I scowled back.
He streaked upward like a missile, and his movement defied gravity.
I shivered at his little display of insane power.
From what I’d seen of the angels in the Legionnaire Games, there was nothing like them in all the realms. Wind fae could sustain flight but only for minutes at a time before it depleted them.
Other species had wings, but no other sentient creature could fly. Not like they could.
The angels were unique.
They were built to rule the skies.
Lying spread-eagle on the rocky shore while my best friend gagged a few feet away, I was hyperaware of how different I was from the angels.
What would it feel like to be so powerful that you could defy the laws of physics?
You could see it in the way the angel legion walked, with their chins pointed up and noses in the air, they knew they were better than everyone else. Leagues ahead. They were a species that was more myth than reality.
In every realm angels were synonymous with the gods.
The rocks beneath me dug into my enchanted wounds as blood continued to seep from the multitude of stitches I’d pulled.
I was a lowly ice fae.
I’d known the truth from the first second my back had cracked beneath Mother’s wounds—I wasn’t all-powerful like Sadie.
Was the feeling of strength euphoric? Maybe that was why I was depressed?
I was weak.
Above, an angel swooped downward with their wings expanded wide as they thrust their seven-foot sword straight in the air. Flames jumped off the blue ice.
I wished I had a paintbrush and artistic talent, to capture the moment of ice against clouds.
It was glorious.
How could they not be the chosen generals for the war? They were the perfect awe-inspiring symbol for the masses. A physical representation of hope and beauty.
The angels were proof that there was a greater civilization to be had. A more majestic one.
I’d follow the angels into battle.
Goose bumps erupted across my skin because I had a feeling I’d live to experience it.
“Okay, I’m good,” Sadie panted unconvincingly as she ambled over to leer down at me. “Let’s walk around the perimeter of the island. I need a cooldown.”
I shook my head and closed my eyes. “We can’t. I have to stay in proximity to the kings.”
Silence.
My eyes shot open as I realized what I’d inadvertently revealed.
Sadie’s catlike features seemed sharper as she asked softly, “Why can’t you leave their proximity, Aran?”
I sighed.
Pulled my pipe from my pocket and pressed it between my lips.
I held both hands up in the air in the universal “calm down” gesture. “No need to freak out.”
Sadie smiled. “Oh, I’m calm.”
Horse cawed and shot up. He streaked away toward where the angels sparred, like he was afraid of Sadie.
I sighed and tried to give off calm energy.
“Remember that life takes different paths for different people.” I chose my words carefully. “And some paths may seem more oppressive or unfair from a certain perspective. But it all works out in the end.” I pursed my lips as I thought about it. “Maybe. Probably not. But let’s just say for argument’s sake that it does.”
Sadie’s white hair whipped back and forth in the wind. Her ruby eyes glowed, and the outline of a saber-toothed tiger shimmered around her as she asked, “And has it all worked out for you?”
She smiled, and it wasn’t a friendly expression.
This was exactly why I could never find the right moment to tell her.
I blew out a smoking gun. Pop. The smoke bullet poofed harmlessly off my forehead.
“No, Sadie, it obviously hasn’t,” I said sarcastically.
“You have five seconds to explain, or I’m going to leap to”—a low rumbling roar rattled her chest—“some terrible conclusions.”
I studied my cuticles.
Clucked my tongue.
Pursed my lips and blew out a raspberry.
Sighed.
“ARAN, EXPLAIN!” Sadie alpha-barked.
I scoffed and watched an angel spread her wings and spiral on a column of air. “I’m not a shifter. That doesn’t work on me.”
Horse mimicked the angel’s movement on the breeze. He spun out of control, and I gave him a thumbs-up.
I inhaled smoke.
Sadie snatched the pipe from my lips and held it in the air. “Explain or I’ll snap it.”
I stilled. “You wouldn’t.”
The outline of foot-long teeth flickered on her face. “Don’t test me.” I’m pretty sure that was a new thing for her.
I hit my head backward so my skull knocked satisfyingly against the rocks. “You’re such a cunt.”
“Aran,” Sadie warned and grabbed the pipe with both hands.
“Aren’t you supposed to be all tired and exhausted after”—I held up two fingers and made air quotes—“running?”
The rumbling noise in her chest intensified.
“Fine, I’ll tell you.” I caved. “Give me the pipe first.”
“No.” Sadie bared her teeth. “Tell me and I’ll give you the pipe.”
I hit my head harder as I tried to stall. “Sun god, you don’t have to be such a bitch about it.”
Sadie bent my pipe between her hands.
“Simmer down.” I winced as I ambled to my feet and sighed heavily. “You want to know the truth?”
Sadie bent my pipe until it was in a U shape.
I closed my eyes and got it all over with.
“My-father-is-Lothaire-and-he-made-me-get-a-tattoo-on-my-hip-that-enslaves-me-to-the-kings-so-I-can’t-leave-their-presence-without-pain.”
Sadie blinked, and her shoulders lowered. “Was that so hard?”
I narrowed my eyes.
Her posture was relaxed.
She seemed calm.
I snatched the pipe from her hands and inhaled greedily. “I’m surprised you’re taking it so well. I was afraid to tell you because, you know, sometimes you can be a little…” I spun my finger in the air around my ear.
“I don’t know what you mean?” Sadie smiled.
I rubbed at the back of my neck with chagrin. “You’re right. I forgot that between the two of us, you’re the pleasant one.”
She chuckled.
“Sorry for projecting,” I said as I felt like a fool for waiting so long to tell her.
Sadie smiled bigger. “Yep, I’m the happy friend, and you’re the grumpy friend. That’s why we work.”
I nodded and twirled my pipe between my lips and tried to change the topic. “So what do you want to do now?”
Sadie turned slowly and faced where both our teams were lifting boulders. “I want to return the favor.”
I paused, my pipe dangling from my lips.
Sadie rolled up her sleeve and dug her fingernails into her forearm. The blood coagulated into a ball and hovered in the air, and her ruby eyes glowed so brightly it was hard to look at her.
Her spine straightened.
Her posture wasn’t natural, and I knew without a doubt what she’d done.
The bitch had flipped the switch in her brain that she called the numb. The one that made her an emotionless killing machine.
“Come on,” I whined and stomped my foot. “Don’t do this. This is why I didn’t want to tell you things!”