The Rise of Fortune and Fury (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 5)

“Fuck,” I murmur in disgust.

“Amell named me, too,” Zora says, a tiny smile of fondness gracing her beautiful face. “He actually named me Zorasha, which means little bird, but he only calls me Zora.”

“Your name is very beautiful,” I say, which is the truth. But it’s also the only thing I can think to say right now. Otherwise, I might start a cursing rant about how unfair life was to her.

Another shrug because she doesn’t care for compliments. “Amell found me a home of my very own to live in and ended up giving me tokens so I could care for myself.”

“How old were you?” I ask, wondering if she even knows such things as she had told me before that birthdays were irrelevant.

“Sixteen,” she replies without hesitation.

I frown in confusion. “So you did recognize your birthday each year?”

“I told you celebrations were irrelevant,” she chides. “But Amell always reminded me each year of the day I was brought to the Underworld. So I had been there sixteen years when he moved me to my own place.”

“That seems a little young,” I muse out.

“He didn’t like the way the couple I lived with treated me,” she replied flatly. “Moreover, he didn’t like how the male started looking at me as I got older.”

I can’t stop the full-body shudder as I realize how vulnerable Zora was there. Not just to abuse and being an outcast, but to violations to her body.

“Did he… were you…”

I can’t even bring myself to ask.

“Nothing was ever taken from me that I wasn’t willing to give,” Zora says, understanding my concern.

“And you willingly gave to Amell.” My tone is soft, nonjudgmental. Clearly, Amell was a saving grace to her, even though he’s evil and loyal to Kymaris.

“I sort of forced myself on him,” Zora says with a grin, and I can see pride gleaming in her eyes. “I knew what sex was, because Amell had told me about it in the years past when he explained my periods and pregnancy. I figured out how to pleasure myself on my own. I wanted to put two and two together, and Amell was the one I wanted to do it with.”

I’m simply amazed at my sister. Despite the circumstances in which she was raised, her confidence in herself is astounding.

Lifting my coffee cup, I take a quick sip. “And um… how old were you when you and Amell…”

Zora tips her head in curiosity, wondering why that’s even a relevant question. One day, I’ll explain our societal rules with age and sex. I’m relieved when she answers, though. “It was just a few years ago. I had noticed he looked at me differently, especially when he’d take me flying—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I interrupt, holding my hand up. “Change of subject. He’d take you flying?”

“It brought me joy,” she explains. “Amell liked to see me happy, so yes… he took me flying starting when I was fairly young. I’ve been all over the Underworld with him.”

“And when you got older?” I press, because, gosh, it seems so romantic that the handsome Dark Fae would take young Zora on trips through the great caverns of the Underworld simply because flight brought her joy.

For the first time since my sister joined me here in the Earth realm, I see a true look of genuine happiness on her face. “Just a few years ago, I learned to fly myself.”

“What?” I exclaim, scooting my chair back slightly.

And then I almost pass out from shock when, with a huge rustling sound, wings erupt behind Zora and flare outward. White as her hair, delicate and not overly large. They tremor slightly, the feathers puffing out, and then she folds them back to where I can’t see them.

There’s no holding me back. I jump out of my chair and walk around the table, behind her chair to look at her back. Reaching out, I move her long hair out of the way. The long-sleeved flannel she’s wearing is undisturbed, but I don’t think I expected to see ripped material. The wings are obviously magical, and she could make them appear how she wanted to.

Slowly, I walk back around her chair, staring at Zora in amazement.

She tips her head back to make eye contact, lowering her voice secretively. “This is how I have power.”

“What do you mean?” I whisper.

“Amell wanted me to be able to fly, so every time they pushed magic into me and twisted it dark, he taught me how to harness some of it and hold it tight in a place all to myself. From there, it grew and grew over time. He had wanted me to have something when it was all over that I could use to bring me joy, and probably to help protect myself to some extent.”

“He gave you the ability to fly?” I say in amazement, and then I’m completely thunderstruck. “It’s why you and I have matching feathers on our legs. Why they appeared when Kymaris left stasis and entered the changeling. I thought there was some sort of angel connection but that doesn’t really make sense. It has to do with your wings and love of flying. I bet when she left to come to Earth, and you held tight to the power you’d been hiding, somehow our twin bond breached the veil too and we became tethered. The feather must just be a symbol born of your love of flying.”