Chapter 34 - Wings of Lies

The further we walked into The Divide, the thicker the trees became.

“Think if I threw a stick at the princeling, he’d explode?” Oliver leaned over to whisper to me.

I held back my laughter. “Please don’t. We’ve come this far with no incidents.”

Before we were deep in the Damatha Forest, Oliver found some interesting green fruit that he swore was edible. He didn’t want to hunt and leave me with Aspen, so it would have to do. I finished the large, sour morsel before the thick canopy swallowed the sunlight and the trees became car sized.

“Think I could eat those blue mushrooms?” I asked, still hungry.

Oliver laughed. “Yeah, that’s a great idea if you want to turn into a glow-bug or die.”

Aspen scoffed like we needed our brains reevaluated when actually we needed more food and for our lives to be simpler and not the object of everyone’s malicious desires.

A slight twitch hit the corner of my lips as we passed a batch of Celestrus. They lit up one after another like a runway guiding us to the darkness ahead. Distracted by the strange beauties, I ran right into Aspen. I jerked back, not wanting to touch him, and backed into Oliver.

“Why’d we—” I started to say until Oliver covered my mouth. Shooting him a glare, I noticed his face had paled. Confused, I side-stepped Aspen and stopped.

It was so much worse than I could’ve imagined.

The dilapidated cottage crawled with browned vines and fog. Pikes were placed in a ring around the cottage with skulls of animals and humans in different states of decomposition.

“What’d I tell ya? Ms. Decapitator,” Oliver mumbled, eyeing the skeletons with wariness.

Aspen’s jaw bounced in time with the flicker under his chin. “Uncuff me.”

“No,” Oliver and I said in unison.

“If we go in there, and it goes to hell, who will help us escape?” By his tone, it sounded like he already had an answer. So arrogant.

“Oliver’s got enough juice to take down a witch. Right, Oliver?”

I peered back at him. He nodded, but his scrunched, pained look did nothing for my nerves. Turning back to Aspen, I hoped he didn’t see. The last thing I needed was some posturing fight over powers and strength. But as I watched a piece of left-over flesh plop to the ground from a freshly spiked skull and smelled the rancid scent that a swarm of flies flew to, I prayed I wasn’t making some mistake.

Staring at his chains, I contemplated. Would it be so bad? Maybe… I shook my head, snorting at my asinine thoughts.

“We can’t un-cuff you. The moment we do, I’ll just be fodder for your queen. Oliver and good old-fashioned wit will have to be enough.”

“You’ll be fodder if you go in there, as weak and useless as you are.”

I whipped around, eyes wild. So many hurtful words sat on the tip of my tongue, ready to explode in his black-runed face. I had to remember this wasn’t him. But it was hard when our relationship, or whatever you’d call it, was fragile to begin with.

I stormed toward the skin-crawling cottage like I had a death wish, hearing Oliver at my back.

“I’d be careful what you say to her, princeling. Because if that rune ever comes off, you’ll be one sorry bastard when you wake up.” His tone held an unmistakable threat.

Before I got to the first wooden step, Aspen jerked me back with jangling chains, stepping in front. If we weren’t about to be on the porch of a flesh-eating witch, I would’ve shoved him off. I didn’t need his protection. It was only a guise for the need to keep me whole for his queen. Even if part of him wanted to keep me safe, he remained loyal to her.

We stepped onto the decaying threshold, the boards creaking with the shift of our weight. Aspen lifted his hand to knock, and the door swung open before his knuckles could touch, but the doorway appeared empty.

“This is starting off like every horror movie ever, and we’re the stupid people walking into the haunted witch house when we all know we’re going to die.”

I shot Oliver a pointed look that said, shut the hell up.

He shrugged, mouthing, “It’s the truth.”

The smallest, most infinitesimal part of me had the urge to step closer to Aspen, but I dug that traitorous bit a grave. Although, I wasn’t enjoying the tension in his shoulders or the sound of scavenging flesh flies.

“Darlings, don’t worry, I only kill when there isn’t a fair exchange,” a pleasant voice called out. “Please, enter, and tell Magda what you wish to know.”

