The Hidden (Shadowed Wings Book 1)

by Ivy Asher

  “You’d probably get taken out by a Thais Fairy, and they’re the least of the trouble you’d find in the forest at night,” he tells me, and I reflexively bring my legs up a little higher, like I’m worried something will reach up from the forest floor and make a grab for me. We’re flying well above the treetops, quite fast at that, but my imagination starts to run wild with exactly what might be down in the trees that would have these big scary looking gryphons flying high to avoid a run in.

  A rumble of a laugh vibrates from Zeph’s chest into my back, and something about it makes me lose every ounce of sense in my head. Well, this worked before, let’s see if I can go two for two, I tell myself as I bring my knee forward and then kick back with everything I have. An oomph brushes the shell of my ear, and Zeph’s strong arms loosen around me as my foot connects with his dick. Instead of being terrified as I fall from Zeph’s grasp, a self-satisfied smile sneaks across my face. An angry roar fills the night, and if I wasn’t so focused on getting my wings to pop out, I’d turn around and flip Zeph and his anger off.

  Well, gryphon, you’ve got about twenty seconds to do something, or we’re about to become a tree kebob, I taunt, and I spread my arms and legs out to steady myself and slightly slow my free fall.

  I realize in this moment, as the tops of the trees rise up to meet me, just how born for the sky I really am. I should be terrified, but instead, I feel alive in a way I never have before. A tingle works its way up my back, and a beaming smile breaks open on my face.

  There’s just one thing I didn’t account for as my wings spring from my back...Ryn. He slams into me so hard that it knocks the wind out of me. Déjà vu crashes through me as he once again fucks with my attempt to master my wings and take care of myself. I struggle to pull air into my lungs and battle to get him off of me as we struggle to gain control of our fall. I wiggle enough out of his hold that I’m able to scratch at his face and kick him at the same time. He releases me, but his eyes flash, and I can feel his animal surge up in response to my attack.

  My own lazy ass gryphon responds to that for whatever reason, and I feel my vision sharpen. Evidently, my gryphon is cool with just about anything except what she perceives as a challenge. I make note of that as I relinquish control of my body to her, but she doesn’t rush in and take over like I expect. She seems more interested in simply making her presence known, and I can almost feel the fuck you in it as I fix my eyes on Ryn, and a warning growl starts in my chest. I—or maybe my gryphon—adjust my wings, and they fill with air, stopping my fall and lifting me effortlessly on a draft that has me rising to surf the sky.

  I can feel something bearing down on me from above. I’m being hunted like prey, and I try to work out how to keep from being caught. Ryn catches a draft that brings him up toward me, and a ripple of air slithers through my feathers, depositing information as it weaves through my black wings. I can sense where they are in the sky. I don’t know how I’m reading all of this on the current with my feathers, but I don’t question it. Everything inside of me is screaming to move, to get away, but I wait. At the last minute, I angle my wings for speed and take off into the night, and Zeph and Ryn slam into each other behind me. My gryphon and I feel smug as fuck about that, and if I weren’t so pissed about the fact that she’s left me hanging, falling, and pretty much screwed up until now, I’d give her a mental high five.

  We pick up speed, watching the sky for anything else that might give us trouble and make our way to the cliff castle. I probably have less than a minute’s lead on Zeph and Ryn, and I need a good hiding place. I notice all of the windows higher up on the massive structure are dark, so I aim for one of them. Apparently, my gryphon isn’t interested in assisting with the landing because I feel her slip away as I crash land onto the balcony and skid into the room.

  I should have fucking known the evil bitch would do this.

  I’m not sure how much of a racket I make when I wreck, but it feels pretty fucking loud as I tumble through the room and ricochet off a wall and slide back out toward the balcony. I slowly come to a stop and just lie on the ground, breathing through the bruises I can practically feel forming all over my body. I wait for the guards to pile into the room and bust me, but nothing happens.

