ll be okay,” I whisper.

Her head shakes, and she quickly wipes her cheeks. “No, it won’t.”

The students around us rise to their feet, and I’m worried in case they notice my black feathers. It’s only a matter of time.

“I need to go.” I hurriedly make my escape, feeling lost and confused. My wings are changing color, but the gates remain shut. Why? Eden won’t let me stay here with black wings, right?

Veering off the path, I venture into the forest. Birdsong guides my way closer to the gates. I find a large tree with thick branches and begin to climb, higher and higher, until I’m at the highest one, gazing out over the wall at the world beyond. There’s a longing inside me—an urge to disappear into the dark woods.

A grunt below has me almost falling off my branch, my heart galloping in my chest.

Oliver pops his head up and smiles at me. “You had to pick the tallest tree, didn’t you?”

With my mouth hanging open, I watch him heave himself up and settle on the nearest branch. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs one shoulder, resting his elbow on his knee, and gazes out over the dark storm clouds and the rolling mist. “I followed you.”

Staring at his profile, I splutter, “But why?”

“I don’t know.” His ocean eyes meet mine. “You intrigue me.”

When I say nothing, he continues, “I keep thinking about you.”

“I blow you one time and now you follow me around because you keep thinking about me?”

“Something like that.” He gestures with his hand to the woods on the other side of the gate. “That’s Hell?”

Dragging my eyes away from the muscles in his arm, I follow his line of sight. “It is.”

“What do you know of Hell?”

My throat bobs. I don’t take my eyes away from the lightning display as I whisper, “It’s a place of suffering. It’s also a place where you feel alive in a sense we don’t do here.”

“In what sense?”

“Out there, you get to experience the entire spectrum of colors. Here, in Heaven, we only know red.” Nudging my chin toward Hell, I stare directly at Oliver. “Out there, they know green, blue, orange, and purple.”

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