Wings of Spring

Chapter Twelve

Hanna

The soft sounds of rustling awaken me. Footsteps pounding through the ground near my head. The sighing of clothes rubbing together. The crack of a twig under a heavy boot. I sit up and lift the flap of my rough tent. A winged figure bends over my cache of food, shoveling the stew I had been cooking into its mouth. I slide out of my tent on silent feet and approach the male. He turns, his eyes wide. Anger wells up inside of me. This is my food, my hard work. Lashing out, I grab the young Illyrian by the throat.

I watch my fingers curl around the neck of the young male in front of me. His brown eyes widen in fear. I squeeze tighter and tighter until it seems his eyes will bulge from their sockets. The male makes choking sounds, his breath coming in ragged gasps, as he claws desperately at my hands and arms with his own blood-crusted nails.

My initial fury morphs into something akin to pleasure as his struggles grow weaker and weaker, as the life slowly drains from his eyes. The rasps from his crushed throat gasp out in shallower and shallower breaths. His eyes widen even further as I press my hands tighter against his throat until the dirty nails scratching at me make one final attempt to push me away.

His eyes glaze over and focus on the sky above as his legs give one final spasm and he falls dead under my hands. The moment the male's last breath leaves his chest, the realisation of what just happened hits me like a punch to the gut. Horror and shame flood through me. I drop the body and push it away.

Tears leak from my eyes as I stare down at the young Illyrian male in front of me. His bound wings shine in the light of my dying fire. I push his body to the edge of the clearing and slink back into my tent, shivering. My appetite is gone. I spend the rest of the night staring at my hands in horror, sobs racking my body. "What have I done? What have I done?"

I wake up with a gasp, my breathing ragged. Firelight flickers across the stone ceiling of the room. Pain lances through my head as I turn to look towards the source of light. I see a torch through the small window high on the door... a cell then.

The back of my head throbs. I try to sit up, but the room spins. I reach for the mating bond, but I feel nothing. No bridge between our minds, no emotions other than my own rising panic, and no... Tamlin. A choked sob escapes my throat as tears leak down my cheeks.

I piercing scream echoes off the stones, sending a shiver down my spine. I pull myself into a sitting position, every muscle in my body protesting the movement. Trying to calm my racing thoughts, I lean against the stone wall. My wings ache from several scrapes on them. I will myself to my feet, stretching out my wings. Bile rises in my throat, and I race to a corner of my cell and empty my stomach into the bucket there.

I return to the middle of the cell, pushing down my panic. It won't do me any good. I need to get out of this place, and I won't do that if I don't remain calm. The movements are awkward, but I slide into the familiar pattern of my basic warm-up exercises. The soreness in my body melts away as I move. My mind stills. I lean against the wall, panting, with a small, satisfied smile. Good job, Hanna. Now, listen and gather information.

I allow my senses to extend past the cell. I hear the sounds of sobbing and groans of pain. The hushed voices of guards, the crackling of torches, the rustling of armor, the grinding of a weapon sharpening stone. The scents of waste, fear, sweat, and strange food reaches my nose. A new sound reaches my ears over the other sounds of the dungeon. Casual, strolling footsteps.

That scent again... that foul, rotting stench permeates the air. Primal, raw terror pulses through me. I rise to my feet again, bracing myself against the wall. Black eyes peek at me through the bars on my door. A feral smile spreads across that flawless face.

I seal my mind off as the locks click open. The strange male enters the cell, leaning casually against the doorway. He gives me an appreciative glance, his gaze roving up and down my body. That sinister smile widens.

"You're a pretty one, aren't you?" His voice is hollow and smug and full of an ancient malice. I swallow my fear down.

I fold my own arms across my chest. I plaster an arrogant grin on my own face, despite the terror roaring through me. "Every male who sees me thinks that will work on me. I know I'm beautiful. Too bad the same can't be said for you."

The male grins wider. "Your tongue is sharp. I wonder how you would fare without it."

I roll my eyes with false bravado. "Is this going to be a monologue where you threaten unending torment on me? I've heard it all before. You're here for some nefarious purpose, I will suffer anguish beyond anything in my imagination, so on and so forth. Am I missing anything?"

The grin lowers into a deathly glare. "Watch your tongue, young Illyrian, or lose it. I only have so much patience for your quips."

I pretend to examine my nails, wrinkling my nose at the dirt underneath of them. "Yes, yes. I know, I know. What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

A humorless, icy chuckle freezes my blood. "I came to examine you, my prize, my new pet. It was hard to get to you with that pesky High Lord always mooning over you."

Tamlin. "I don't even know who the hell you are... what you are."

The male laughs again. "It is unimportant. You are here to serve a purpose, and that is all you need to know."

I shrug and examine my nails once more. I hope that this... thing cannot hear my heart galloping in my chest. "What a breath of fresh air! Finally, a bad guy that isn't going to spill his master plan."

"I sense your fear, little warrior," the male coos. "It will take over eventually, and I will be waiting to watch you break when it does."

I force myself to stare into those empty eyes and lift my chin. "You won't break me."

The male approaches me, stopping an arm's length from me. A pale hand reaches out and strokes my cheek. I shiver with revulsion at the contact. His eyes moved down my body, stopping on my midsection. "Oh, I think I will. And it will be so much fun."

My hand instinctively covers my belly. The creature's breath tickles my face as he chuckles. He turns and exits the cell, the door slamming behind him. I sink to the floor, hiding my face in my hands. This is much worse than I thought.

Tamlin... I beg the silent bond. Tamlin, please, hurry and find me. We need your help.