  My stomach grumbles, and I have to stop myself from actually shushing it. I hear faint yelling and can picture Zeph and Ryn pissed off and calling a search together. I look around the room and realize that it’s empty. There’s no furniture of any kind, and there’s a layer of dust that I’ve just angered on the floor. I focus on my wings and try to pull them back inside of me. I’m not sure how long I lie like that, bathed in silence and willing the onyx feathered appendages to cooperate, but out of nowhere they’re suddenly pulled into my back, and I have to slam a hand over my mouth to stifle my yip of happiness.

  Fuck yeah, take that, wings! I own you now!

  I cheer in my mind and then cross my fingers and fucking hope that’s now true. I sit up and lean back against a pillar that separates the balcony from the room inside and release a deep weary exhale. I rest my head back and close my eyes, and my grandmother’s face appears on the back of my eyelids. She never smiled much, and a stern unyielding face stares back at me. Her white hair is pulled away from her face tightly, and I know if she turns around, I’ll find a braid that falls almost to the small of her back.

  Her aqua gaze reads me like a book, just as it always did, and the lines around her eyes deepen as she stares at me.

  “Why not tell me, Gran?” I ask my memory of her. “Why all this cloak and dagger shit?” The image says nothing, which doesn’t surprise me, as figments of my imagination can’t supply answers that I don’t have. I stare at my grandmother a little longer as if the answers lie somewhere in the grooves that time etched into her face, but I’m still as in the dark as I was when I first woke up in this strange place. Well, maybe not that in the dark, I do know that I’m a gryphon, and Zeph and Ryn now know I’m not a spy, so there’s that at least. I hear Zeph bellow a faint command, and I resist the urge to peek and see if they’re outside scrambling or somewhere in the cliff castle freaking out.

  I can picture the two of them, all grumpy and irritated at being thwarted, and I bite down against the chuckle that spills out of my mouth. The image of them barking commands and searching for me is the last thing that floats through my mind before my weary body and mind succumb to sleep.

  8

  Sirens yank me from my deep and bliss-filled slumber. I sit up, panic slamming into me, and a yellow sheet slips off my torso and pools at my waist. I look around at the familiar room.

  How the fuck did I get back here?

  I’m naked again, and I roll my eyes and release a growl. Why the hell do I keep waking up like this? I pull the top sheet off and wrap it around me. I stumble out onto the balcony, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, and have to duck to avoid getting decapitated by a massive wing as a gryphon whooshes past me. Another one flies by, and I notice that it’s decked out in armor. I look over the railing of the balcony to find other gryphons being fitted in the clearing at the base of the cliff.

  The alarm is quieter out here on the balcony, but I see people scrambling into the cliff castle and others scrambling out, shifting, and waiting for someone to fit them with armor. I look up at the sky, figuring whatever is setting off these alarms must be coming from somewhere up there, but I don’t see anything other than blue skies and an occasional wispy cloud. Another gryphon that’s been fitted and kitted flies past me to disappear up and over the waterfall.

  My gryphon starts to stir, and I focus on that for a minute, trying to discern what it is that captured her attention enough to make her show up. I’m not sure if it’s the alarm of the other gryphons setting her off, but part of me wants to try to coax her the rest of the way to the surface and follow the other gryphons to see what’s going on. Another part of me knows that would be a really stupid idea, especially since my animal is a dick and seems to take great joy in
fucking me over.

  The door to the room slams open behind me, and I move to shield myself with a pillar. A throat clears.

  “I can see the trail of your blanket, milady,” a feminine voice informs me, and I peek to the side of the pillar to find Tysa standing there holding a pile of peach fabric. Her brown eyes are filled with amusement, and her cute pouty lips are turned up in a half smile.

  I wave awkwardly at her and then step out from behind my bad choice of hiding spots. “Hey, sorry, I thought you were maybe Zeph or Ryn,” I explain as I approach her. “Apparently, I suck at hide and seek,” I add, gesturing to the bed I have no idea how I ended up in.

  “We should get you dressed, milady, and then join the others until the all clear is given,” Tysa urges me, fanning out the fabric in her hands, which appears to be some kind of dress.