Aspen scoffed. “Don’t die.” Then, as a shot of overwhelming worry hit me, he added a strangled, “Please.”

I couldn’t help but stare at his back as the Aspen I cared for peeked through. I needed to find a way for him to stay.

He moved through the door, Oliver and I at his heels. Once through the threshold, my face went slack.

I glanced at Oliver, who surveyed the small cottage with a similar surprised expression.

“Wow, it’s pretty nice in here,” he said, admiring the living room.

There were no dilapidated moldy boards to be found. The oldest thing in the cottage were the trinkets and gems lining shelves near a well-crafted fireplace. Even then, they were well-kept. Although, they stood apart from the rest of the interior. The rest appeared to be straight out of an interior design magazine.

Light feminine laughter pealed to our side. “The skulls and decaying wood help to keep the riffraff away.”

The voice belonged to a sensual female. She stood in her pristine kitchen under a ceiling decorated with herbs. She looked young, which meant nothing in Elora. But by the surprise on Oliver’s face, we were both expecting an old hag. Not a female with long golden hair in a tight ice-blue dress with no warts, moles, wrinkles, or scars to be seen on her skinny frame.

From the sneer lifting Aspen’s lips, I think he was the only one unaffected by the unexpected appearance.

Magda smiled at his sour expression. “I’m surprised to have you back, prince, after the last time.” Her eyes flicked to me and back to his glare.

I shot him a side glance. “This is the witch that told you⁠—”

“That the female I’d have a guardian bond with would destroy my world.”

“What?” He never mentioned that part in all his slivers.

Magda smiled, delighted by his answer and my shock.

“Figured you wouldn’t want to know that part. But I no longer care. Soon, it won’t matter.”

It’s not Aspen talking. It’s the rune.

Magda laughed, enjoying our tension. “Well then, take a seat. Rest. Let me hear your questions.” Keeping her smile, she gestured to the cushioned chairs by her fireplace. “Would anyone like tea? Or apples?” she asked, like a doting host.

Oliver shot me a questioning glance, and we both sat across from each other. I shrugged, wincing at the movement. We were both hungry. But was her food safe? I eyed Aspen, who stood behind me, his narrowed gaze all for Magda.

“They’re not poisoned, just your average apples. And, sweetness, I have a tea to help soothe whatever ails you,” she added, bustling around in her spotless white kitchen.

I guess not much got by her.

Oliver shrugged and nodded. “We’ll have apples, and she’ll take the tea. The princeling…” he glanced at Aspen, who continued to glare. “He doesn’t matter.”

Her silky dress swayed back and forth as her dainty hand released two apples into Oliver’s lap. He handed me one. Not correcting Oliver, Aspen took nothing, hands more occupied with digging into my chair.

“So,” Magda handed me a painted teacup and gracefully sat beside Oliver. “This is how I work. You ask a question, I’ll give you a price for the information, and you accept, or you leave.”

I let the steam of lavender and herbs hit my nose and took a sip. Its warmth spread into my skin and bones, soothing and mending. The relief eased my tension, making me wonder why everyone considered her dangerous. The witch was helpful, gorgeous, seemingly kind, and had a home most people would die for, at least in the interior.

“Okay, I guess I’ll start,” I said between sips.

Magda waved to my cup. “Please, finish. It’s best to drink the tincture all in one sitting to receive the full benefits. We will wait.” She smiled, gentle and encouraging. Any apprehension I had left slipped away.

They all waited patiently for me. Oliver’s obscene crunching and my twitching feet hitting the leg of the chair filled the awkward silence. Drawing out the last sip as long as possible, I thought of my questions. My stomach twisted into a knotted mess.

At the last drop of tea, I set my cup on the coffee table, ignoring how it clattered against the wood.

It was now or never.

“Is Oliver’s sister alive?” I asked.

I was such a chicken shit.

Oliver choked on his apple, caught off guard by my question. But I wasn’t ready to ask about my mom. I needed a moment to work up to it, plus we needed to understand her price.

Magda fingered a small, glowing pendant on her chest. A crystal surrounded by five other crystals in varying shades of white pulsed with light before settling back to its dim color.

