Chapter 38 #3
Her hand flew to her throat, as if to call forth her magic, but it did not answer to her. Neither did her wings—they stayed locked tightly against her back like a feathered cage.
This was foolish. She was a fool for coming this far out alone. But she hadn’t realized how far she had ventured. Beyond the shadows of the trees, she spied the glimmer of lights from the palace.
Luella quickened her steps. Her heart hammered in her chest, and low-hanging branches brushed against her calves, sweeping out of her way as if to guide her path.
Above the pressing howl of the wind, a familiar sound filled the air.
Her eyes widened. Wings.
Dark feathers flashed, and two Fallen dropped from the bridges above, landing expertly on either side of her. One at her front, blocking the view of the inviting candlelight, and one at her back, trapping her.
Her breaths were ragged, but she tried to quell her panic. It wouldn’t aid her here.
"Princess Luella of Solis," said the Fallen before her. A male with long dark hair and tanned skin. His companion at her back was shorter, but thick with muscle, his wings spanning wide and menacing.
Luella turned so she could keep both males in her line of sight, which put her back to the darkness at her side. Air whispered through her wings, drawing both of their eyes.
"H-hello," she stammered. "Why are you here?" She tried to make her voice strong.
"To help the Queen with a little problem." The shorter one stepped forward, and they both worked to herd her away from the sight of the palace. "The Queen has a kind heart. She is not willing to do what it takes to keep us safe. But we will."
No.
It was clear their intentions were nothing but wicked. There was no more time for niceties.
Each breath pressed Luella’s chest against the bodice of her gown. She raised her chin. "Queen Samil declared I am to have safety here. If you harm me, you will be cast out."
They laughed. "That’s if she finds out."
With dark hair falling over his shoulder, the taller one pulled a dagger from his pocket, twirling it before him. "I believe she would bless us if she knew we ridded our Isles of an angel. The Prince belongs here." His smile turned menacing, blue eyes narrowing in on her. "The rest of you do not."
They lunged.
Luella opened her mouth to scream—her last saving grace—but she was tackled, her wings shoved against a tree as she was pinned to it, a hand pressed over her mouth to stifle the sound of her warning cries.
She struggled, kicking and hitting. Every cry was muffled by the sweaty palm against her lower face.
She wouldn’t go down without a fight. Never again.
Her knee landed right between the legs of the Fallen pinning her, and he groaned, hands going slack against her. Just enough for her to break free.
Luella made a fist and weakly punched out at his stomach, tearing away from his grip. The tree bark lanced against her wings and exposed back, burning as it scraped the entirety of it.
They blocked the way to the castle. She was forced to run in the other direction.
Her breaths were loud and ragged, drowned out by the wind.
No crunch of leaves behind her, or thundering footsteps. It was silent.
That meant nothing for beings who could take to the skies.
A stitch in her side made her grimace and gasp for breath, but she pushed on. Where was her magic when she needed it most?
She hated this helplessness.
A loud thump sounded behind her, in time with the descent of one of the Fallen as he landed right before her. She stumbled, narrowly missing running right into him.
The flash of the dagger was her only warning.
Luella ducked and slammed into his side to avoid the blade; the momentum sent them both tumbling to the ground. The blade skittered away, resting near a pile of leaves. Her breath was knocked from her by the force of the fall. She didn’t stop.
She inhaled sharply, back burning, her gaze finding the dagger at the same time his did. And she dove for it, scrambling against the ground. One arm outstretched, fingers reaching, and—
A boot slammed down on her fingers.
Luella released a choked scream, pain lancing through her hand and up her arm. Her eyes squeezed shut. "Ah—ow!"
"The angel is a fighter."
The male she’d knocked over finally grasped the dagger. "Who would’ve thought?"
Blindly, she grasped for something—anything.
The fingers of her other hand found purchase on a sharp rock, and she gripped it weakly, swinging her arm with all her might.
It landed with a loud crack against the Fallen’s knee, and the weight of his boot let up on her other hand.
Her fingers throbbed as she pushed herself up.
The two Fallen watched her as she stood, wobbling, her hand cradled to her chest.
"When they find out what you’ve done, they’ll kill you," she said to them both, unable to stop a strange smile. Her words were a warning they did not take. They laughed. "I pity you. Because when they find out…"
Her Vincire would move the Above and Below for her. This, Luella knew with her entire heart.
Her words sparked menace in their eyes.
"No one will find out. There’ll be no body to find."
That promise made her gasp in fear. They didn’t move, because they thought they had her. They thought it was over.
Luella knew it wasn’t—not until she could no longer fight.
She dove for the side, lunging toward a break in the trees. Her fingers pulsed.
A blade seared through her upper arm. Sharp and hot. She flinched, slamming into the male who had cut her, and a hand grabbed her shoulder, branding the pain further into her being. Blood slid down her bare arm and soaked her gown. The immediacy scared her.
She released a stuttering breath, frozen. When she tightened her fist to stop the gush, her grip felt clumsy.
"Told you we should’ve used the blade first," said the male who pulled away a dagger and wiped it on the edge of her gown, the dull side against her hipbone, leaving a smear of blood.
She was afraid to look for fear of what she’d see. Was it deep?
"Knock her out. Let’s get this over with."
The Fallen raised the blunt hilt of the dagger, and she shrank back, arm burning, blood trickling from the cut and dripping from her fingertips.
"Wait. No!" she begged, attempting to raise her good arm, but it was caught and held behind her sharply.
The last thing she saw was the end of the dagger as it came right for her head.