Page 2 of Fated to the Damned

The guilt that swarms me comes more from my reluctance to fulfill the prophecy I’ve spent my entire life learning to uphold.

Each sermon has felt more and more like a lie as I hesitate to feel any pride about our return to the surface. There is nothing waiting up there for us but a line so tainted with human blood that we will no longer have magic. And that will only bring us swift deaths.

"Nikolai?"

My head snaps up. The room has emptied, and quite possibly has been for some time. I didn’t realize that I was still standing up next to the First, my hands tucked behind my back and my wings parted just like hers.

I’d like to think I’d bring her honor.

Sometimes, I wonder if my mother would feel any pride for me. Or if this isn’t the life she wanted for me.

I wouldn’t know. I’m not allowed to ask about her.

"Yes?" I answer Lev, who is still staring at me. Drawing myself taller, I tuck my wings in tighter and descend the steps, my pants swishing against the stone.

Our dress isn’t that different from most other vrakken. We are all warriors, after all, and we cannot be restricted at any time.

My tunic and pants are close cut and black like everyone else, though my top has a higher neck and my pants flare at the bottom to cover my boots. It is almost robe-like, except for the fact that my arms are bared, the sleeves cut close around my shoulders and the back curving in to settle between my wings where they meet my back.

Lev wears the same attire. "Do you have time to practice?"

I stop before him, turning to look over the small vrakken. He’s young, younger than me, but he, too, has wings. I am uncertain if he’s vrakken born or Made. I didn’t ask my questions when he was dropped on the steps of my temple a hundred years ago, the membrane of his wings shredded and his back coated in blood.

Instead, I did what was done for me. I healed him and I taught him to follow the First and Akeldama. I showed him there is healing in our creators, and he took to it brilliantly.

We, to this day, have never discussed our pasts. I much prefer it that way, I have a feeling that Lev does as well.

"That may have to wait." Our heads both jerk toward the side entrance to the temple. Down the corridor are rooms, where both Lev and I reside, as well as the others devoted to the temple.

"Priestess Adelina." I incline my head, and Lev bows even lower. She is the closest I have ever had to a mother figure, though she has grown quite distant from me in the last decade or so. I took it to mean it was time to stand on my own.

Though it’s getting hard with shaky convictions.

"Nikolai will train with you later, Lev." Her eyes are piercing as they focus on me, the green shining like the moss that throbs with the wildsponts power. She wears the same tunic and pants as me, but a hood shrouds her face.

She says that it is so her sermons are focused on the god and goddess and not drawn to her. But I have always wondered if it has something to do with the scars marring her skin she lets so few see.

It’s rare for a vrakken to sustain such irreparable damage. It’s almost as if it has to be gods-cursed to not heal.

"Nikolai." Her eyes seem to pulse with the chaotic energy that runs rampant in these caverns. "The Council has summoned you."

2

JESSA

The wind tears at my skin, pulling tears from my eyes that I didn’t even realize had formed. My breaths are sawing at my lungs so hard I swear I taste blood, and I can feel warm drops dotting my legs from the way the vines and branches reach out to grab my legs.

But I can’t slow down.

"A wildspont." I laugh escapes me, so high-pitched I know I’m bordering on hysteria. "Go to a wildspont. What a fucking great idea, Jessa."

The words are the only thing that is keeping me from a full-on panic. Though the fact that I’m talking to myself probably doesn’t help my case.

Another snap sounds behind me, and I swear – I swear – it’s a footstep. I’ve rationalized everything else. The wind, my hearing, the movement of the vines that seem to have a mind of their own.

But growing up so close to the woods has taught me one thing: always trust your gut. And right now, mine is screaming to run. Something is close and whatever it is isn’t friendly.

"What a stupid, stupid idea," I mutter beneath my breath, shaking my head. I almost want to laugh because it’s the same thing that Tiera said to me just a few hours prior. And as ill-timed as it may be, the memory swarms in.