“The price for that answer is your name,” she replied, still fingering her pendant between her cleavage.

Easy. I opened my mouth to respond when Aspen’s chains clamored against the back of my chair, and his hands clamped down on my shoulder. His fingers alternated between squeezing and releasing, as if uncertain whether to offer reassurance, protection, or exert control. Regardless of his intent, I shrugged him off.

“Lucille,” I stated.

Magda’s gentle smile widened, and another pulse of light throbbed from her pendant. “She is.”

Oliver slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his duel-colored bangs. He gave me a relieved smile and twisted to face the witch. “Did Marcus bring her to the Mother of Demons?” he asked, butting in. Not that I blamed him.

“Your price for that question,” Magda said, pausing. She pursed her lips, rubbing her necklace. “Tell Lucy your deepest, most coveted desire. That you would do anything for.”

He squinted at her. “Why’d you make that sound dirty?” Oliver snorted. “I’m pretty sure, Lucy, and now everyone, knows what I want most. It’s my sister.”

Magda softened her expression. “Yes. The Mother of Demons has her.”

Oliver flew at Aspen. I jerked to a stand and held out my hands to stop his approach. Aspen may be vile and cruel, but I couldn’t help but feel the urge to protect him.

“He doesn’t know of her, Nephilim. He never has,” Magda said after a tense moment.

My stuttering heart slowed. We both settled back into our seats, eyeing each other.

“How?” Oliver whipped back to the witch. “How could he not?”

Magda slid her hand from her necklace up to her mouth, rubbing her dainty lips and exposing her white pendant, which turned pink. “Is that your next question?” she asked.

Oliver shot Aspen a scathing glare, fingering the tiny knife sheathed at his side. “Yes,” he said, green eyes flashing once before returning his focus to Magda.

Magda rubbed her pink, slowly turning purple, pendant. “What lengths would you go to rescue your sister?”

“All of them,” he answered immediately.

“Would you kill for her?

Oliver looked at Magda like she suddenly turned into an old hag.

She smiled. “You’ve never killed anyone in your life, have you? So would you kill for her?”

“It depends on who I’d need to kill. Marcus, yes. The princeling, maybe. Lucy, no.”

Magda pouted. “I suppose that’s a fine enough answer. Yes. The prince doesn’t know about her because she’s kept in a secure location only the queen knows about.”

“Where?” he demanded.

“That’s a question.”

“I’ll pay the⁠—”

She waved her hand. “Don’t bother. My amulet won’t show me. Next question.”

Oliver ran two hands through his hair and nodded to me.

It was my turn.

“How do you get rid of a Hell Rune?” I asked, avoiding the big question and the reason I was in Elora. But faced with the prospect of learning what my mother had done and where she was, stole the air from my lungs. I wasn’t ready. And I needed to fix Aspen.

Magda’s eyes glittered. “Your price is to tell the prince how you feel about him.”

Every muscle from my toes to my jaw tensed. I shoved at the flush threatening to overtake my face. “What do you mean?”

Magda smiled big and bright, almost like she enjoyed my discomfort. “You know exactly what I mean.” Her smile dropped. “Tell him.”

Needing a moment to think, I dropped my gaze to her chest, ignoring the creaking of wood and rattling chains. Her lavender pendant changed colors again, darkening to blue. At first, I thought the pendant changed colors with each question and answer, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Something else triggered the color change, though that detail seemed irrelevant as I avoided the question.

“What if… I’m not sure?”

Magda lifted a brow, lips flat. “That’d be a lie. Lies are not part of the deal, darling.” Her pendant flickered between purple and blue as her nostrils flared. “Do you want your answers?” she threatened.

I did, but I could hardly deal with my emotions myself. And telling him… It didn’t feel right. Not now. Not like this. But I haven’t asked about my mom yet, and we couldn’t get kicked out now.

Oliver grimaced like he knew exactly what I was going through. Magda sat and stared, waiting with a severe expression. And Aspen, I didn’t dare look behind me at the sneer or disgust waiting on his face.

“I—”

Damn it.

The tips of my ears burned, along with my neck, cheeks, forehead, and pretty much everything else.