  The alarm still ringing through the room has me nodding and unwrapping the sheet from around myself. I would try to get dressed myself, but whatever is in Tysa’s hands looks complicated, and I’m just happy to have clothes again. She holds the dress down for me, and I quickly step into it. I have no idea what it’s made of, but it’s the softest material I’ve ever felt. The gathered peach fabric has been sewn onto a rose gold chain, and Tysa fastens it around my neck.

  “Loa said to make you something straight from the walking paths of Kestrel. I stayed up all night and made two gowns that should work, but I can take some measurements from you today and start on some more tonight,” Tysa tells me, and I can hear the nervous tension in her rambling. She attaches something to the back of the chain around my neck, and then I feel her wrap another cool metal chain around my lower back, bringing it forward to cinch the peach fabric just below my belly button.

  “There,” she tells me, stepping back and admiring her hard work, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

  I’m not sure what to say, but the fact of the matter is, I was more covered by the sheet then I am by this dress. The fabric fastened at my neck is pulled tightly around my breasts and cinched below my belly button. There is nothing covering the side of my ribs, and the fabric drapes down well past my hips on both sides. The chain belt at my waist is the only thing keeping the gathered fabric from billowing out and flashing my vagina. The tops of my ass cheeks are visible from the low side drapes, but my crack is hidden by the part of the dress that runs up my spine and connects to the back of the chain at my neck.

  I’m two chain breaks away from being naked.

  “Very fitting of the highborn that you are, milady,” Tysa tells me, and as uncomfortable as I am, there’s no way in hell that I’m dousing the pride I see in her gaze.

  “Call me Falon,” I encourage. “And I’m about as far as you can get from highborn,” I add, uncomfortable with all this milady shit.

  Tysa looks at me confused. “But your hair?”

  I run my fingers through the tangled tresses and pull it forward. It’s still a little shocking to see that it’s white with hints of light gray in it now. “Do all the highborn have white hair?”

  “The women do, milady. Some buy wigs or pay a year’s worth of my wages to have a treatment done every month, but the purest mixes of Ouphe blood give the girls white hair. They’re bred specifically for that trait in the females.”

  I’m confused by what she’s saying, but she hands me a brush and then hurries me out of the room, the alarm punctuating our urgent steps. I speed walk to keep up with Tysa’s longer stride and try to make sure my private bits stay tucked in and hidden. I’m led to the same massive room I was brought to yesterday for questioning, and I tense a little as I picture the table full of douchebags and their questions. Tysa leads me through the carved wooden doors, and I find that the room is now filled with people who are whispering frantically and wearing worry on their faces.

  “I’ll grab you some food from the kitchens,” Tysa informs me and then disappears back out the door before I can say anything or beg her not to leave me alone.

  I’ve never been one who was super comfortable in large social gatherings, and when you add in that I still have no idea where I am and know no one, I’m feeling a little awkward, to say the least. I make my way through the crowd, giving a small friendly smile to a guy I make eye contact with. He glares at me and then quickly turns away. Conversations become hushed as I get closer, and after a couple more glares and angry dismissals, I feel even more tense and awkward.

  “Ahh, I was wondering if you’d be joining us or them,” Loa announces as she spots me and makes her way in my direction.

  I don’t know who the them are that she’s referring to, but based on the sneer she’s wearing, I don’t think she’s talking about the armored gryphons. Loa stops in front of me, her frame towering, and she runs her gaze up and down my body.

  “I’m glad to see Tysa was able to accommodate your...tastes,” Loa taunts, and it’s clear by the way she says tastes, she’s insinuating I don’t have any. I look around and see that I’m very overdressed—or maybe I should say underdressed—among this crowd, and I raise a knowing eyebrow at Loa.

  This bitch.

  “Yeah, Tysa’s a rare talent,” I tell her casually, not showing any of the discomfort or irritation I’m currently feeling. “It was so very kind of you to order this dress for me. I’ll be sure to think of plenty of ways I can repay your generosity,” I reply, my tone sweet, my gaze threatening. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the term highborn is a dirty word amongst these people and that Loa just hardcore fucked with my chances of fitting in here.

