Chapter 28 Eyes Never Lie
EYES NEVER LIE
LUELLA
All at once, the Fallen warriors bowed their heads, the tips of the spears held downward, no longer threatening.
Luella stared at Graves as he regarded the Fallen, the dark moonlight casting shadows on his tanned skin. Proud and quiet, yet a gloved hand reached for the amulet at his throat, as if for reassurance.
"Prince Sorren," the Fallen leader proclaimed, finally raising his head to stare at Graves.
Graves, who was not Graves. Graves, who was a prince, the Prince… of the Fallen. Graves, who stood behind her, could barely look her in the eye. Graves, who had lied to her.
All this time.
He had lied to her.
Again.
Luella was uncaring of the soft sting at her neck from the shallow cut of the Fallen’s spear. She was uncaring that the Fallen still surrounded them, and that they were on a small boat, swaying over the dark waters.
In the distance, thunder rumbled. And it was that loud, ominous sound echoing off the archway of rocks that finally made Graves look to her.
His expression was guarded, mouth a thin line, and brows drawn low over his deep blue eyes. But those eyes, they never lie. Not to her. Within their depths, sorrow and apology, understanding and grim acceptance.
She locked onto his eyes, daring him to look away—hoping he was able to read her, just as easily.
Did he see her anger? Did he see her fear? Did he feel it?
Wind echoed as it gusted through the archway, rustling the Fallen’s feathers and making her cloak billow out.
"I have," Graves declared, all while staring deeply into her eyes. "But not to stay. I am here to find someone."
One of the Fallen to her left, hovering near Vale, spoke. "You are not here to stay? Queen Samil will be angered."
"My mother is not of your concern, nor is my business here. I left for a reason, and I must see it through," Graves rasped. He spoke more eloquently than Luella had ever heard, yet his tone still held the deep rumble of one who did not speak often.
The Fallen leader inclined his head. "Forgive Pyne. He is young and speaks out of turn. He grew up with the fabled Prince Sorren as a mere tale told around fires."
Pyne, the Fallen near Vale, grew abashed, the black feathers behind him fluttering as he was reprimanded.
Luella’s mouth fell open the longer she watched. How could they all act as if nothing was amiss here?
Before her, Az was stiff, his horns curving above his dark curls. The Fallen hovering before him at the tip of their boat drifted back as a low grumble rippled through the demon.
"No matter. I am aware it’s… unusual. My being here. But we seek a female who has sought refuge here on the Isles. A mage and her Ignis fae lover." Graves’s low voice carried over the water, echoed by thunder, growing nearer with every breath she breathed.
The wind picked up, making her teeter forward, and she caught herself on Az’s back, letting out a low huff. The Fallen looked to her, curiosity shining in their faces.
"You have a female with you, and a… demon?" The Fallen leader narrowed his eyes, taking in how Az wrapped an arm around Luella, growling at the Fallen whose eyes lingered too long.
"They are friends, and they will be treated as such," Graves ordered, waving a hand to the other boat, where Vale, Tharen, and Bastian were unusually quiet. "As will they."
"Queen Samil does not take well to visitors, especially in times like these. We trust our own, but not without cost. To keep the Umbra out, we’ve had to implement new measures.
Our healers have found a way to get slumbering Umbra to awaken.
" The leader made a soft motion with his hand, barely the flick of his fingers, and the Fallen surrounding them lifted their spears, just enough to set them all on edge.
Az’s arm tightened around her, and the magic locked within her beat against its bars, desperate to be let free. Wind howled, and the Fallen looked around, the whistling echo of it against the rocks foreboding.
"We must leave from here. A storm is approaching," said the Fallen leader, his spear crossed over his chest in warning.
"What is it you are not telling me?" Graves uttered lowly. "Speak."
"You must be kept secluded for one week.
All of you. Alone. We have caves in the mountains to the west, far away from the rest of the Isles.
It is how we keep the Umbra away. This method has worked for centuries, and we cannot risk it.
" The Fallen dipped his chin in slight deference. "Not even for you, Prince Sorren."
The silence stretched on, broken by the storm roiling in the distance.
"Very well," said Graves. "We’ll go willingly."