Shutting my eyes, trying my best to ignore everyone, I spoke. “I always thought he’d be the handsome prince to steal me away from my life.” I scoffed. “In a way, he was. His dimples, touches, and actions all got under my skin.”

The day he called me sweetheart, his mantra of protection, stay here, stay put, stay safe, even when he warmed my leg to help the pain as he sewed me up, it all got under my skin. I opened my eyes, gazing at Oliver with a sad, resigned expression, remembering his words.

“I have feelings for him, for the male I met in the forest. But not for the male ruled by the rune who takes helpless females to his queen,” I finished with a terrible ache in my gut and a cement house on my chest. Part of me wanted to be swallowed whole by a Hellhound right about now, especially feeling the heat from Aspen’s hands inches behind me.

Magda’s face transformed with a brilliant smile. Her pendant shone a steady dark blue, no longer flashing.

“Mmhmm,” she moaned, shutting her eyes. “I quite enjoyed that answer.”

I glanced at Oliver, who mirrored my what the hell expression.

When Magda opened her eyes, they were the same shade of color as her pendant.

“Unfortunately, there’s only one person who can remove a Hell Rune, and he is locked away.”

I frowned. That’s all? “Who? That shouldn’t cost extra. I gave you a good answer.”

Magda regarded me with a perfectly plucked lifted brow. “I don’t give out freebies. I give what I want. But I’ll meet you halfway and answer with, the general to the Mother of Demon’s husband.”

“Say what?” Oliver jerked back. “There’s a Father of Demons?” He held up a hand as Magda opened her mouth. “No, that wasn’t a question. My mind is currently blown and trying to reconfigure. Please give me a moment.”

He wasn’t alone.

Slowly, not wanting to but forcing myself, I turned to Aspen. He met my gaze, jaw ticking away.

“Your queen is married?” I asked.

“My queen is bound to the male, but they despise each other. I understand the feeling.”

I sat back, taking in his disdain, wondering how many more of these looks and hurtful words it would take to erase the Aspen who wiggled his way into an innocent female’s heart, wondering if it was all lies or if some of his words held truth.

“Not hard to despise someone like her,” Oliver muttered, bringing me out of my head.

Aspen clenched and unclenched his jaw. The queen’s disgusting Hell Rune swirled with black light, coercing his loyalty and infiltrating his mind.

Even if there was a slight chance Aspen wasn’t lying about what he thought of me, he deserved to be free of his queen. His mom asked me to save him. I don’t know how it worked or how she knew I’d end up in the dream-walk, but she knew enough to tell me. She anticipated the consequences before Marcus took her son, and she acted in his best interests.

I turned from Aspen and faced Magda, not ready but as ready as I would ever be.

“What else do you have for me, darling?” Magda twirled a lock of her golden hair.

Was it shinier than normal?

A jangling hand latched onto my shoulder. “One last question.”

I jerked around. “I have more than one.”

Aspen shrugged. “Should’ve asked the important ones first. That’s not my problem.”

“Go to hell,” I whispered forcefully, holding back tears at his indifference, wishing for his dimples and soft touches. “I’ve come this far, and I’m not leaving without knowing everything about my mother and the king in my head.”

His hand dug into my shoulder. “What king in your head?”

“Ask me, Lucille,” Magda said with a smile in her voice.

Aspen shot a glance at Magda before landing back on me. “One,” he repeated. By his tone and the way his fingers threatened to tear apart my chair, he meant it. Kicking or screaming, he would make me leave. Good thing we cuffed him.

“Did my mother poison me to protect me?” I asked, hating the wobble in my voice and the way my lungs seized.

Magda’s blue pendant changed to blood red, and the glee I witnessed on her face—like she somehow won the biggest prize—unsettled me.

“I’ll tell you that interesting tidbit if you tell me what you are.”

Why did she want to know that?

“I believe I’m a born angel, the first of my kind,” I said. Oliver’s eyes grew.

Aspen scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

“I am,” I insisted.

Magda tilted her head, rubbing her pendant. “Yes, I sense you believe that, but that’s not all you are.”

“What else am I?”

