Chapter 18
Everything is painful: movements, existence, and even the thoughts that fill my fractured mind. Bronwyn sits on my bed, watching me intently, flinching at every wince as she assists me in getting ready.
Just as Lowell promised, a dress arrived in my room minutes after we did, while I was in the most painful shower I’ve ever had.
Shaw delivered the dress with Talon close by, and I’m glad I didn’t have to see them.
Bronwyn quickly pushed them away after a few confusing looks, knowing that visitors aren’t what I need now. For that, I’m eternally grateful.
I limp across the room, and Bronwyn smiles from her seat at the end of my bed. Gasping, I lean over to pick up the large box and set it on my desk across from her. I unwrap the ribbon and throw back the lid to retrieve the dress for today’s occasion. A note falls to the ground:
Wear your hair up, Mara.
It looks best that way.
Love,
Lowell
Anger sends a pulse of pain straight to my back, causing me to double over, groaning. Bronwyn rushes over to keep me upright and runs her hands through my hair, trying to comfort me in any way possible.
“Stand up,” she says. “It’s looking a bit better already.” She leans down to pick up the note. She quickly reads the words and scoffs, “Fucking asshole.”
I remove the dress from the box and let the long black fabric pool around me on the ground.
Even holding the heavy dress causes pain, but I extend my arms for a better look.
Dark as night, the silk dress is adorned with long sleeves, a high neck, and—just as Lowell said—it’s completely backless.
A high slit travels up one of the legs, and if this dress were for any other occasion, I’d be thrilled to wear such a beautiful piece.
I slip into the dress with Bronwyn’s assistance and pull the sleeves on one by one.
The dress hugs every curve of my body, and the back dips so low it nearly exposes the top of my ass.
The dress is modest yet sexy, covering every inch of me except my back, which is mangled from deep burns.
Everyone in the Jade Order will see what Lowell is capable of, and I believe it is another fucked-up way he can intimidate others to maintain power.
Bronwyn helps me with my hair, clipping it up into a messy bun, since lifting my arms isn’t an option. I walk to the large, floor-length mirror to check my reflection. From the front, I look stunning. The dress is perfect and just my style, not leaving an ounce of my shape to the imagination.
She pauses and walks to my dresser, picking up the broken necklace. She quickly searches through my belongings, finds a stray chain, slides the black diamond onto it, and fastens the necklace around me. The weight settles near the middle of my breasts and looks exquisite against the black fabric.
“For confidence.” She smiles. “I’ll fix the chain while you are gone.”
I hesitate to turn, and with a sharp inhale, I slowly twist my body to look at my back. I grip the necklace, allowing a wave of power to flow through me.
I can do this.
I try not to gag when I see the damage. My skin is creased, discolored, and still blistered in places from the severity of the burns. I can feel my power working to heal me, but things like this can take time, and that’s a hard realization to swallow.
The worst of the burns is located where my wings would unfold.
Dark charred spots cover my back, and a tear rolls down my cheek.
The urge to extend them weighs heavily in my mind, but I know that doing so would bring pain that I cannot endure right now.
I can try in a few days and pray I don’t black out from the pain then.
I quickly turn away to see Bronwyn watching me with a pained face.
“It’s going to heal,” she reassures me.
I nod. “Some will, sure, but I think a few scars will remain—external and internal.”
She walks toward me and gently wraps her arms around my neck, being careful not to touch the healing wounds. She pulls away and keeps both hands on my shoulders, steadying my still-uneasy stance.
“I know you did what you thought was right in the moment that night, Mara.”
I stare into her eyes, holding back more tears—I’m tired of crying.
“I only wanted to protect you. I’ve only ever wanted to keep you safe,” I respond.
“I know that.” She leans forward and kisses my cheek. “But don’t you ever go behind my back again.”
The night I left for my final assignment, I did everything I could to prevent her from discovering that I was leaving. She told me not to go, suggesting there might be another way for me to figure out how to succeed in this, but I didn’t listen. I was foolish.
Lowell had given me a nearly impossible task that seemed suspicious from the beginning. The night I left to kill Sam Haber, the father of Halcyon City’s Chief of Police, I found myself in a setup.
Bronwyn checks the clock and turns to me, moving a piece of hair out of place from my messy bun. She walks to the bathroom, leaving me standing there, and returns with a few makeup products. She quickly applies a few final touches before stepping back, proud of her work.
