Page 80 of Forging Darkness
And there it is. The truth about Silver that he’s been reluctant to tell me, and the very same thing the Nephilim refuse to believe.
“If what you’re saying is true, and Silver retained enough about herself during the merge to still be herself, then what is she doing here with you, fighting a war against her own family who searched for her for years? A family who mourned and loved her. Why would she choose to fight on your side?”
Thorne leans back, running two fingers back and forth across his bottom lip.
“She has her reasons, but they’re hers to tell. If you’re brave enough, you can ask her yourself. She’s back.”
That was fast. I wonder if she’s been gone the full four days, or just avoiding me?
My body hates me for it, but I lean forward until I’m sitting upright. Gritting my teeth, I start the painful process of standing. Thorne makes a movement toward me, but I hold up a hand. I don’t want to be touched right now. I don’t want to be touched byhim.
“I’d like to return to my cell now.”
“It’s not a cell, it’s your room.”
“It’s not my room until I’m free to come and go as I please.”
Thorne regards me for a minute, a look of contemplation on his face. “You’re being difficult on purpose,” he states. “I don’t think I like it.”
I have the instant urge to stick my tongue out like a petulant teenager, but rein myself in. “I really don’t care what you like right now.”
Thorne’s gaze follows me as I hobble to the other side of the bed. The wings weigh heavily on my back. The ends scrape along the ground with each labored step, grinding against the stone floor. I don’t even care about setting anything in Thorne’s room on fire, I just don’t have the energy to force the change back.
When I reach the wall on the other side of the bed, I start pushing random spots, trying to get the doorway to appear once again.
“Stupid thing,” I mumble under my breath. “Where are you?”
I scan the cracks and crevices along the wall but can’t find an outline for a door anywhere.
Thorne’s hand reaches out from behind me and presses against a non-descript stone. A panel of the wall groans, recesses, and then slides to the left. The slab rides along a track embedded in the floor, and when I duck my head through the opening, I find gears and pulleys rigged on the ceiling.
I limp forward and start down the narrow set of stairs.
“Let me just carry you down.”
Oh, now he wants to be chivalrous?
I ignore Thorne and keep going. My lower back aches like it’s broken, even though technically it’s at least somewhat put back together now. My knee is swollen, and the cuts and gashes over my body sting like a thousand fire ant bites. But I wouldn’t accept his help right now if my life depended on it.
He growls with frustration and shifts his wings, but doesn’t try to touch me.
What feels like eighteen days later, I finally make it to the next floor. Of course there’s no visible door, so I have to wait for Thorne to push the magic spot on the wall to get it open.
The room Thorne locks me in is just down the hall, and I speed-hobble toward it faster than anyone should want to get back to their jail cell. At the moment I don’t even care that I’m going to be bolted inside, I just want to find the bed and sleep for a year. My body needs the rest in order to regenerate and heal.
Flinging open the door, I shuffle to the side of the bed, but wait for Thorne to leave before falling into it.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, but I know he’s still there. I can feel his stare heating the back of my neck. Pulling my wings up and together, I flare them slightly to shield me from his gaze.
“Are you angry . . . about the training this morning?”
Among other things, I want to say, but keep my mouth shut. I want to be left alone.
The sigh he releases sounds labored and drained. In my mind’s eye, he swipes a tired hand down his face before rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s just our way. We don’t stop to put Band-Aids on cuts and check to make sure our opponent is all right because we aren’t afforded that luxury outside these walls. It is a kindness to push each other to be our best. To learn to use our strengths and beat our weaknesses out of each other so our enemies don’t do it for us.”
He ruffles his wings; the feathers brushing against one another sounds like blades rubbing. He waits for me to say something . . . anything.