She licked her lips. “Isn’t that the question of the hour? But to answer your previous question, yes. She thought it was the only way.” Magda crossed her ankles, smiling with shimmering hair.

Relief settled the queasiness in my stomach. There was a reason my mom did it. It wasn’t malicious, so she probably wasn’t working for Marcus, but why was he there, and where were they now?

“Do not ask anything else unless you want to be strangled,” Aspen snapped, digging his tingly fingers underneath my arm, trying to force me to stand.

I wrenched at my arm, but his fingers only gripped harder. So, I grabbed onto the heavy wooden chair. It didn’t stop him, but it made dragging me a little more difficult for him.

“Sweetheart, let go!”

I froze, twisting around to look at his chin, giving him the time to slide his arms over my head and haul me out of the chair and back against his chest. The rune remained black.

He tricked me.

Aspen gripped my chin, smirking as he pulled us to the door. “The only person who gets to maim you is my queen. So, keep your mouth shut.”

“Now you sound like Brock,” I spat before he covered my mouth. He flinched as the rune flickered, but it wasn’t enough. My presence, my words, my touch, nothing was enough to get him back. I needed the general to the queen’s husband.

Oliver stood, bouncing his attention from the scene we were making and Magda, who sat daintily smiling in her chair, golden hair gleaming.

I ducked, forcing Aspen’s cuffed hands to choose between muffling my words or keeping me close. He attempted both by pressing a hand into my chest and mouth, failing to silence me.

“Where is she? Where’s my mom?” I asked, voice muffled but strong.

“Sweetheart,” Aspen gasped, awkwardly twisting my face toward his. The rune flickered between skin and red light, mirroring his emotions as they wavered between worry and emptiness. “Listen to me, please. I know you can’t shield your emotions, but no more questions, or we won’t leave, and I need you safe. Once I open the door, run.”

His eyes. I reached up, tempted to touch them. They glowed. He wore two pairs of magical suppressing cuffs, and his eyes glowed with power.

“Did you hear me, Lucille? Run and leave us.”

I pressed a hand to his cheek, realizing even with my Binding Rune and his power-suppressing cuffs, nothing stopped the tingles of our bond. “But I have to save you,” I said, staring into the eyes of the male who wanted me to stay safe, staring into my Aspen’s eyes.

He dropped his forehead to mine. “There’s nothing left of me to save.”

Magda threw her head back and laughed. “Sorry, darling, but I no longer need her questions with how much sorrow and hope she’s throwing about. It’s so raw and potent. Delicious,” she tittered. “Although I will say, Lucille. You won’t have to wait long before you find your mom again.”

What did that mean?

As Aspen approached the door, she dropped her head slowly, her gaze locking onto us with eyes that mirrored the color of her pendant—a hue that filled me with growing dread.

“Run, Lucille,” Aspen snapped, pressing me against the door.

Even if I wanted to, the doorknob wouldn’t twist.

Magda stood, hair floating around her in a glowing halo. “You’ve given me quite a meal. I’m not ready to let you go yet. Not with one last thing to do.”

A strand of golden hair lengthened, floating over to Oliver, who scrambled toward us. It caressed his cheek. He flinched back as the glowing hair seared a line into his skin.

“You should’ve listened to the princeling, darling.” She prowled forward. “But I’m quite glad you didn’t. The last time the prince came, he gave me nothing. But you two. You don’t shield your emotions. It’s delectable.”

“Uncuff me, Luc—prisoner.” Aspen vibrated with tension and warmed my hands with his unnaturally hot back. The heat penetrated his thick leather uniform. Almost as if the rune sent its searing heat through his body or his power sought release. I couldn’t tell which, or maybe it was both.

“She doesn’t have the key. I do, and I think it may be best to leave your cuffs on,” Oliver said next to me, trying his hand at opening the door.

“But Nephilim, don’t you know what’s on the prince’s wrists?” Magda said, smiling like she was about to win something.

Oliver raised a brow. “I do know. They’re called cuffs.”

“But they can⁠—”

“Get me to my sister? Yeah, Lucy told me.”

“But my vision showed me she hid that information…” she trailed off and frowned.

