by Allison West
"What are you doing here?" His voice was short, his temper quick. He did not seem pleased to see her.
"I'm visiting you." Leila stared at him, curious about the changes. She reached out to touch his wings, her fingers barely brushing the black feathers before he pulled back, as though her touch were fire and burned him.
"Don't," he warned.
"Sorry." Her eyes shifted down to the floor. Was he embarrassed about his wings, the changes that had happened to him? She cleared her throat and glanced up to meet his stare. "I'm not afraid, Wynter. I think you're beautiful."
"Yes, because that's what a guy loves to be called."
She walked the length of his room before plopping down on the edge of his mattress. "This sucks. Everything about it." Leila didn't want him in the asylum, and she knew he didn't want to be there. "Why are you here?" Aside from the obvious change—the giant wings that didn't seem to be going away—she couldn't fathom why he wasn't back at the dormitory. Couldn't he hide at home? Besides, if he was no longer a grim reaper, were they to be assigned a new professor?
"Are you blind?" His temper and frustration forced his wings to expand the full length of the small room. He took a few deep breaths. As he gathered air into his lungs, his wings lowered before tucking themselves back against him. "It takes some getting used to. Once I master it, I'll be able to return home."
"Then we won't be getting a new teacher?" Leila asked, chewing her bottom lip, hopeful that Wynter would still be her mentor.
He laughed under his breath. "Worried you'll get someone you can't handle?"
She didn't answer him. "So, what are you supposed to do here all day?" Leila glanced around his room. It was dark, except for a filth-covered window. It didn't allow a lot of light in.
"The groundskeeper is going to bring me some texts. He wants me to brush up on dark angel history. Then, I learn about my responsibilities, which is to say I get to intervene, whereas you reapers don't."
"That sounds nice." It was better than not being able to stop death from happening. Leila was trying her best to lighten the tension and break Wynter's sullen mood. It wasn't as though either of them loved being a reaper. "What happened to the dark angel you asked for help? The one who took Sophia's life in exchange for Mara's?" Had Juliana been cast out of wherever she lived? Leila didn't know what was going on. Had Wynter taken her place? Had the dark angel been like a genie in a magical lamp, trapped until Wynter had set her free, only to find himself trapped in her place?
"She's back at the refuge." He sighed and took a seat on the bed beside Leila. "What are you doing here, Leila?"
"I came to see how you were." Leila rested a hand on his arm. "I was worried about you." The asylum frightened her, and to think that Wynter had to stay there because of what he'd become made her feel guilty too.
"I'll be fine."
Leila removed her hand from his arm and placed it back in her lap. "I'm sure you will." Silence filled the room. She didn't know what to say or how to make it right. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"I have a feeling if I say no, you'll still ask me."
Leila laughed and rolled her eyes. "Probably. I want to know how you died."
"It's not a pretty story, Leila." His eyes bored into hers.
She pursed her lips together, not caring. "I can handle it."
"I was convicted of murder and treason. I did commit one of those acts, but not in the way I was accused. I was hanged, drawn, and quartered. Another reaper took my soul and gave me a second chance, same as you."
"Do you ever just… want revenge?" She hated even asking, but a part of her felt dark inside, angry with what had happened to her.
"Sure, I wanted revenge. Not initially, but I wasn't ready to rest, at least my soul wasn't ready." Wynter stared at her and tilted his head slightly to the side. "Is that what you want?"
Leila sighed. She knew what she wanted wasn't a possibility. "I want my old life back. What about you. What happened?" He knew her story, everyone in Casmerelda knew what had happened to Ophelia.
"Two men attacked my sister, Hannah, on the way back from the market. I wouldn't accept what they'd done."
"So, you killed them in retaliation?" Leila stared at his face, noticed the frown across his jaw line and reached out to stroke the rough stubble along his cheek.
