Wings of Hope (Fallen Destiny #3)

Chapter 1

KIERAN

Death was supposed to be quieter than this.

Still. Soft. Maybe even merciful if I was lucky. Instead, pain screamed through my being. All my nerves were flayed raw, pain grinding down to the bone and clawing through my marrow until I was locked inside a shell I couldn’t escape.

My throat burned, every breath hot and ragged. Each heartbeat stuttered, my mind replaying the singular cut my father opened across my throat as if time itself wanted to haunt me with it.

Time slowed, every second stretched with agonizing pain.

In that void, temptation whispered for me to let go: to end it, to surrender, to stop fighting.

Yet something unseen tugged at me, sharp and insistent, demanding I remember my promise–my reason to stay.

The prophecy, my men, and the world we were just beginning to change.

My body might have been broken, but I wasn’t finished. Not in the slightest.

Power lingered in the lethal wound my own dagger left in the hollow of my neck, humming as the magic surged inward and coursed through me.

Unfortunately for my father, who wanted to end me, this dagger was the symbol of a legacy and strength etched into my being by the Star Keepers before me.

It wouldn’t let me give up on our collective hopes and dreams. It might have been the knife that cut me, but it was also the knife that held a power only I could wield.

My limbs were numb, yet I still felt it deep within: a hot pulse radiating from the wound, pushing through my veins one heartbeat at a time. The power surged through me and split me open from within, dragging strength out of places I hadn’t known existed to mend my wounds.

It was like being broken and rebuilt in the same breath—reinforced with a mettle I only felt sparingly at times before this. Now it was like nothing else existed outside of it.

My heartbeat filled my ears until it was all I could hear, echoing and whooshing until other pulses beat in tandem alongside it as the voices of the Star Keepers rose through my core.

Their strength steadied my scattered mind that struggled to hold onto the life slipping through my fingers.

It rushed through my body to pool at the torn edges of my throat, warmth saturating the area until the jagged skin began to knit together slowly.

Rise, Keeper. Your work is not yet complete.

The voices swept through my mind like wind through a canyon, one after another.

I felt every stitch of magic weaving itself through the mess of my throat.

Cartilage snapping into place as it reformed.

The wet sound of muscle knitting. And beyond the pain, I saw them.

The Star Keepers of the past flared behind my eyes, their joint constellations alive for a singular heartbeat.

Each poured strength into me before fading from my mind’s view.

For one final moment, the pain became blinding just before the air tore back into my lungs.

Sensation returned to my limbs as my body convulsed.

My chest heaved with my gasps for the precious air I’d been deprived of.

Dizziness hit hard as my eyes flew open, the world around me suddenly filled with smoke and the clash of a battle still raging.

Angels flew through the sky around us still, like I hadn’t missed a single moment of the battle. Gabe’s arms were still clamped tightly around me, crushing my back to his chest, just as they had when I went limp in his hold and the light slipped away from me.

How long had I been out?

I tilted my head back, my vision swimming, and found him staring down at me, his skin as pale as the ghost it seemed he thought I was.

“Little Star,” he rasped out in a gasp. “You died. You fucking died.” His chest heaved against my back with every word, like he suddenly forgot how to breathe and speak simultaneously. “I felt you go limp, lifeless. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“I…” I trailed off, blinking up at him as my hand came up to feel the thin line of a scar at my neck. “I don’t…” My words failed me as I grasped at the details of the world around us, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Did I truly die? Did the Star Keeper magic from my own dagger heal me?

My vision blurred as I dragged my gaze from Gabe, smoke stinging my eyes as I squinted. The others were around us, holding the line for defenses, it seemed.

A shadow serpent writhed at Ronan’s side, his body braced to strike.

Steele stood just beyond him, his bloodied sword steady in his grip and his silver eyes locked on the fight around us in the sky and on the ground.

Bastian prowled at the edge of my vision, crimson blood magic sparking faintly across his hands.

Overhead, Niz’s wings beat a steady thunder that matched my heartbeat.

Together, they held the line against the chaos, like a true unit.

My chest heaved as it all came crashing back in. Despite Gabe’s grounding arms, my body trembled out of control. My father truly tried to kill me. Tears pricked at my eyes as I remembered his awful last words.