“Injury or not, you are beautiful. And believe me or not, the scars add to your beauty.” A soft smile curls her lips. “You going to be alright?”
No.
“Eventually,” I lie, as I turn to walk to the door.
With my back to Bronwyn, self-consciousness grows within me, and I can’t shake it. I hear her footsteps approaching as she opens the door for me. Before I cross the threshold, she stops me.
“Here.” She discreetly slips me a small knife. “Put this on your thigh. I left my smallest pistol in my room, or I’d give you that.”
I don’t waste time, doing precisely what she says.
I have a plan.
The hallway is relatively empty as I step onto the hardwood floor. My heels click with each step, and I stand tall, not allowing the stares from the other angels to rip me apart. Bronwyn stays close, shielding the stares and intimidating anyone who gets too close, forcing them to step back.
We walk together toward Lowell’s office, and as we approach the doors, I think about how different things were merely hours earlier—how I was mentally and physically different. However, I have a new plan in place, and it has everything to do with taking down Lowell Lyre.
I try to lift my arm to knock, but my back twinges. Bronwyn steps in front of me and slams her hand into the wooden surface with force, as I would. She winks and moves to walk around the corner.
“Knock ‘em dead, babe. See you when I can.”
Déjà vu settles in as I'm instructed to enter the office. The wide door swings open, and this time, blinding lights don’t assault my vision. Instead, the office is warm, and a roaring fire crackles in Lowell’s massive fireplace, immediately reminding me of the searing pain I feel.
He sits near the flames, drink in hand, but he stands as I enter.
His tall frame looms over me, even with heels on, and his perfectly tailored tuxedo accentuates his broad shoulders.
His long white hair is tied back, and his eyes twinkle in the light of the fire.
Lowell’s wings are folded into his body, and he still looks otherworldly without them—as if no matter how hard he tried, he would never fit in here.
“You look stunning. And you found your necklace. Amazing,” Lowell says, taking my hand to plant a kiss on it. “I thought a fire would make us cozier while we wait.”
I nod, allowing the rage to dance within me like the flames before me. I don’t let my mind return to that room or the pain that gnaws at me.
“Wait for what?” I ask.
He smiles, ushering me to the seat closest to the flames. The heat shocks my system, but I sit, fully turning my injured back to the fire to glare into his eyes. Lowell studies me, waiting for a reaction, and when I don’t amuse him by giving him one, he settles into his chair.
“Carver has insisted we be escorted to the Jade Order for our protection.” He takes a drink of the clear liquid in his glass. “They will be here momentarily.”
They.
“Who is they?” I ask.
Lowell stands and walks to the bar, opening the glass decanter and swirling it around. “You look like you need a drink.”
He pours me a glass and walks back to the sitting area to join me. He extends his arm, and I take a sip, letting the liquid scald my throat, mirroring my external burns.
“Crew and Carver, of course. There’s no better way to show up than with them.” He smiles. “They have prepared a bit of a party for us. It’s been centuries since the Orders have come together, so this is quite a big deal. It’s why I wanted you to look perfect for tonight.”
I take another gulp. “Can’t wait.”
Lowell takes his time bringing the glass to his lips, never breaking eye contact with me. “After your stunt, I can’t imagine the demons will be very inviting since you shot their heir.”
“He’s a big boy,” I mumble.
“Indeed.” Lowell takes a sip of his drink, following my lead.
Our eyes meet, and I don’t back down from his stare. His gaze burrows into mine, and I force a smile, but I know he sees right through me. His eyes travel down my body like a slithering snake, and I cringe.
“Please forgive me for earlier, Mara.” Lowell stands, moving toward the fire. “I was only doing what I was told. It really pained me to do that. I could feel your discomfort.”
“I understand.” I nearly choke on the words.
“I hope there are no hard feelings.”
I take another long drink and rise, feeling every ounce of pain move through my back, yet I remain calm. I cross the sitting area and stop, standing directly in front of him and the fire, inches away from both.
“None whatsoever,” I say, close to his face. “I was wrong.”
He raises an eyebrow as he catches sight of how close I'm standing to him and breaks into a smile. Lowell’s finger gently traces the curve of my jaw, and I stand my ground, even though I'm tempted to pull away from his touch.
“You truly are beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispers.