Wings of deception silve.., p.1
Wings of Deception (Silver City University Book 1), page 1
Copyright © 2023 by Victoria Pauley
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-7781022-5-7 (ebook)
ISBN: 978-1-7781022-4-0 (paperback)
Cover design by Opulent Designs
Headers and breakers by Aestheteam Designs
Formatted by Sullyn Shaw
Edited by CB Editing Services
Proofread by The Eclectic Editor
Map made on Inkarnate
Contents
Dedication
Author's Note
Silver City University Map
1. Hayliel
2. Hayliel
3. Raphael
4. Ezekiel
5. Hayliel
6. Hayliel
7. Theo
8. Hayliel
9. Raphael
10. Ezekiel
11. Hayliel
12. Ezekiel
13. Hayliel
14. Hayliel
15. Theo
16. Raphael
17. Hayliel
18. Theo
19. Hayliel
20. Hayliel
21. Raphael
22. Hayliel
23. Hayliel
24. Theo
25. Raphael
26. Ezekiel
27. Hayliel
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also By Victoria Pauley
This one goes out to anyone who’s ever felt like an outsider. Being different and unique isn’t a bad thing, and the people who make you question your worth don’t deserve your time. You’re perfect just the way you are. Be unique. Be weird. Be different.
Be you.
Author’s Note
Wings of Deception has been in my head for some time now and I’m thrilled to finally share it with you. While this is not a dark romance, the characters in this series all need to overcome their own issues. Some of these issues may hit close to home so please read the list below before diving in.
-This book features an FMC who struggles to fit in. She’s bullied and ridiculed for being different (not by the main love interests).
-Instances of prejudice between the different types of angels.
-Open door sex.
-Episodes of PTSD from past trauma with flashbacks of a witnessed death
-Mention of the prior death of a parent.
-A difficult relationship with family.
Silver City University Map
1
Run, Hayliel.
I push my legs as fast as they’ll go, rushing past fancy stalls with decadent aromas and the angry merchants that run them, pivoting to avoid their grabby hands before turning left down an alley. I mentally pat myself on the back for stuffing my long brown hair into a hat. It means there’s one less feature for them to identify me by if this goes sideways and one less thing they can grab hold of. Footsteps pound on the cobblestones behind me, followed by shouts of “Stop her!” but I won’t let them stop me.
Change is a scary thing. It doesn’t care about fear or denial, it just is. It’s a sentient being you can try to fight off but, in the end, it’s inevitable. Things can’t stay the same forever, no matter how much we may want them to.
That’s why I’ve been reckless. If change wants to take me, well … I’ll serve up some of that myself. There’s a market a few blocks away from our apartment, one that sells delicious pastries, silken gowns, and all the baubles a Pure-born girl could dream of. Despite living so close, I’ve never ventured inside. I’ve always been too afraid of what might happen.
But today, with all its change glaring me in the face, I put aside my fear. If they’re going to force us from our home, then I’m not leaving without a taste of their decadent desserts. Too bad someone figured out I didn’t belong. The market is only for the Pure, after all. And I’m anything but.
I press on, my shoes splashing through murky puddles as I make it to the end of the alley and pull myself up on top of the massive trash can. Gone are the sweet and savory scents of the market, replaced by moldy food and the stench of the poor. I could have just unfurled my wings and flown, avoided the grimy, filth-covered bin, but that’s too dangerous. There are too many watchful eyes out here, and my discolored wings aren’t exactly something people fail to notice. Instead, I jump high, grab the metal drainpipe on the side of the building, and climb.
Despite the warm day, the metal is cold beneath my fingers. Bits of rust stick to my hands as I make my ascent, but I’m at the top quickly, even with my short stature.
“She went down there. Don’t let her get away!”
I hold my breath, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the approaching guards. Not bothering to look down, I use every ounce of strength I have to pull myself up one last time and collapse on the roof. I just lie there. Tiny tendrils of brown hair have escaped my hat and now stick to my face, but I’m too scared to fix them. Deep breaths, Hayles.
Sound echoes from the alley as multiple angels rush in. If any of them saw me climb up here, I’ll be so fucking screwed. All it will take is one of them flying up to check the roof and they’ll find me. My overconfidence from earlier turns to ash in my mouth. Fuck! What had I been thinking?
An argument breaks out below, and I move, taking advantage of the noise to muffle my own. With only a few steps between me and the far side of the roof, hope flares bright in my stomach.
Then comes the flap of wings.
The rustle of feathers.
My heartbeat skyrockets, pumping wildly until the tingling in my chest extends to my hands and feet. If they find me, what will they do to me and my family? I can’t let them get caught up in this mess, not on our last day together.
I jump.
Thankfully, I’ve spent enough time up here to know the drop from one roof to the next won’t cause any damage, but it isn’t exactly pleasant either. I’m close enough to the safety of my room that, if I were lucky, I’d make it. But I know better than to rely on Lady Luck. That fickle bitch has never once shown up for me.