Now you can join your mother. It’s a fitting end, as you were both such disappointments to me.

It’s one thing to know my father hated me, but it’s a whole other issue to compartmentalize and process him actually slicing a dagger through my throat.

Every jagged breath lifted my chest and filled my lungs. I had drifted in that place between life and death. Away from my guys and the chance to keep the stars from falling and killing the world.

It could have all been gone in that one flash.

“Hey, Little Star, look at me,” Gabe crooned, tightening his arms around my shaking frame. “You’re here. I’ve got you.”

His words and grounding presence wrapped around me, allowing a fragile relief to snake through my core. I clung to it with both hands as I forced deep, steadying inhales and exhales.

“I’m alive,” I chanted over and over as my hands fell to fist in the material of his pants. “I’m okay. Somehow.”

The last word was whispered like a prayer, unsure of who I was even sending it to.

“Archangels are retreating! Pursue them!”

“Wyverns, close ranks! Box them in!”

The sudden shift on the battlefield had my heart skipping a beat and clutching Gabe harder.

I guess the battle didn’t stop for miracles to occur.

Hope lit up within my chest once more as I struggled to push to my feet, hating the helpless sensation of laying against the ground, my position vulnerable.

Steel clashed against steel. Wyverns dove in synchronized units overhead in their pursuit.

I knew Gabe would protect me, but my instincts roared at me to get us both to our feet. His hands were steady and firm on my waist as he stood against my back, still unwilling to let go of me.

“She’s alive!” Gabe yelled at the guys defending us, knowing they were far too busy to glance back and see what was happening.

My throat was suddenly thick with emotion at the thought of how hard they were fighting, even with thinking I’d been slain. The agony and heartbreak they were carrying.

Ronan appeared through the haze first, dirt streaked across his jaw and chest heaving. Fury burned in his eyes at first, but when they fell on me, everything changed. Rage quickly gave way to a parted mouth that sharply inhaled as his eyes widened in relief.

He closed the distance between us, sandwiching me between himself and Gabe.

“Beauty,” he muttered, voice hoarse as his hand lifted to trace down my cheek in reverence. “I watched that bastard cut your throat. How–”

Before I could respond, an Alfemir soldier dove toward us and I was yanked back by Gabe. Ronan immediately surged upward, shadows bursting ahead of him, blade flashing as he met the threat head-on.

His roar ripped through the air to the angels joining our fight in droves. “Drive them back! Don’t let a single one through!”

My breath hitched at the sight of Alfemir angels joining us. Had my words truly gotten through to them, or was seeing my father slice my throat open what tipped them to our side? Whatever it was, it accomplished a task I never thought could happen.

Overhead, a darker shadow swept across the field, dragging my focus to his vast wings that blotted out the crowded sky.

Niz. His large wyvern form tore through the smoke, black and green scales gleaming like wet stone, acid spilling from his jaws in a stream that melted armor and flesh alike.

Soldiers scattered beneath him, their screams swallowed by the hiss of dissolving steel.

I blinked at him, in complete awe of his enormous body cutting a wide arc above the execution platform. My mind stuttered as his beady eyes met mine, and I swore I saw his relief rippling through his scales as they shifted.

Smoke and shouting pressed in from every side, the fight moving too fast to track as my mind felt weighed down with exhaustion and disbelief.

Gabe’s arm cinched tighter around me as my legs began to tremble.

The touch dragged my gaze back down from the sky, away from Niz’s shadow blotting out the field.

Bastian appeared suddenly and without warning. Blood coated his fingers, his grin sharp enough to draw focus first instead of how badly he shook. His stained hand brushed clumsily against my cheek, leaving a streak of someone else’s blood across my skin.

“Darling,” he rasped, his voice breaking on the word. “You’ve never looked better. Breathing suits you.” His signature smirk turned to a scowl with a single breath. “I love your blood, but not when it’s spilled by someone else.”

The grief in his tone made me want to wrap him in my arms. To tell him I hadn’t chosen this and that I’d fought to come back, but the words wouldn’t form. My throat felt too raw and thick with my own emotions at the thought of almost dying and being ripped from them.