"Not quite." He let out a heavy sigh. "I went to the brothers' home and demanded a public apology. Others in Wisteria needed to know that these men were monsters, and their wives and daughters needed protecting."
"What happened?" Leila asked.
"Well, they weren't going to apologize. They called me names, spit on me, and then there was a scuffle. I was forced to defend myself. I didn't want to kill either of them, but I had no choice. It turned out they were the sons of the archduke. So, I was convicted of murder and treason against my country." Wynter frowned, his brow furrowed. "Even worse, after my death, I wasn't there to protect Hannah. She was attacked by the archduke and beaten to death. Angry, I returned to the village and sought retribution. If I hadn't died, and if I'd done a better job of protecting her, she'd still be alive."
"You can't think that, Wynter. You're not responsible for her death." Leila reached for Wynter, throwing her arms around him. His wings expanded as his emotions ripped through him. It was all too familiar a feeling for Leila. It reminded her of King Philip ordering Larkin's execution.
"She didn't deserve to die."
No amount of time would ever completely heal old scars. Leila knew that, with Larkin. A part of her wished she hadn't brought it up—asked Wynter about his death—but another part of her was grateful he'd shared his pain with her. Leila leaned closer, brushing her soft lips against his cheek. "I'm glad you became a reaper, even if you were out for revenge."
Wynter shifted along the mattress, leaning forward, pushing his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry you had to become a reaper, but I'm glad I have the chance to know you." He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers.
Her bottom lip trembled against his mouth, Leila's nerves getting the better of her. She wanted to climb onto his lap, feel his strong grasp around her body, but she didn't wish to hurt him after his transformation. Did his body still ache from becoming a dark angel? Her heart pounded and her fingers trembled as she tangled her fingers in his dark hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, tighter. His tongue was rough yet warm as it slipped into her mouth, forcing her to lean forward harder, crushing his lips, desiring a second and a third taste. Wynter's thumb stroked her jaw. He had soothed her nerves, removed the butterflies from her stomach as her lips pressed against his jaw, dropping sweet kisses over the warm, salty skin. She wanted to taste every ounce of his precious skin, lick and suck his body in ways she had only dreamed of with a man.
"Leila," he rasped, his voice thick and throaty as he moaned out her name.
She studied his face, watched his eyelids close as her breath teased down his neck, kissing over his collarbone, dragging her tongue over the warm skin as she kissed down his chest, wanting to bring him pleasure to dull the pain of where he was being kept.
She hadn't known when she'd fallen in love with Wynter, but the feelings had grown stronger, clawing at her, begging to be released. Did he not feel it too? She had thought she loved Larkin, but perhaps it had been nothing more than a crush.
She gave him her strength and warmth, wanting to keep him from unraveling. She was careful of his back, the wings and the tear marks that were evident upon first arrival. Instead, she focused on his chest, kissing a lazy path like a river over his navel. Her fingers skimmed the waistband of his bottoms, inching them down as her fingers teased his thighs, arousing him.
"Leila," his voice was soft like honey, the pain momentarily erased as she removed the single article of clothing that he wore, dropping down to her knees, taking him into her mouth. Her lips and tongue sucked the head of his erection, before kissing down the shaft, feeling it grow and harden. Leila's fingers caressed his thighs a
nd up to his balls, wanting to make him forget every ounce of pain and trouble. She had gotten him into this mess, the least she could do was take the pain away momentarily.
He grunted, not apparently finding the words to voice his thoughts as her mouth latched onto his manhood, taking him in deeper into her throat. His fingers tangled in her red hair, before running his warm palm across her arms, down her neck, and into her hair.
Sucking the shaft, her fingers caressed his balls as she felt him begin to swell in her grasp. He was close. Her head bobbed up and down, taking him deeper, wanting to satisfy him in every way possible as he thrust forward, spilling himself into her mouth.
She swallowed every drop, licking his shaft after, and then kissed a trail back up to his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair. Gasping for air, her heart pounded wildly as she attempted to catch her breath.