The tension in the air seeped away, and the Fallen lowered their spears, once more.
Had they been afraid that Graves would deny their request? Were they… scared that the Umbra could be slumbering within them?
"Take the left waterway. We will escort you," the Fallen stated, wings sending water droplets splattering on her cheeks as they all formed a perfect triangle around their boats.
"Sit back down, ang—" Az broke off with a low curse. "Lu, sit back down, please." Her demon helped her to sit, and she did so without a word, shocked.
Graves was the Prince of the Fallen Isles.
Lightning crashed above. She did not move.
But the others did.
Even Az flinched softly at the loud crack as it reverberated through the rock around them.
The Fallen tipped his head back, staring at the sky. "It is the storm season here. Rainy in the winter and dry in the summer. Warm, all year long. But these winds…" He trailed off.
Luella’s breath left her raggedly, ratcheting out of her mouth and filling the air as the wind swept around them. She was so angry, tired of being deceived.
It was deadly quiet and far too solemn as they rowed onward.
The Fallen instructed them to paddle while warriors surrounded the boat, herding them deeper into the snaking waterways.
At last, the archway yielded, revealing the sky in its clouded, brooding glory.
Wisps of air clung to the jagged mountain peaks, veiling them in night and sending chills down her spine.
So close, she could almost reach out and touch.
The water rippled as the oars cut through it, Az rowing on, and Tharen, in the boat beside them, doing the same, casting heated glances her way.
She swallowed, feeling the skin on her throat catch from the shallow cut from the Fallen’s spear.
She did not care of the pain. It grounded her and built up her fury.
Thunder reverberated through the mountains stretching high on either side of them, pounding against her eardrums like the beat of her heart.
The Fallen shared a tense look.
Graves was so still behind her, she wondered if he had slipped off the boat and vanished beneath the water—or if he had ever even been real to begin with.
It was that thought that gripped her, a vise around her heart tightening until she could scarcely breathe.
The wind faltered as she turned her head, lifting her hood aside with a cold hand to peer behind her.
Graves sat rigid, his hood pushed back, his cowl resting below his chin, and his eyes… so dark, so solemn.
He met her gaze, jaw clenching.
She turned to look at the Fallen. Most were ahead, leading the way, but two remained behind—one anchoring their boat, the other holding fast to the second.
She couldn’t contain the words any longer.
"You liar," Luella hissed. The words seemed to slither over the water like a serpent.
The Fallen behind Graves caught her eyes, fingers tightening on his spear.
Graves shook his head almost imperceptibly. Quiet, he mouthed.
"Is that an order from a Prince?" Her voice was low, but unable to be hidden from the males around her.
Tharen snapped his fingers, sharp as a whip. "Be quiet."
She wanted to laugh. Wanted to scream her rage into the mountains. The magic within her slammed against its cage.
Luella leaned over the edge of the boat, peering down into her reflection in the dark water.
Her hood pulled far over her head, tiny white curls spilling out around her pale cheeks.
Blue eyes, storm-tossed with fury. The second boat drifted close as she whispered across to Tharen, "Are you worried of what I might say? "
Tharen turned to Vale, behind him. "Order her to be silent." The words were meant as a warning; unbeknownst to the Fallen around, the King could very well demand her silence, and she would have no choice but to obey.
But Vale only held her eyes and murmured, "Leave her be."
A gloved hand fell to her shoulder, tugging her back into the safety of the boat.
It rocked softly from the movements. Fingers tightened on her shoulder, making her still.
Cloves and honey wrapped around her as Graves—not Graves—leaned against her back, reminding her so much of when he had forced her onto the netting.
He moved his lips until they could press against her ear, hidden by the hood of her cloak. "I swear it to you, I will explain. But not right now." His hand did not stray from her shoulder as he moved back, trapping her in place.
Their journey continued in tense silence, lightning streaking overhead.
The Fallen directed them to a small ledge of rocks, sloping upward from the water. Their black wings folded to their backs with ease as their feet touched the ground. She envied how effortless they made it appear. Her wings shivered under her cloak in yearning.
Az disembarked, the water coming up to his knees and sloshing around him as he turned to face her, hands wrapping around the boat as he tugged it to shore, where it was notched against the rocks.
