FALLING TO PIECES
Apricity (noun): the warmth of sun in winter.
DAY 22, HOUR 8
I woke up to lilac morning light clutching the Necklace of Death.
My first thought—I’m going to learn how to fly today.
A strange dream about falling snow, vibrations, and glowing light teased the edges of my consciousness, but it drifted away into nothingness.
I shrugged it off.
Sadly, hallucinations were not uncommon with my lifestyle.
Once as a child, I’d had a string of dreams that I’d been abducted and probed by an alien creature from a faraway realm. Mother had slapped me when I’d told her.
There were two types of people in the world: those who were probed, and those who judged those who were probed. The latter were all secretly jealous that no one had abducted them.
My eyes struggled to adjust to the morning light.
I groaned and rolled out of bed.
Since I had no other plans for the days (other than annoy Malum), I might as well get some flying practice in.
There were wings in my shoulders and angel blood in my veins, and I was going to get airborne if it was the last thing I did. If not for myself, then I would do it to spite Mother.
It was time to succeed.
“I’m going to practice flying behind the barracks. I want to do this alone.” I announced to the room.
Malum paused his one-handed push-ups. “Don’t go too far. I don’t want to see you hurt.” His voice was extra gravelly in the morning, and I shivered at its deepness. Silver skulls twinkled in his ears, and he didn’t have socks on, so my name was on full display.
He’d 100 percent done it on purpose.
I flipped him off with both hands, just for fun.
He winked. “Don’t tempt me.”
I put my hands down as I realized what he meant.
Ugh, he was infuriating.
John and Luka groaned loudly as they woke up, and I smiled because they were not morning people. I was also not a morning person—or a night person, or a day person.
“Wait,” Scorpius said as he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Orion followed behind him, similarly unclothed, toweling his blond hair.
They’d been showering together.
There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room, and I didn’t know where to look.
Scorpius smirked, and my eyes trailed downward.
He looked like he was carved from white marble. His Adonis belt glistened with water, and his dark hair was wet and messy around his face.
The two of them sauntered past me. Cherry blossoms fluttered down Orion’s golden biceps, and Scorpius’s neck tattoo opened, pupil expanding as it stared directly at me.
Their tattoos were much more brightly colored than I’d ever remembered.
I’d always though Orion’s flowers were a pale shade, closer to white. Now they were such a rich pink that they practically glowed against his golden skin.
He was mesmerizing to look at.
They both were.
I forgot what I was doing.
What was my name?
How old was I?
The pain streaking down my back turned into fireworks.
“Distracted, Aran?” John asked in a teasing tone, and his voice brought me back to reality.
My face warmed as I realized I’d been gaping at the half-naked kings like an idiot.
I wasn’t mad about objectifying them because I was a staunch supporter of bullying men. Everyone knew this. It was just a little embarrassing that my entire legion had just witnessed me ogle my enemies.
At least the twins were also checking them out.
“We got these for you,” Scorpius said as he dug into one of the mall bags beside his bed. His towel dipped dangerously low, and my blood pressure soared.
He stood up and handed me fuzzy black mittens.
“Wear them if you’re going outside,” Scorpius said, his tone somewhere between an order and a plea.
I stared at the gloves, dumbfounded.
“Here.” Orion gently tugged them onto my hands. My fingers were engulfed in warmth as my stomach filled with butterflies.
I turned my hands over.
“Ara” was written in tiny gold script across the wrist.
My throat was dry, and I forgot how to swallow as I looked at it with confusion.
“Why Ara?” I asked. “Did the embroiderer make a mistake?”
“No,” Orion whispered, the words like honey on his tongue. “It wasn’t a mistake.”
Malum looked up from the floor with confusion. “Wait, it wasn’t an error?” Scorpius narrowed his eyes.
I stared at Orion and waited for an explanation.
None came.
“You’ll figure it out,” he whispered as he took a step closer.
Bergamot and chocolate filled my nose, and pain streaked down my spine.
Orion’s golden abdominal muscles rippled as he stretched his hands above his head, and Scorpius’s chiseled chest expanded as he breathed deeply.
What were we talking about?
I wet my lips twice and croaked out, “Uh, okay.”
Scorpius took a step closer. “You’re welcome for the gloves, Arabella.” His voice had a cruel tilt to it, like was really saying “get on your knees.”
His cheekbones glinted like cut diamonds.
Suddenly, I liked my men mean.
“Um, th-thanks?” I stuttered.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Orion whispered with wide eyes as Scorpius smiled like I’d made him proud. Together they were exquisite. Divine.
The bursts of pain down my back ratcheted up to another level as I admired the nude men and my fuzzy black mittens.
“I picked out the color,” Malum grumbled mid-push-up.
“No one cares.” I tried to flip him off, but the mitten made it look like I was waving.
I put my hand down with defeat and purposefully avoided making eye contact, or ab contact, with anyone. I announced to the room with determination, “I’m going to stay close and practice in the woods so the bond sickness doesn’t act up, but I want to do this alone—anyone who interrupts will get punched in the throat. I’ll be back when I’ve learned to fly.”