Wynter pulled her to lay with him on their sides, his fingers tracing a soft path against her breast, slipping down into her shirt, teasing her nipple as she scooted closer, desiring more from him.
Her eyes closed, a faint smile splayed across her face as his hand moved across her stomach, pulling her closer before he inched up her dress, feeling her folds slick with wetness. Her cunny ached, desiring to be touched and the need for release satisfied. Wrapping her leg around his, she pulled him in closer, her fingers dancing over his hip, careful of his back and his wings. She didn't wish to hurt him or startle him by touching the dark feathers.
His fingers slipped inside her warmth, his thumb teasing her tiny bundle of nerves, forcing her legs to clamp tighter as he sent a jolt of lightening surging through her body. She wasn't quite there yet, but he knew how to arouse and tease her, his mouth moving down to her nipple while he thrust two fingers up inside her tight pussy.
Leila's mouth parted and she gasped from the intrusion. Never before had she felt so aroused and so full of desire, craving more contact, needing release. He had riled her up. Did he know the effect he had on her?
Wynter curled his fingers inside of her tight canal, thrusting them in and out, his tips gesturing in a come here motion as she felt her pussy swell and tingle. His thumb stroked her clit, forcing a loud gasp to rip through her body as she tightened onto his digits. Her toes curled, her body spasmed from the inside first until it reached her pounding heart.
Gasping for breath, Leila lay spent against the mattress, staring up at Wynter. Had that really happened?
Chapter 26
"Did you hear about Emblyn?"
Wynter's eyes lazily opened. He'd fallen into a soft slumber after feeling Leila's orgasm ripple over his fingers and against his body. "No. What about her?"
She gnawed on her bottom lip. He'd noticed she only did that when she was anxious. "We got back to the house and she was gone. She left a note that she'd graduated and had her own class in Stile. I thought graduation would be happier." Leila's eyes glistened. "I never thought she'd just leave without saying goodbye. She's not coming back, is she?"
"She probably won't." He sighed, thinking it over. "The Great Plague was bad here for a while. It may have spread. It's possible they need more help and have enlisted her and a new class to help combat the increase in deaths."
"If that's the case, wouldn't we all have been asked to help?" she asked, sitting up, fixing her dress.
"Not exactly. Emblyn is the only one who didn't break the rules. That's probably why she graduated. She's always been a rule follower." Wynter reached for his bottoms, slipping them back on, the air cool in the room.
"What about you?" Leila asked. "You don't seem like the rule following type and you have your own class."
Wynter laughed under his breath. "I'm not sure my graduation wasn't a punishment."
Quietly, Leila exhaled a soft breath. "What do you think happens now? Will a new reaper take Emblyn's place?"
"We could get a new reaper. There isn't much in the way of warning, other than your scroll will sizzle purple. That's what happened when I reaped your soul. Otherwise, we could get a transfer. That happens on occasion. If the royal council feels we need more help, they could request a reaper be reassigned to my class.. That's how we got Violetta. She's moved around a few times."
"How do you know when it's time to move?" Leila asked.
"Your scroll will give you the information. The royal council can have it display a message or a reap."
"Speak of the devil," she muttered, removing her scroll and unrolling the parchment.
Wynter read the assignment over her shoulder. "You need to go." He didn't want her to leave, but keeping her from her job would be selfish of him.
"I'm sorry, Wynter. I promise I'll return as soon as I can."
"Don't. This place will rot your soul."
She secured the scroll back against her thigh, dropped a quick kiss to his lips, and rushed out of the asylum. He wiped the dirt from the window, watching as she mounted the horse and took off in the distance.
Already, he missed her. She'd made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, even as a reaper.
Chapter 27
Her heart quickened with each breath, sensing that the soul's death would be close to home.
