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It was mercifully empty, and when I approached the windows, I saw that the mountains cast spiked shadows across the land, the sun not quite high enough to breach their snow-covered peaks.
It was still early.
Turning the knobs for the shower, I stripped out of Ruslan’s oversized tunic, wanting to wash the smell of him off of me before I became drunk on the highs and lows of him. This feeling of never knowing what was next was addicting, especially under his smoky scrutiny that sent heat straight to my core. The steam beckoned me forward, and I groaned as the healing spring water coated my skin, chasing away the stone rooms’ perpetual chill.
As I lathered lavender-scented soap across my body, my thoughts returned to Ruslan. He was mercurial – sometimes teasing, sometimes furious, and sometimes vulnerable. His triggers were rapid and all consuming, one moment everything fine, the next, everything gone to hell. But he liked the game, he liked the chase, he liked my fire. So I would have to give him what he wanted, not too easily, but just enough to keep him chasing, to keep him engaged enough to open up about his past, thebreeding program, and any abilities I suspected he knew I possessed.
He wanted me as a weapon after all.
After shutting off the flow of water and wrapping myself in a towel to lock in the warmth, I perused the walk-in closet, opening drawers, searching shelves, and sliding hangers until I found a suitable pair of pants and cropped tunic to wear. Hunting among the shoes, I spotted a pair of slippers much too large for my small feet and slid into them, wiggling my toes in their fur lining.
Closing my eyes and bracing myself for my first encounter with Ruslan for the day, I slipped through the door to the living space.
But Ruslan was not there, and there was no sign that he had been.
My heart skipped a beat as I realized I was utterly alone.
Was this my chance to escape?
There was no way to take the elevator out of here, but I had wings, and I could fly. Spinning to the spiral stairs Ruslan had pointed out last night, I raced to them, then bounded up two at a time. When I skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs, I called my glittering white wings to my back, hoping that the fabric of my shirt would be magically enhanced. A rush of joy filled my lungs along with a deep breath when my magic flooded my veins, wings popping into existence behind me. I didn’t even wince as I flapped them, my back muscles growing stronger with each day.
I regarded my wings for only a moment before my eyes were drawn to a metal hatch notched into the ceiling, and I pulled myself onto the rungs of a ladder built into the wall, my short stature rendering me unable to reach overhead to lift it. It was unlocked, and with all the force I could muster, I pushed the heavy iron door up inch by inch. My wings did not falter at thetouch of iron, instead pumping behind me, propelling me upward. Finally, with one last forceful exhale, the door swung over itself, landing with a thud on the roof. I held my breath, certain the door had alerted someone to my presence, but after a moment, all remained still.
Scrambling up the remaining rungs of the ladder, I jettisoned myself onto the smooth rock of the roof, then pushed myself upright, wiping my palms on my pants. A gale blowing down from the mountain tops nearly took me down, and if not for my wings instinctually counterbalancing me, I would have dropped straight back into the hole.
Glorious golden light caressed my face as the morning sun crested the mountain tops, and I inhaled the fresh mountain air, crisp with the coming winter. A gust of wind blew my loose, wet hair in all directions, tangling the long strands in front of my face and blinding me. For a moment, I swore I heard Kazimir’s voice whispering by me, but my attention was snagged by a forceful shiver, and I groaned as that rib started to ache.
Shit, I should have grabbed a coat.
There was no way I would make it far in this cold, especially flying among the strong gusts. I’d barely made it off the ground in previous attempts to fly, but this might be my only chance of escape. Torn between fear of death and fear of powerlessness, I hesitated. With a strangled groan torn away by the wind, I closed the door to the suite, then rushed to the railing, peering over the edge of the roof to identify any potential obstacles. The ground looked so far away, and images of plummeting to my death flashed in my mind, my stomach flipping over and forcing me to choose a different path.
I raced to the opposite end of the roof, this side closer to the mountain peaks. But Ruslan had been clever in his design of the palace, and although one would think that entering the mountains from this direction would be easy, the sharp, jaggedrocks that waited like the maw of a dragon argued otherwise. If my wings failed me here, I would be impaled without question.
Plagued with indecision, I decided to take my chances over the serrated rocks. Some distance away, there was a flat landing.
If I could only make it there, I could rest and continue on.
Hopping to the top rung of the railing, I used my wings to balance as I steeled myself for the leap I was about to take.
The metal hatch banged against the rock behind me, and I leaped into the air, wings flapping furiously as I spun to see Ruslan’s dark, slicked-back hair emerging through it. He hadn’t seen me yet, so I flapped away from the edge, trying to appear as if I were casually testing out my wings rather than plotting an escape.
His smoldering eyes crested the hole, followed by his broad shoulders, and his perpetual smirk widened as he took in my wings. His palms splayed across the smooth rock, and corded muscle rippled in his arms as he hoisted himself onto the roof, leaving the door open behind him. “Going somewhere?” he purred.
Swallowing down the fear that clawed its way up my throat, I landed lightly in front of him, plastering a cool mask on my face. “Just stretching my wings. I don’t have a death wish.” I motioned around me to the obvious death trap that awaited unconfident fliers. “And I haven't used my magic in days. It was starting to itch.” I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes as if it should be obvious why I would be up here.
“Well, I’m glad to see your magic well is full enough for what I have planned today,” he hinted, and I knew he wanted me to ask what that was, playing on my near-insatiable curiosity.
I caved. “Oh? What is that?”
“We are meeting with Rares. I want him to look you over and test your abilities. Depending on what he finds, you may starttraining with the Angel in residence to hone your magic,” he announced.
My brows shot up, though my surprise competed with rising bile over meeting the man responsible for the misery of my mother and countless other innocents. I let Ruslan see none of that, instead saying, “I look forward to meeting him. I have heard so much about him.”
“Good,” Ruslan crooned. “Because you and I are his greatest creations. Come, let’s eat before we go.” He was back to his usual impish, aggressive behavior today, which I much preferred to the despair that had tugged on my heartstrings the night before.
Without taking his gray eyes off of me, he leaped through the trap door, then motioned for me to climb down the ladder. Banishing my wings with a sigh, I climbed down the first few rungs, then was swept off the ladder by large hands gripping my hips. Ruslan placed me gently on the ground, leaving one hand in place while the other pulled and latched the door above us. Then we wound down, down, down, until we landed in the living space where the homelike aroma of cinnamon wafted in my direction, and my mouth watered at the thought of my favorite treat.
My nostrils flared, lashes fluttering as I inhaled the scent like it was my own personal drug, and Ruslan hummed. “I heard that you had an affection for cinnamon rolls. I had Cedomir run out for the ingredients this morning. He’s a bit adventurous with his recipes, so you’ll have to tell me if you don’t like his twist on the classic.”