She swayed, standing as Graves urged her to, Az reaching for her hand and helping her onto the rocky shore.
Her head tipped back, staring up at the towering expanse of jagged, deadly rocks, creeping upward into the clouds.
Tharen stepped beside her quickly, grabbing her shoulders and taking the side of her face, forcing her to look at him.
His icy eyes were dark as his hands spanned the entire underside of her jaw.
A finger brushed over the small cut on her neck.
He hummed. "Shallow. Doesn’t need stitches. Does it hurt?"
"No," she said quietly, feeling her neck strain as he kept it tipped back uncomfortably.
The mage let her go, saying nothing else.
The Fallen leader inclined his head. "Just up that way, Prince Sorren.
All who pass into the Isles must isolate here for a week.
No communicating with outsiders. Meals will be brought to you, and there is a small bath.
" He waved a hand, gesturing for them to follow up a path cut into the rocks.
She sighed, exhausted just from looking at it.
"I’m sure Queen Samil will not be pleased to have her son living in such conditions, but you must understand.
" Each word the Fallen said was guarded, as if, at any moment, he expected them all to turn on him with shadowed eyes and angered bites.
"It is the way. We will not come here and disrupt it," Graves rasped.
Her Vincire crowded around her as they began to walk, keeping as close as they could with the narrow path.
Before her, Az. Her fingers tightened on the demon’s as he helped her up the steep steps.
Vale was close behind her, embers warming her back.
Each time she stilled on the path, forcing her posture to straighten against the strain of her wings, she felt the dragon shifter as he brushed against her, so close, too close.
The steep path finally gave way to a flat, circular expanse, mountains still towering high above them, blocking the little moonlight that threatened to pierce through the clouds. Her Vincire stepped around her, shielding her.
The Fallen eyed them all curiously, the leader stepping forward and tugging a key from within a hidden pocket in his trousers.
He stopped by a thick door crafted of brass, and it was at that moment, Luella noticed the rocky walls surrounding the flat expanse were broken up by divots, holding identical doors.
"Who wants to go first?" The Fallen’s voice echoed.
Az stepped in front of her, shielding her as he grumbled, and she placed a hand on his lower back. Bastian pressed into her other side, quietly reassuring her.
She was smothered under them.
"I will." Luella stepped out from between the thick press of the five males, feeling their eyes pin her to the rocky ground as she tilted her head back, letting the wind whisper over her exposed face as she repeated, "I will go first."
Graves stepped in front of her. "I will go first. That is an order."
The Fallen’s lips tipped into a smirk as he opened the door, and the hinges groaned as it swung open. "My Prince," the Fallen said.
Graves stepped inside, and she peered into the small cracks around him, seeing a cozy bed in the darkness.
"Take care of them," Graves said. "The vampire will need fresh blood daily. And we have animals on our ship, anchored in an outcropping of rocks not far from the arch. They will need to be cared for." Luella had almost forgotten about Ven and Tharen’s wolves, but as Graves stated his demands, she noticed how some of the tension in Tharen’s shoulders eased—he truly cared for his pack.
"Of course, Prince Sorren," said the Fallen.
"In a week, you’ll see that I am who I claim to be." Graves’s eyes found Luella’s, and she quickly looked away.
The door shut with a clang.
Az’s hand tightened around hers, unwilling to let her go. He stepped forward next, turning to press a soft, gentle kiss to her crown. "You’ll be taken care of, Lu. Safe," he whispered.
And the next door was shut.
"Through here." The Fallen inclined his head toward Luella, holding open another door.
She stepped into the room, finding a simple bed with gauzy drapes, a small stone bath tucked in the corner, and a spout jutting out of the wall above it. Windowless and secluded.
She stared out at them all, finding her remaining Vincire watching her with rapturous intent.
Vale and Tharen stepped forward at the same moment, both with hands stretched out toward her, as if to say something, do something. She didn’t want that. Not at all. Not right now.
Luella met the Fallen’s dark gaze. "Shut the door."
His eyes narrowed, but he dipped his chin, and the door fell closed, sealing her in the room.
The last thing she saw was Bastian, dark hair rippling around him as his pale skin shone beneath the dark night.