A Breath of Sunlight Page 4

  Calle’s legs shook as he attempted to keep his feet underneath him. The effort became too much, and he collapsed. Arlo dragged him like a rag doll. Veins bulged out of the brawny muscles in his arms and his neck. The fury painted on the man’s face rivaled Liam’s.

  Arlo hauled him into a cavern filled with lanterns. Calle blinked against the sudden brightness. The man shoved him onto the ground. He barely had enough strength to push himself to his hands and knees, but not enough to reach for the pickaxe tucked into his waistband to defend himself with. Other men followed and watched with caution as if awaiting orders from their superior.

  “Why is it...” Arlo started as he crossed the cavern and grabbed several whips off a shelf, “...that you are the only male slave still alive?”

  He shook his head in desperation. No sound escaped his mouth as he stared at the whips. Save me from this fate. Please.

  But the man kept advancing, the end of one whip trailing on the ground. In a sudden movement, Arlo cracked the whip against Calle’s back. A blinding pain shot through him, followed by his own scream.

  He clenched his fists to endure the pain, but it never ceased.

  “S-s-sir,” another man stuttered. “He must have hidden. The valkyries attacked during supper.”

  “Quiet!” Arlo roared. “Unless you want to join him.”

  When no one else protested, the slave master proceeded to hand out the remaining whips. “The Sun King has instructed us to keep him alive as long as possible. I think it’s been long enough. I want you to whip him until he dies. But make it slow. I want him to feel every lash.”

  He only barely recovered from the crashing wave of the first lash when the second cracked across his back. Another cry left his lips. Black dots swirled on the edges of his vision. He wished the valkyrie woman had killed him. He couldn’t endure this again.

  Another flash of pain struck him like a bolt of lightning, followed by another, until both his arms and legs gave out.

  Please, he silently begged for the pain to end.

  But he still lived.

  And he still breathed.

  The next whip snapped through the air, but instead of cracking against his back, it wrapped around a metal arm bracer. His dazed eyes attempted to focus on the figure in front of him. Long brown boots. A skirt longer in the back than in the front, and an armor-plated bodice that revealed two bare shoulders, a purple tattoo standing out on one of them.

  The white wings stood out in the dark cavern, and he couldn’t help but feel relief. The valkyries had returned to finish the job. Perhaps his pain and suffering would finally end.

  But instead of killing him, the valkyrie unraveled the whip around her bracer and whipped one of the slavers across the cheek. The next few moments were a blur of haze and wings as he struggled to stay conscious. She fought with ferocious speed, stabbing one man through the chest and slicing another across the throat.

  “Get up,” she ordered Calle.

  A blinding pain ripped through his back as he attempted to move. He only managed to push himself onto his hands and knees, but right when his body collapsed again, someone caught him under his arms.

  Angry shouts echoed behind him, and then his feet left the floor.

  Through his semi-conscious daze, he managed to creak his eyes open, only for a jolt of surprise to flash through him. The winged valkyrie held him in her arms as they flew through a maze of rock, weaved in and out of ravines, and then burst out of the Pits in a single, fluid movement.

  A rush of cool air hit his face, but as hard as he tried to keep his eyes open, his focus continued to melt into black.

  “I need you to hold onto me,” she said, her voice like honey trapping him in a warm embrace. The sound coaxed him a little further from the darkness. “You’re slipping.”

  His head rolled back as he tried to lift it, but finally, he opened his eyes enough to find her face inches from his. She gazed back at him with worried brown eyes. For a moment, he contemplated allowing her to drop him so he could fall to his quick and sudden death. Living was too hard. He didn’t want to suffer anymore.

  But somehow, he found the strength to lift one arm and wrap it around her slender shoulders. Her skin was soft, the surprise jolting him further into consciousness.

  And then his gaze drifted to the large wings spread out on either side of her.

  His eyes shot open, and he gasped when he noticed the golden sheen on white feathers. The color was unique—too unique to mistake.

  The shock caused his arm to slip, and they dipped several feet in her attempt to regain her hold of him. When they flew straight again, his mouth opened in disbelief. “Scarlett?”

  However, she only gave him a look of both confusion and distrust. “How many times did they whip you, fae slave?”

  He shook his head and scrutinized her once more. Golden strands lay in her dark brown hair, shimmering the same way as the gold on her wings. The brown eyes were familiar, as were her playful red lips.

  But as he opened his mouth to say more, he closed it again when she cast him yet another distrustful look.

  “Are you going to kill me?” he murmured.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  Her intense gaze shifted to stare ahead as she flew. “I don’t know.”

  Finally, he followed her gaze and inhaled sharply. The night sky spread out on either side of him, dark blue and filled with thousands of stars. A large forest lay on one side of the canvas, while a rocky plain lay on the other. They flew swiftly away from the horrors of the last six years of his life, and toward something completely foreign and beautiful.

  For a moment, he forgot his pain, his suffering, the many horrors he’d experienced. And he inhaled a breath of peace.

  He’d forgotten how beautiful the world could be.

  They flew for about fifteen minutes before she descended toward a series of high green cliffs. But the moment her feet touched the ground, it was as if she could no longer bear his weight and they collapsed together. He hissed when he landed on his side, but unlike before, the pain hardly deterred him.

