Page 73 of Forging Darkness

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Page 73 of Forging Darkness

“It was a bad one.”

I throw an icy look over my shoulder, warning him against continuing this conversation. As usual, he ignores me.

“It’s just—” His hand scrapes through his hair another time. He’s going to bald himself if he keeps that up. “I thought we could do this, I really did. But I was wrong. We’re no match for this amount of Fallen and Forsaken. They’re organized like we’ve never seen them before.”

“I don’t plan on fighting the lot of them.”

“See, that’s the problem. You don’t plan. It’s been this way for as long as I can remember, but especially these last few months. When the twins went missing, you struck out on your own looking for Silver and almost got yourself killed. Now you’re about to do it again. You’re going to get yourself in some serious trouble. You’re going to get others hurt. When are you going to learn you don’t have anything to prove?”

I squeeze my hands into fists, and even though we’re still in the mortal world, I feel a beastly growl crawling up my throat.

I stomp up to Greyson, crowding him and pushing him back a step with a chest bump. I’m only an inch taller than my brother, but I use it to my advantage, going nose to nose with him.

“This isn’t about proving anything. It’s about protecting the people I lo—” I choke on the next word, having almost said something I can’t take back. “It’s not about that, and you know it.”

“You’re so damn arrogant to think you can always do it on your own.”

“I have to,” I roar in his face.

“No you don’t!” Taking a step forward, he shoves into my chest, but I refuse to concede. There’s a fire in Grey’s eyes I don’t often see. “We’re not lone wolves. The angel-born rely on each other—it’s been that way for millennia, since the days of The Great Revolt. If we didn’t band together back then, we’d all still be enslaved by the Fallen. We’re more powerful as a group than individuals. When will you see that?”

Grey and I stand tall. Anger has elevated our breathing, and we huff air in and out of our lungs. Our jaws grind and hands clench as we restrain ourselves from using fists instead of words.

This isn’t an argument he can win, but he’s never going to understand why—at least, I hope he never learns the truth.

“I’m not explaining myself to you.”

The noise that comes from Grey’s chest might be a self-deprecating laugh. “Why do I even try? You’re Steel Durand. What could anyone ever teach you that you don’t already know?” He shakes his head.

It’s not like that. At least not completely. But there’s no way to explain my motives to my brother without carving into my chest and laying my innards out for him to see.

I curl my lip in a snarl, trying to force his retreat.

The door behind Grey slams open, and Sterling walks in, another energy drink in one hand and a half-eaten sandwich in the other. He starts talking around a red piece of licorice hanging from his lips.

“Hey guys, I found some good possible—” He freezes when he catches us posturing in the middle of the room. “What’s going on?”

Grey’s gaze narrows, but he finally breaks eye contact and turns his back to me. His stride is stiff as he walks away.

“Nothing but the usual,” he says to Sterling before he leaves the room, slamming the door in his wake.

“What did you do this time?” Sterling’s tone is mocking, but I see real concern etched across his brow.

“Sterling,” I warn, wiping a weary hand down my face.

“Think he’s gonna go tell Mom?”

Dang, I must be tired because I don’t care if he does. “Just tell me what you got, man. And make it fast. I need to get on the road.”

* * *

My eagle form slices through the air, cutting along icy currents. The spirit realm night sky is bruised purple, reddish stars winking through the dark. My vision is superior to the average angel-born in this form, so I don’t mind the lack of light as I search for signs of life below.

I’m making good time. It’s deep into the night, several hours since I took off, but I’m already northwest of Montreal. Tinkle transformed into a hawk and keeps pace with me easily. Unlike me, he can speak in his animal form, but he’s only given a few updates since we left, all of them to let me know he hasn’t picked up anything. If I were to put money on it, I don’t think the Fallen fortress is this far south, but I keep my gaze sharp, just in case.

The Laurentian Mountains aren’t any more like the Swiss Alps than the Rockies, but my mind can’t help drifting back in time as I soar over peaks and valleys.

“Steel! It’s getting dark. Should we go home?”




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