The Hidden (Shadowed Wings #1)(24)
“Instead of more beautiful dresses, do you think you could make me some pants and a couple shirts?” I ask. “I don’t have any money, but I’m a mechanic, and if you have anything that needs fixing, I would gladly trade my services for yours.”
Tysa mouths the word mechanic right after I say it. She looks puzzled, but it seems, the word fixing she understands, and her brown eyes light up with excitement. “Really?” she queries, and her unbridled enthusiasm makes me suddenly uncertain of what I’m promising.
“Yeah, I mean, I’m pretty handy, but even I have my limits. If it’s within my power and ability, I’d be happy to trade my help for some pants and shirts,” I agree, trying to be clearer on the terms of what I’m offering and expecting in return.
“Yes!” Tysa exclaims. “By all the stars in the sky, yes, I accept.” She curtsies and then starts to bounce away. She immediately comes back and curtsies in front of Ryn. “Are we all clear, Altern?” she asks, and when he nods yes, she scurries away again.
I watch her hurriedly weave through the people and out the door. I look back at Ryn who’s now wearing a cheeky smile and, once again, feel unsure of exactly what I’ve agreed to. I shrug, I guess I’ll find out soon enough. If it’s something I can’t do, then no pants for me. I’ll just have to deal with these two dresses. I look down at the strips of fabric barely covering me and cringe. I don’t know what the other dress Tysa made even looks like. I just hope it’s not more revealing than this one.
Please let whatever Tysa wants to be fixed be like a toaster or something, I plea silently.
A breeze sneaks in through the window we’re standing next to, and white strands of my hair tickle my cheek and neck. Ryn reaches out and catches one between his thumb and index finger and rubs it gently. It reminds me of when he was running his hands through my hair yesterday, and goose bumps rise up on my arms. I slap his hand away again, and evidently, he finds that amusing. He takes a step toward me, and my breathing picks up. I feel panicked and excited simultaneously, and I don’t know what that fucking means.
“Come, Falon Solei Umbra,” he practically purrs, and the way his lips and tongue caress my name feels naughty and inviting. “I’ll show you around,” Ryn tells me, and he turns on his heel and starts to saunter through the thinning crowd.
I watch him for a beat as he weaves his way toward the doors. He doesn’t even look back, he’s so certain I’ll follow him. I feel eyes on me, and I scan the room to find Loa and Zeph’s stares both fixed on me. Zeph’s eyes start to dip down my body, but they snap back up suddenly like he just realized what he was doing and put a stop to it. He glares at me like I’ve wronged him in some way, and I bristle against the vitriol seeping out of his golden honey gaze. I flip him and Loa the bird and then follow in Ryn’s wake, eager to get the hell out of this room and start figuring things out.
9
“So what was all that about?” I ask, gesturing behind me with one of the rolls I just jacked from the kitchen tour.
With all the stairs in this place Ryn has me trekking up and down, I need all the calories I can get at this point. Ryn gives me the side-eye as I swallow down another chipmunk-cheek inducing bite. I ignore his judgement; I’m starving. It’s like the plate of food Tysa already fed me was just an appetizer and now I’m ready for the main course. As soon as Ryn finishes showing me the courtyard or wherever he’s taking me right now, I’m headed back to the kitchen and camping out there until this gnawing need in my stomach is sated.
“What was what all about?” Ryn queries as we hike up several flights of stairs until I’m winded, and the sound of the waterfall that pours off the cliff castle pounds through every surface around us. I can barely hear past my deep gasps for air, let alone him, so I wait until we start making our way through some cave and things are a little quieter to elaborate.
“The alarms, armored gryphons, and the mysterious explosion? What was that all about?” I clarify as I scan the rocky ground in the dim light for anything I might trip over.
“We were just running a drill. That happens from time to time here. We can never be too prepared for anything and everything the Avowed may throw at us,” he tells me matter of factly.
“Yeah, Tysa was telling me about them and the Oh-f,” I try to say, but the word is a jumble of wrong in my mouth.
“The Ouphe,” Ryn corrects me, and I say it over and over again until it feels natural against my tongue and lips. I smile when I get it right and look over at Ryn like I’m expecting a cookie or a gold star or something. His eyes jump up to mine from where he was just staring fixated at my lips, and then he quickly looks away, refocusing on his path through the cave. I’m getting the distinct impression that Ryn is DTF, but that doesn’t make a lot of sense to me as he was all about the hate yesterday.
“Uh...anyway,” I continue. “Tysa made it seem like all the evil, enslaving Ouphe were all dead. What happened to them?” I press and proceed to finish the last of my roll stash.
“The warring tribes of Ouphe killed each other off, for the most part. Some groups escaped through the gates, and we hunted the rest that stayed behind.” Ryn states all of this very casually as we make our way closer to the light-filled exit. The brutality of the word hunt stands out to me and gives me the chills. I’m not sure why it makes me feel uncomfortable; I don’t know the Ouphe or the Gryphons really. Who am I to judge their history and how it was handled?