Son of Saints: A Dark YA Fantasy Adventure: Renegade Guardians: Book Two by Kyra Quinn

Author:Kyra Quinn [Quinn, Kyra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-06T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Divine Punishment

Those who yield to temptation and stray from the path of righteousness will find themselves confined to eternal suffering.

-The Sacred Texts, 3:13

It didn’t take long for the high experienced on the streets of Carramar to fade. The higher I flew into the puffy clouds, the more my energy faded. I held my arms over my head and flapped my wings as if my life depended on it, Aster’s face still burned into my mind. She’d scold me for leaving on my own, but she’d know how to save me.

Nothing in life so far compared to flying. With the pointed green treetops like tiny splatters of ink beneath me, for the first time ever I felt free. If not for my mysterious illness I might have forgotten to seek Aster. The wind beneath my wings carried me through the sky as if I’d always belonged there.

I squinted my eyes and peered down, but from my distance Astryae resembled blobs of paint spilled over a dark canvas. Unless the gods granted me a miracle, finding Aster was impossible without flying lower and risking exposure or capture.

But the stars seemed to beckon me home. I lifted my chin and ascended towards the shimmering pale sliver of moon. Fatigue weighed down my body like weights shackled to my feet, but I only flapped harder in response. I had worked too hard to earn my freedom to allow anything to take it away from me. The spark of magic I’d tasted in Viktor’s kiss paled compared to the euphoria filling my chest.

The moonlight glittered against the mysterious ocean below. Anyone with a drop of common-sense left would have shivered with dread, but I had seen nothing more dangerous and beautiful than the crash of the waves against the rocks and shore. Most of my life before Aster and Viktor was spent locked away indoors, studying the domestic arts to prepare for the day I had a home and family of my own to care for. Proper ladies, my father had said, didn’t ruin their soft skin beneath the sun’s blistering rays. No, women were as delicate as a rose.

If only Father had lived long enough to see me now.

Brisk air bit at my face until I felt certain the tip of my nose and cheeks had blistered. The pale, lumpy blanket of clouds surrounding me thinned. A current pulled me to the left. A small voice in the back of my head urged me to land and gather my strength, but my stubborn streak proved stronger. I couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not until I had some clue what to do next.

Fate, however, had other plans. Mid-stride my wings locked up behind me. I plunged through the air down towards the tall green treetops, my scream trapped in my throat. No. No, no, no. Not here, not now. But no matter how hard I gritted my teeth and tried, my wings refused to flutter. The wind pushed up against me as I tumbled to the ground.

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