  He was free.

  Oh, bless all valkyriekind. He was free.

  Once again, his gaze roamed to her wings as she tucked them behind her back. A harpy. Just like from the palace. He had to know... “Do you know my name?” he ventured, both terrified and hopeful at the same time.

  A dark cloud passed over her expression as her lips turned downward. She glared at him with fury in her eyes. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. This is your fault!” she shouted as she gestured to her arm.

  Blood smeared her forearm, seeping from a wound. She must have gotten hurt in their escape.

  “My fault?” He stood on shaky feet and pointed at her face. “I didn’t make you come back for me. That was your choice.”

  His throat felt raw from not using his voice for so long.

  Skaja, if he remembered correctly, paced back and forth across a long stretch of green grass before she stopped and ripped a piece of fabric from her underskirts. She tied it around her arm using one hand and her teeth.

  “Now they’re going to know I went back,” she growled, once again directing her glare at him. “Do you know what happens to valkyries who spare a man’s life?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “They’re thrown in the Cage. With a wild beast. I must once again prove myself as a loyal companion worthy of a position among my sisters.”

  “Why did you go back?”

  “I don’t know!” she shouted in reply. “I should have left your dirty carcass to the mercy of the slavers.”

  For what seemed like the dozenth time, he glanced at her wings. The gold shimmered beneath the moonlight. He’d known only two people with such wings—Avonia Svera...and her abducted daughter.

  He would move mountains for his dear friends who had tried to save him and Nyana from Liam. He would even risk his own life to find out the truth.

  “Try to kill me,” he goaded through his dry throat. “I bet you can’t do it even if I don’t lift a finger.”

  A frustrated war cry escaped her moments before she tackled him to the ground and raised a dagger. Pain flared in his back. His heart beat fast, but he stayed still as he stared into her eyes, daring her to take his life. Her hand shook as if fighting against an invisible barrier, until finally she dropped her dagger.

  I knew it, he thought to himself as he watched her curiously. She’s blood bound.

  And by the looks of it, she didn’t even know.

  “What did you do?” she snarled. “Using some kind of magic?”

  He wearily pulled the sleeve of his tattered tunic up to his elbow to reveal the magic brand on his forearm—the brand that blocked him from using magic. “It’s not my magic.”

  “Then whose?”

  Instead of answering, he sat up and continued to watch her. She paced back and forth, but never turned her back to him. The gold in her hair glinted in the moonlight, adding a dazzling effect to her disgruntled exterior.

  “How long have you been a valkyrie?”

  Not only was she blood bound, but he had a good idea of exactly who she might be. He knew her name. Her real name.

  She stopped pacing and turned to him with furrowed brows. “I’ve been a valkyrie all my life. Paula found me abandoned and took me in.”

  “I doubt that,” he murmured.

  “What did you say?” But when he didn’t reply, she snapped open her dagger and tipped his chin upward with the point, so he looked into her eyes. “You doubt my words?”

  “Yes.” Despite the threat of the blade, he wasn’t afraid of her. At least not anymore. “I have a hard time believing your parents would have sworn you to a blood oath, only to abandon you. I would sooner believe you were taken
by force.”

  The firelight drew angry shadows across her face. Her eyes became twin pools of fiery amber. “I have taken no blood oath,” she spat. “You know nothing of me, fae slave.”

  “Then kill me,” he dared. “Prove me wrong.”

  A furious screech escaped her as she withdrew her second dagger as if the first wasn’t enough to do a thorough job of the deed. His gaze remained steady on her, and he didn’t even flinch as she sliced both her blades at him. However, they sliced the air only an inch from his nose.

  She screeched again, even angrier than before as she attacked and sliced and stabbed.

  Each assault missed.

  Finally, she threw down her weapons, her eyes still blazing while she glared. She took deep, heavy breaths. He couldn’t help but admire her beneath the moonlight. Breathtaking wings. Lively eyes. A pert mouth. Although his heart belonged to Nyana even in death, it had been a long time since he’d seen a beautiful woman.

  At last, he blinked. Despite his pain and fatigue, the warmth from her mere presence returned like it had earlier in the Pits. A lazy smile spread across his face. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry—”

  Her foot lashed out and struck him in the chest faster than he thought possible. The air whooshed from his lungs, and he found himself sprawled on his back once again, staring up at twinkling stars. He grunted when she pinned him down with a foot crushing his ribs. He grabbed onto her boot with one hand in an attempt to shove her off, but his body was no longer strong. Not without sunlight to fuel him.

  His other hand lay useless at his side. There was no point in trying to use it.

  Strands of brown and gold fell into his face as she glowered at him, only inches away. “What magic is this? Who gives you this protection?”

  He remained quiet, not certain she would believe him if he told her.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Nobody.” At least not anymore.

  Another snarl twisted the features of her face into anger.

  “I want nothing to do with you.” She spat to the side. “Go on. Scram. You’re free. I owe you nothing more.”

  When he didn’t move, she shoved him once more with her boot, spread her long wings, and jumped off the cliff. Her beautiful wings lifted her effortlessly across the sky. He watched her silhouette grow smaller with each passing second until she disappeared entirely.