Vegar drawled from his bunk bed, “So—never?”
I glared at the demon. “That was hurtful and unnecessary.”
“Oh darn.” He rolled over in his bed.
I stalked out into the light snowfall. Muttering about stupid men, I stomped around the side of the barracks to a space where the towering pines would conceal me.
The morning was overwhelmingly bright.
I tipped my head back and gaped. They sky had changed overnight from gray to a glittering lavender.
It was stunning.
Green pine needles coated in ice sparkled like emeralds in the overcast sky. Lilac colors refracted through the snowy forest.
I basked in the colors.
Then I frowned.
It was too stunning. Was this what the realm had always looked like? Was my vision that bad? Why had it changed overnight?
My skull ached as I thought about.
I shook my head and concentrated on the task at hand—I was going to prove Vegar wrong. The change in my vision was a problem for another day.
There were wings on my back.
I was an angel.
It was time to fly.
That was what was important.
With newfound determination, and cute fluffy mittens on my hands, I took off my coat and thermal shirt. Folding them neatly in a pile, I ignored the goose bumps that exploded across my exposed skin as I flexed my thighs.
For once, the cold was barely noticeable.
The day felt mild.
I bent down.
Crystals clattered and air whooshed as I splayed my wings.
Cartilage and bones snapped deliciously as I shook the unused appendages and gritted my teeth.
Ignoring their heavy weight, I bent my head low and remembered Knox’s instructions. I flexed my back muscles. My boots sank into the warm dirt, and steam heated my ankles as my upper body shivered.
Everything faded away as I concentrated on the will coursing through me.
I was going to fly.
My wings spread wide, and I flexed my back muscles as I pushed upward with everything I had.
Nothing happened, but I didn’t let it deter me.
I was going to be smart about this.
My wings disappeared as I pulled them back inside me, and I rolled my neck, stretching and trying to loosen up. I wasn’t going to exhaust myself needlessly.
After I mentally and physically recovered, I withdrew my heavy wings and tried again.
I had this.
Hours later, I collapsed onto my knees with exhaustion and heaved. The cartilage in my wings felt frozen stiff, and it hurt to retract them.
I’d leave them out, just for a few more moments.
My heart pounded erratically, and my breath was loud and uneven as I choked on the snow-drenched air.
Of course, since I was cursed with misfortune, a few minutes into practicing, the blizzard conditions had returned.
A storm had raged continually since.
Now the snow slammed against me in a punishing blur, and my teeth chattered uncontrollably. Visibility was nonexistent.
The world was a vortex of white and gray.
I was bone tired.
I’d never felt so cold.
Crystal wings clattered together as their heavy weight tipped me forward, and I sprawled face first into the pile of snow that had accumulated on the frozen ground where I’d been standing.
The morning light through the clouds was long gone, and the forest was frozen with extreme cold. The blizzard had kicked up a notch.
It was a whiteout.
Sun god, I hated the realm’s temperamental weather.
I turned my neck awkwardly to the side and looked up at the towering pines. They’d frozen completely solid in the storm and were covered in white. Disturbingly sharp icicles hung menacingly off their branches.
Were the trees dead?
Was I dead?
My curls were uncomfortably stiff, plastered against my neck and back. They’d frozen solid with sweat.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
Did time even exist?
Delirium and existential dread clouded my thoughts. Never a good sign.
Gums burning from breathing harshly in the cold wind, I tasted copper on my tongue and moaned pitifully into the snowbank beneath me. Snowflakes sprayed.
I tried to push myself up.
I searched for the determination that had spurned me forward, but it was gone. There was nothing left to give.
For hours, I’d heaved as I spread my wings wide and flexed unused shoulder muscles. For hours—I’d failed.
My feet never left the ground.
At one point, I was so demoralized I jumped up just so I could pretend that I’d flown an inch. My wings were so heavy I’d stumbled and slammed into a tree.
A humbling experience.
It would have been disheartening if I hadn’t already hit rock bottom. Good thing I was already there.
At least my fingers were warm.
The mittens worked amazingly. They were clearly enchanted because the temperature inside them had increased as I’d gotten colder.
Toasty-warm fingers felt like such a luxury, especially since I was lying half-dead in a snowbank. A part of me recognized I should try to move, and there was something crucial I needed to do.
But my thoughts were sluggish.
The snow seemed to fall in slow motion. The storm was pretty, in a violent, terrifying sort of way.
Exhaustion melted into sleepiness. I just wanted to curl up and embrace the stillness.
Crystals clattered as the wind gusted.
The longer I lay in the snow, the more moving seemed like a ridiculous endeavor. Snow was soft and pillowy. It had a nice cushion.
I closed my eyes, content to take a nap.
Time passed.
“You idiot!” Malum shouted with agitation. He said more things, but I purposefully stopped listening as soon as I heard his voice.
“Pull your wings in.” John’s dark eyes were wide with concern as he knelt in the snow. “Pull your wings in right now, Aran, or I swear to the sun god I will spank you.”