  Or maybe my new white hair did that. Either way, I really want to get the fuck out of here, and as soon as I do, I’m ripping this dress off. I don’t care if I have to wear a sheet until I can get home; I don’t like how these people are looking at me, and the last thing I need is to be more of a target here.

  The alarm goes quiet, and it’s enough of a distraction for me to slip past the tree-sized bitch, Loa, and make my way to a spot by the window. Relief washes through the crowd in the room, and the somber conversations quickly morph into more animated ones. Tysa finds me leaning against the wall and hands me a plate of food, none of which I can identify. I start with what I hope is a roll, figuring it’s probably the safest bet.

  “Holy shit, that’s good!” I mumble with a full mouth as the soft buttery inside melts in my mouth with just a hint of sweetness. I proceed to stuff my face, not even caring that I’m eating like some starved animal, because I am, in fact, a starved animal.

  “So, Tysa, can you fill me in on what the hell is going on here? I mean, going off of what I’ve been accused of and the sirens and shit, it seems like there’s some kind of battle going on, but I’m clearly missing a lot here,” I confess, and Tysa pulls on my hand, indicating that she wants me to sit down next to her.

  I do, setting my plateful of food in my barely covered lap and attempt to slow down the ravenous stuffing of my face so I don’t choke. I bring a piece of what looks like some kind of turquoise fruit up to my nose and sniff it a couple times. I figure since it doesn’t smell like shit, it probably doesn’t taste like shit, so I put that theory to the test and take a small hesitant bite. I pump my fist when I discover that it tastes like the sweetest pineapple mixed with the sweetest strawberry I’ve ever tasted. I close my eyes and savor the new flavor.

  “We are the Hidden,” she tells me and gestures to the room full of people. “We are gryphons who refuse to take the vow or bend the knee to unworthy leaders.”

  I wait for her to elaborate, but she seems content with that explanation. “What makes them unworthy,” I ask, and a male close to us turns around and glares hard at me. “I’m not saying they aren’t; I’m just trying to understand,” I defend against the murderous look the stranger is now sending my way.

  “It’s a really long story, but the Ouphe used to control and use us. We were required to enter into a vow of servitude at just sixteen. We fought for a very long time to break from that enslavement and from those practices, but our peop
le are divided about the vow itself. Some leaders think that we should still swear fealty and take the mark of our ancestors. They pretend it’s to honor the original vow and the magic a gryphon can access if they make it. But really it’s so that the highbloods that have enough Ouphe blood in their veins can still control the rest of us.”

  Tysa spits on the ground like she’s trying to rid herself of the taste of those words.

  “We are the rebels that are fighting against that. We fight against control in all forms and the loss of our will. We are the Hidden,” she tells me once again, and this time, I look at the people in this room with a new understanding.

  “And the alarms?” I query.

  “They could mean a lot of things. A prisoner escape.” She stares at me pointedly, and I chuckle around a mouthful of some kind of meat that’s spicy and delicious. “It could be that we’re under attack, although the old magic in this mountain makes that unlikely. It could mean a returning patrol needs help, or the Avowed requesting a meet. We don’t fall for that trick much anymore though.”

  I look around at the light smooth stone of the room and wonder what she means by old magic in this mountain. I notice something that looks like writing in the inside arch of the window, and one of the symbols triggers something in me. I stare at it, suddenly struck by the feeling that happens when a word sits on the tip of my tongue, but I just can’t seem to wrap my mouth around it. It looks so fucking familiar, and yet I can’t seem to place it.

  A loud boom pulses through the room, and a couple people give surprised screams, including me. It’s a good thing I’ve quickly cleaned off almost everything except for some gray sludge on my plate, or it would have just gone flying all over me. Everyone looks around, but no one seems to know what the hell just happened. Gryphons suddenly appear at the windows, talons and claws gripping the sills as their bird-like heads search the room. Tysa and I scurry to our feet at their sudden appearance, and I’m taken aback by their size. The cutouts in the wall are massive and span the entire length, and yet these gryphons are still too big to fit through them.