  A small grin tugged on his lips. She’d be back. And he found himself looking forward to their next encounter.

  “Thank you,” he whispered to the darkness in the direction she’d flown. He was free. And he didn’t plan to waste the opportunity.

  Skaja moodily landed back in the forest, quickly throwing a three-paneled cloak over herself to hide the cut on her arm. The chilly night warranted the extra protection against the elements, so no one would question it.

  She frowned as she weaved around sleeping figures on the ground. All her life, she’d been taught that men were horrible creatures. Awful, selfish, cruel, unkind. The fae slave was anything but those things. Annoying, yes. Confusing, yes. But not terrible.

  The only interactions she’d had with men were when fighting or killing them. Her first conversation with a man was...strange...and yielded no answers, only more questions. What magic protected him from her daggers? If he wielded such magic, why had he been stuck in the Pits? How had those men been able to whip him?

  And why had he called her Scarlett?

  “You look pensive tonight,” a voice said behind her, and she spun around to find Inari sitting beside a fire. She trimmed the end hair off either side of her prized locks, tied the strands of hair together with a leather cord, and attached it to her staff. Dozens of hair bundles hung from the wood in a wide array of colors.

  Her friend carried the staff with her wherever she went.

  Glancing around to find only two other valkyries awake and engaged in conversation opposite the fire, she sat beside Inari and gazed into the flames. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Would you like to share?”

  Did she?

  But as she gave a sideways glance in Inari’s direction, she wasn’t sure if she could trust her closest friend with a dangerous secret. Besides, an insistent, desperate need to protect the fae man tugged on her relentlessly.

  Ridiculous.

  Instead of speaking of the man, she confided in another confusing topic. “Do you ever wonder about your family? Your birth family?”

  Inari paused in her task long enough to glance up. Streaks of white paint were smeared across her dark face in celebration of their latest victory. “The thought crosses my mind occasionally. Your family must be heavy on your mind tonight. You have not smiled once since the raid. And you were gone on your flight for a long time.”

  “I suppose so,” she murmured to the ground. The fae man’s words tugged on her soul, and she couldn’t help but repeat them. “Do you think my parents truly had the heart to abandon me?”

  “Many of us were abandoned. Paula is good and kind to have taken us in.”

  “But...doesn’t it hurt? To know your parents hadn’t wanted you?”

  Her friend sighed as she finished tying one cluster of hair only to start on the next. “You know dwelling on the past doesn’t help anything. You are wanted here. You, especially. Paula loves that you are a harpy. What I wouldn’t give to have a pair of wings too.”

  “They are burdensome at times,” she replied with a chuckle. “I’m always stepping on my feathers. And don’t get me started on finding a comfortable sleeping position.”

  Inari pointed a cluster of hair at her, an exasperated look on her face. “Your idea of a comfortable sleeping position includes taking up all the space. I see no logical reason why your wings need so much room.”

  The two of them laughed, releasing some of the pent-up anxiety in Skaja’s heart. The fae man was just that—a man. Devious. Manipulative. Confusing. He seemed kind, but perhaps it was simply an act. All her life, she’d been led to believe they were heartless beasts. Just because he seemed different, didn’t mean he was.

  “There,” Inari said as she latched her final hair cluster to her staff and turned it in a full circle as she admired her work. Her mouth turned downward with disappointment. “The one who got away... That one is smart, I’ll give him that much. He likely planned for this day well in advance to have slipped away so soundly. Surprising, too.”

  “Surprising?” Skaja opened her wings a little more to feel the heat of the fire on her feathers.

  “He mined using only one hand. The other must be lame. I can’t imagine where he could have gone with only one working hand.”

  Lame?

  A frown puckered her mouth. When she’d fought him in the Pits, he’d attacked with surprising strength. But then she recalled how he couldn’t hold on very well when she’d transported him out of the ravine.

  “You are obsessing over this man,” she said quickly to cover up her contemplative thoughts.

  “And? Have you seen his hair? I’m dying to know what it looks like without dirt in it and a good brushing.”

  She rolled her eyes. Unfortunately, Inari wasn’t the only valkyrie with a strange habit. Another enjoyed sleeping with men before she killed them. And one collected the pinky fingernail of each of her victims.

  On the other hand, she only killed men out of necessity, especially where the safety of women was concerned.

  Closing her wings to keep the gathered heat closer to her body, she stood and bid her friend goodnight before finding an empty patch of grass to lie on. A sudden weariness washed over her, and her eyes drifted closed. Hours of fitful sleep passed.

  But then suddenly her eyes flew open and she swore under her breath in the darkness of early morning. She’d left the fae man on top of a cliff. How was he supposed to get down?

  Slumbering breaths greeted her, indicating no one had heard her cursing her own stupidity. Quietly, she climbed to her feet and tiptoed through the camp. Before she managed to talk herself out of her decision, she leaped into the air and flew back in the direction of the high, grassy cliffs.

  By the time the blush of dawn filled the sky, the cliffs came into view.

  As well as the man she’d thought about far more than she was willing to admit.