On Broken Wings

Chapter 16

Lucifer

I finished writing the letter off with a signature and tied it to a messenger bird's foot. The bird fluttered over to a window and flew out in the direction of the village. With me and Cassius here, I decided to send volunteers to the Garden in hopes of adding more hands to the hefty task—such content was written in the letter, which was now safely on its way.

The midday sunlight was muted, the wind carrying a cooler undertone scent. Giant branches of the ancient trees rustled, and the leaves showed their paler green underbellies, hinting at a change in weather. A storm was coming. Off in the distance were roiling dark clouds that had yet to pour heavy rain. Even the air itself seemed tangy and charged with electricity.

This went unnoticed to Cassius, who shifted his position in bed, breathing peacefully despite the gauntness that was his tired face. His wings were sprawled beside him; they took up most of the bed. Blackness devoured the remaining white feathers much like those storm clouds blotching out the blue sky. I was glad the pain didn't bother him in his sleep, though I knew it was only because of the medicine.

Sana gave him a larger dose for the pain than they recommended. The physician warned me they wouldn't be doing that again as it would put more strain on Cassius's poor body. It killed me to be this useless, unable to take his suffering away even for a fleeting moment. If only I could take his place so that he would have the chance to explore everything on this earth, so he could read through the entire archive of books and scrolls to gain all the lost knowledge in the world and put it to good use.

I stood next to the bed, unable to lay down next to his sleeping form, terrified of accidentally harming his fragile body. The muted lighting made his usual warm brown skin pallid and his once shining chestnut hair a dull black. An ache formed in my throat, impossible to ignore. I sat down on the edge of the bed. Cassius is lovely—he always will be—but seeing his cheeks waned of their healthy pudge nearly sends me over the edge of desperation each time.

"Please don't make that face," Cassius said sleepily, his voice rough. "It worries me."

His eyes were open. They looked directly at me, into me. I suppressed a shiver. "Forgive me, my love, I cannot help it."

"There is nothing to forgive." He smiled as if he had not just caught me on the verge of tears, pulled me close, and planted chaste kisses upon my face. His body was warm beneath the sheets.

Oh, my poor, sweet Cassius.

"You must be famished," I said.

"Extremely, though my stomach somehow feels the size of a walnut."

The comparison made me laugh. "I never thought a day would come when you admit your stomach has shrunk."

He punched me on the shoulder. "Are you calling me a glutton?" When I didn't respond, his eyes widened. "You are!"

"Nonsense. You eat well."

"It's hard not too when everything tastes so good," he muttered.

I clicked my tongue. "No pouting. I enjoy seeing you eat a lot. It's reassuring."

"Is watching people eat a pastime hobby for you?"

"No, just you."

"Well, that certainly makes me feel better." Sarcasm leaked into his voice, but his eyes were playful.

I urged a plate arranged with freshly cut fruits and warm bread rolls into Cassius's hands. He looked at the food apprehensively, lovely brown eyes wavering before reaching over to pick apart a roll. Nimble fingers pushed the smallest pieces of bread past his chapped lips. I felt my brows crease and bit back a worried comment. He was stressed enough as is. He does not need my thoughtless nagging about his appetite and appearance.