"No," Leila croaked, gasping as her fingers tingled with a burning fiery sensation that tore through her body. What did it mean? Could Violetta die? Wasn't she a grim reaper? Leila fled swiftly for home. She pulled the scroll and clenched the reins of the horse, waiting to reveal the name of the soon-to-be deceased. Yvan Pradka.
It was not a name she recognized, but that didn't ease the concern stemming from her stomach and strangling her heart.
The sky grew dark. Night was fast approaching. Time wasn't on Leila's side. Afraid of the consequences for being late and her concern for Violetta, Leila rode harder.
Approaching the house, Leila jumped off the horse, not taking time to tie her to the fence post, and ran to the front door. It was ajar. Pushing the door open, Leila first noticed the table was knocked over and Violetta was on the floor. She didn't move. "Jasper?" Leila was surprised to see him in the house. He held a candlestick up in his right hand as a weapon. Leila reached out, grabbing the assailant's arm, biting the skin as she fought him. She hoped it was enough to essentially pop his soul from his body. "Hope you go to Hell," Leila whispered under her breath.
"Warner sends his regards." Yvan gripped Leila's arm and threw her into the wall.
Jasper swung the candlestick, slamming Yvan in the head and disorienting him. Unsteady on his feet, Yvan smacked the edge of his head on the kitchen counter, plummeting to the floor with a puddle of blood.
Leila groaned in protest. She was sore, and if Yvan wasn't dead already, she would have finished the job early. "I am not cleaning that up." Leila pointed at the dead man lying between her living room and kitchen. She pushed herself up off the floor and stood unsteadily on her feet.
"What happened?" Yvan stood beside Leila, staring at his lifeless body on the floor. He was in shock. "Am I dead?" He choked on his words.
Leila didn't want to help his soul, or what was left of Yvan Pradka. She did, however, want to know about Warner de Clare's relation to the man. After all, what he'd said earlier had stuck in her head. "You'll be a ghost for as long as I say," Leila threatened him.
Yvan reached out to attack Leila, only to find his hands dematerialized through her body. It seemed only reapers could interact with the undead. She was right; he was a ghost. "I'm really dead?"
"You help us," Jasper said, "or we go after your family."
Leila didn't know if it was an empty threat or not. Did she have it in her to retaliate? Apparently, Yvan didn't know, either. "Warner saw Mara sneaking out with you two girls last night. He insisted we follow her. He didn't like that you were asking questions at the tavern and was concerned someone might have seen something the night Princess Ophelia was murdered. He ordered us to follow you home. He wanted us to clean up any loose ends. The new moon helped hide us in the forest. We followed you first to an old mansi
on before you went home."
"You were at the asylum?" Jasper asked.
Yvan ignored Jasper. "I was only here to silence you and your friend under Warner de Clare's direct order."
He had come here for no other reason than to kill Violetta and Leila. "Maybe we should let you rot as a ghost for the next thousand years in misery," Jasper said. "You took Princess Ophelia's life."
"I didn't kill Princess Ophelia," Yvan said. "Warner was responsible for her death."
Leila had heard enough. She had suspected Warner de Clare's involvement since he'd murdered Sophia at the royal palace. His involvement was a result of desiring to be king of Casmerelda. With Ophelia dead, he was supposed to wed Mara. "Come with me." She led him to the front door and opened it. At the edge of the lawn was a glimmer of red and orange. All she could do was hope that it was a bridge to Hell for him.
"We need to send a message to Mara. Let her know that if Warner de Clare is alive, and I suspect that he is, she's in danger."
"You can't go, Leila," Jasper said. "Check on Violetta. I'll send a message to Mara, but you must promise me that you won't see your sister again. It's too dangerous. After what happened last night, we can't go back."
Leila stalled. Was it a promise she could make? She wasn't sure. She said the words anyhow; at least for now, she needed to do what was best for her sister. "I promise."
"You should check on Violetta," Jasper said. "When I get back, I'll help clean up the dead guy, unless the royal council shows up first."