Stolas: A Dark Soul Series Novel by Randi Cooley Wilson

Author:Randi Cooley Wilson [Cooley Wilson, Randi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Stolas
Publisher: SECRET GARDEN PRODUCTIONS, INC.
Published: 2017-05-21T23:00:00+00:00

WAR OF HEARTS

Stone

WITH EACH STROKE OF BLACK that mars the pristine white paper, the muscles between my shoulder blades loosen, releasing the hard knots that formed from our earlier visit to the City of Weeping. Blood and water. I scoff and focus on my sketch.

The heavy door to the office opens and closes with a soft creak. The small burst of air makes the candles flicker and dance, leaving shadows on the walls and furniture. Even though I feel Hope’s intense gaze on me, I keep my eyes focused on my artwork, concentrating on shadowing the lines with charcoal.

“You’re interrupting.” My voice is so cold, it could cut through glass.

“Am I?” Hope replies sarcastically, not caring I’m annoyed at her intrusion.

“What do you want?”

“I knocked. You didn’t answer,” she states.

“Don’t knock on the devil’s door and expect him to answer.”

“You aren’t the devil.”

With a heavy sigh, I look up at her from my drawing. “I’m not your savior.”

“Maybe . . .” she starts, walking over to me, until she’s an inch away.

“Maybe what?” I like the way she studies my charcoal-covered fingers.

“Maybe, I’m your savior. Your . . . knightress in shining armor.”

An awkward silence falls across us as I stare at her mouth, which I need to stop doing. My blood stirs, remembering how soft and warm her lips are. “Are you saying you want to be the girl who turns my world from darkness to light?”

I swear the blue in her eyes turns the exact color of Hell, flashing completely black before turning crimson with fury. “Did you ever think that maybe I like the darkness?”

“After we left Hendrix, I threatened to turn souls dark if you lied or kept things from me. You shivered. Oracles don’t like the evil that hides in the shadows.”

“I could have shivered because you were touching me without permission, not at your empty threat.” She looks around, taking everything in before her curious gaze shifts and floats over me.

An easy grin crosses her pink lips as she lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “You know, we are living in the third millennium. Electricity and art pencils are readily available. You can even order them online from your phone and have them delivered. And yet, here you are. Locked away in a room lit by candles, fingers marred by charcoal. So, yeah, Stone, I do think you could use less dark in your world.”

I grip the charcoal stick so hard my hand begins to hurt. Her presence is something I’m starting to enjoy, which makes me a masochist. She isn’t mine. Getting close to her, and allowing her to breach my walls, can’t happen.

“Stone?” She tilts her head to the side, her long hair swirling across her shoulder.

“I prefer candlelight when I sketch. It’s softer. Less harsh than lightbulbs.”

“I thought artists preferred natural light?” she counters.

“Painters. Photographers. Artists who create in color need the perfect combination of warmth and coolness when using tints because the light in your room can alter your perception of the hues you use while creating.

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