“Sorry to ruin whatever chaos you had brewing, but your next emotional meal isn’t on the menu.”

Magda sighed as her skin shimmered like the glow in her hair. “Fine, darling. We’ll do this the hard way, then.”

“Uncuff me!” Aspen bellowed.

But before we could react, Magda sent a flare of golden light at Oliver, and it sank into his skin.

“I hate doing the dirty jobs.” Magda pouted. “So please knock out the female and kill the prince for me. He’d make a lovely addition to my fence.”

Oliver slid a dagger from the sheath on his hip and stepped toward us. He smiled in a twisted sort of way. In a way I’d never seen. “With pleasure.”

“Touch Lucille, and I’ll have you begging for mercy, Nephilim,” Aspen snarled, shifting his body to protect me from Oliver and Magda. I wasn’t sure if it was the queen’s Aspen protecting me or my Aspen.

“How? You’re cuffed?” Oliver sneered at him, stepping closer.

“Oliver, whatever she’s done to you, fight it! You don’t want to kill Aspen or hurt me!”

“The prince works for the queen who has my sister. That’s reason alone for him to die.” He stepped closer to Aspen, pressing his dagger into Aspen’s neck, their chest nearly touching. An unnatural heat radiated from Aspen’s shoulders.

My stomach dropped to my toes. I tried to squirm around Aspen to protect him, but he only shoved me back.

“Back up, Nephilim.”

Oliver glanced down at Aspen’s chin. “I think you look better with the queen’s rune. At least then we know where your loyalty lies.”

“My loyalty will always lie with Lucille.”

Oliver snorted, lifting his gaze to me. “You only wish that were true. But your queen has you leashed like a good little pawn. How long do you think you’ll have this time with her? How many sweet lies will you whisper into her ear before you turn on her because of that rune?”

Aspen nodded down to Oliver’s wrist. “If that rune is what I think it is, are you not a pawn?”

“Sure. But the difference, princeling, is that I was her protection detail.”

“And now you’re going to betray her and knock her out to let the witch do whatever she wants with her?”

Oliver shrugged, eyes apathetic. “Not my problem.”

I flinched back from Aspen and the sweltering heat coming off him. He raised his flameless sword to Oliver’s neck, and my eyes widened. He couldn’t have taken that out of its sheath with his hands cuffed. I looked down at his side and found melted leather and ash.

But how?

Then I saw a flicker of blue flame snake around Aspen’s cuffed hands holding the sword. It wasn’t enough power to transfer to the blade, but it captured Oliver’s attention. Not that he seemed concerned about the sword at his neck or the flames that were trying to breach two sets of cuffs.

“I said back the fuck up, Nephilim. Or I will take your head. I don’t care if the witch is controlling you or if Lucille hates me. I have taken enough lives to no longer care about my soul or what I have to do to protect what’s mine.”

I glanced at Magda and found every part of her glowing, gazing at Oliver like he was dessert, controlling my first friend and making him turn on us. I was so sick and tired of haughty power-hungry bitches thinking they could control anyone they wanted. And when her eyes flashed and both of Oliver’s hands shot out, Aspen only managed to block the knife diving toward his chest. But Oliver had a fail-safe as he latched his other hand onto Aspen’s wrist, making my guardian crumble. Pricks and itches tickled my skin, and music whispered in my ears.

I glanced down at my Binding Rune. It turned lighter. How? Then a piece of a dream-walk memory came to me, of me on my bed, bathed in flames, looking at a Binding Rune that my powers destroyed. At that time, I had no control; now I had some.

I smiled down at my rune and dove to the deepest depths of my power, finding a mass of brilliant light and coiling darkness ready to aid my vengeance. Pressure pushed at my eyes, and itches swallowed my torso until my rune turned white, and purple flames enveloped my skin.

Oliver crouched over Aspen, pressing a knife against his neck. A fierce protectiveness surged through me, and I threw out my hand. A ball of ice smashed into Oliver’s forehead, knocking him out. I felt terrible for hurting him, but I had no choice.

I turned to Magda. She shot a flare of golden light at me, but it did nothing against my purple flame. I tsked. “You unleashed hell. I hope you’re ready to freeze in it.”