I grinned up at him.
Postexhaustion endorphins made me see double. Two of his heads blurred in front of me—one of them had dimples, and the other didn’t.
The head without dimples grabbed my cheeks forcefully and ordered, “Pull your wings in now.” His sentence was short and clipped like he was vibrating with rage. “Do this now or I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again.” He reminded me of a man I’d once known named Luka.
John shook me and yelled, “Retract your wings!”
I focused on my cramped shoulder blades. There was a pulling sensation, then the heavy crushing weight disappeared. I sighed. My lungs expanded greedily.
I blinked.
The frowning man carried me while John held my hand.
Malum stalked beside us, scowling. “You gave yourself fucking frostbite.” Flames shot from his mouth.
“You look like a dragon,” I pointed out helpfully.
Silver eyes became molten with rage.
I blinked.
Time warped.
I was lying in a tub, and hot water poured over me from above. John was lying beneath me, and Luka was kneeling off to the side, scowling as he leaned over and wiped my face with a hot washcloth.
He gently scraped off layers of ice.
The cloth was deliciously warm, even hotter than the warm water.
Luka pulled back and held up the cloth to Malum’s flaming hands, and shades of scarlet danced off bronze fingers.
For a second, I was hypnotized by the richness of the color. I’d never seen anything so vibrant. Even Malum’s skin had warm undertones that I’d never picked up on before.
Everything became hazy as the tub heated.
Steam sizzled off my skin as water melted ice, and I sighed. It was surprisingly unpainful. I craved the warmth.
“I’m so angry with you,” Malum said. “You’re lucky Scorpius and Orion had to go take care of some business today.” His voice strummed with anger as he knelt next to the tub. “I know my mates, and if they saw you like this—they’d also be furious about you hurting yourself. Especially Scorpius.”
Darkness expanded around Luka, and he made a harsh noise in the back of his throat. “Careful how you speak to her,” he threatened.
Malum continued like he was unbothered by Luka’s threats. “Lucky for you, I’m so fucking angry that I can’t stand to be around you right now because I’ll burn this realm to the ground.”
As if to punctuate his point, he stormed out of the bathroom.
John’s hands traced up and down my forearms comfortingly, and I focused on the soothing motion.
I fell asleep.
I woke up and two menacing shadows towered over my bed.
“Malum said he found you frozen in a snowbank, half-dead from exhaustion.” Scorpius leaned forward and invaded the narrow space of my bunk.
Orion stood behind him, and his brown eyes were narrowed into slits.
Silver skulls glinted in both their ears like bad omens.
I’d never seen them so angry.
“Leave me alone, I’m tired.”
Spicy bergamot and burned chocolate filled my senses. Their scents were harsher than usual.
The bunk bed above me rattled as the twins shifted in their sleep.
White teeth glinted as Scorpius bared his teeth. His voice was deadly as he said, “We’ll talk about this in the shower. You will explain yourself.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Don’t test me, Arabella,” Scorpius sneered, and Orion scowled in agreement. “I’m not as civilized as I pretend to be.”
The men who’d been opening up to me were gone. Had they ever existed?
They shifted and came into focus.
I blinked in horror.
They were covered head to toe in streaks of blood.
Was this a nightmare? Was I imagining them?
“Let’s go. Get up and get in the shower. You have ten seconds, or you’ll be punished,” Scorpius ordered.
I stared at him in disbelief.
The scent of copper intensified in the air, like a dark omen.
“Is this a joke?” I asked groggily. “Are you real?”
Scorpius’s blind eyes widened with mania. He bared his teeth. “Do you want to find out how much I’m not joking?”
I was 98 percent sure that they were figments of my exhausted imagination.
I pushed my covers aside and rolled out of bed. I groaned softly.
The two kings towered above me like angry gods.
Scorpius smirked viciously as they walked together to the bathroom and waited for me.
“Crawl for us,” Scorpius snarled. Orion stood silently next to him.
Definitely a nightmare.
“Fuck you,” I whispered.
Scorpius smiled cruelly. “That can be arranged. Crawl. Now.”
I purposefully didn’t move.
Long minutes passed as we glared at each other, neither budging.
Slowly, I inched forward across the hard floor.
Finally, I stopped at their feet.
They whispered something that sounded remorseful, but my ears had whited out and I wasn’t listening.
I punched out both of their knees, and they slammed to the ground beside me.
“Fuck you both,” I gloated. My plan had worked.
I waited for them to retaliate.
Their expressions were oddly emotional for nightmares.
I tried to stand up, but my arms trembled from the strain. Hands gently grabbed beneath my armpits.
They pulled me up.
Well, this was a confusing nightmare.
Scorpius carried me into the bathroom, and Orion started running the shower.
Moments later, fully clothed, the three of us were squeezed together in the small shower.
“Tell us everything that happened today. Please,” Orion whispered as he pressed himself flush against my back.
Pressure twisted in my sternum because dreams were usually disconnected from the day’s events.
Holy sun god—was this real?