I press close to the wall, my pale olive skin helping me to blend with the shadow of the building, and listen intently to the angels in the sky. Their boots thump down above me — the sound amplified by stone — and I suck in a sharp breath. Covering my mouth, I wait. And wait. And wait some more.
Shit. How much longer are they going to look for me? My limbs stiffen, urging me to move from this spot, but I stay put. Just a little longer.
Finally I hear, “Clear! Our little flier is long gone.”
Relief floods my system, and I can breathe a little easier now that my pursuers are gone, but I still wait a few more minutes before allowing myself to move. I can’t wait to see the look on my parents’ faces when they see what I brought them. Giddy with excitement, I grin as I squeeze through a narrow passage between buildings.
Once I make it through, I lower myself off the side until my feet find the solid bar of my window. Almost home free, Hayles.
Reality crashes into me as I tug my window up and slip into my now-empty room. The boxes I’d packed earlier are gone, and only the faint scent of lemon lingers. Mom must have cleaned it while I was out. Turning my back on the room, I blink away the tears threatening to spill over. When I open them again, my determined blue gaze stares back at me from the reflection in the window.
A month ago we’d found an eviction notice pinned to our apartment door, notifying us that in thirty days we’d have to find somewhere else to live. A Pure family now needs the home I’ve lived in for my entire life, and we had no choice but to give it up.
As much as I want to, we can’t fight it. At least, not without making things worse. So, my parents packed up their belongings and prepared to make a new home.
I pull the strap of my bag from my shoulders, wincing at the ache running through them. I consider giving in to the need to stretch my wings, but I’m so used to hiding them, I easily shake it off and settle for inspecting the goodies inside my bag instead before heading to find my parents.
Mom’s in the kitchen, scrubbing the now-empty cupboards. “Where have you been, Haylie-bear?” She uses the nickname I’ve always hated, but now I fear I’ll never hear it again after today.
Shrugging off the sadness, I force a smile. “Well, we hadn’t really celebrated the move or my enrollment yet, so …”
Dad walks in, securing a fresh roll of tape to the dispenser. When he finishes, he musses up my hair and I roll my eyes.
“You’re always going on about how things happen for a reason and there’s always a silver lining, so I’m trying to embrace it. Here!“ I pull three massive pastries from my bag and hand them each one.
Mom’s eyes grow wide as she takes the flaky dessert from me, and Dad only chuckles when he takes his.
“You know, this day wouldn’t have felt complete without tasting one of these bad boys, kiddo,” Dad says before stuffing it in his mouth.
“Hayliel …” Mom counters, looking torn on whethe
“It’s fine, Mom. I got away without using my wings. Plus, in a few hours I’ll be long gone and no one will see me again.” Yup. I went there. What can I say? I’m a real mood killer.
Ignoring the sad look in her eyes, I take a large bite of the pastry and damn near collapse on the floor. Holy shit. This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Slivered almonds mixed in some type of paste on a flaky dough with powdered sugar? Yes, please!
“Has Dina told you much about the food at SCU? If they have these, I might have to enroll myself.” Dad licks the powdered sugar from his fingers as he stares at the last half of Mom’s pastry like he might just steal it.
“If they have these, then she’s been holding out on me,” I reply with a mouthful of food. Dina enrolled last year after acing the entrance exam, and though we haven’t spent as much time together as we used to, at least I’ll already have a friend at school. She knows me. Every fear and hope, even my secrets. With her by my side, I can get through anything.
“Your principal assured me you’d receive a brand-new slate today. You know you can call us anytime, right?” Mom sets down her pastry and pulls me into a hug.
With her distracted, Dad reaches for the last piece of her dessert but, as expected, he doesn’t make it that far. “Don’t you dare,” Mom scolds, though there’s no bite in her tone.
With one last squeeze, she turns to her pastry and picks it up before striding closer to Dad. “You can have it, but only if I feed you.”
Gag.
Of all the things I’ll miss about living here with my parents, this definitely isn’t one of them.
A short while later, I take a deep, calming breath before opening my eyes and staring at the wrought-iron gate in front of me. Only a few blocks from where I grew up, it shouldn’t have taken me so long to arrive, yet I couldn’t help but drag my feet.
This is it. Once I pass that barrier, there’s no turning back. Not that I could turn back now, but denial rides my ass hard. I don’t know what I envisioned my life to be, but it isn’t this. This place has always been a fairy tale, one I never considered would accept me, let alone allow me in on a scholarship.
But I guess that’s what life is like when the world constantly makes you feel unworthy. You start to believe it.
A shiver races down my spine, some odd sense of foreboding that I don’t really want to investigate. As optimistic as my parents are, I find it hard to adopt the same attitude. Maybe that’s because as much as I try to live a glass-half-full kind of life, something always knocks it over, spilling the contents and leaving it empty.
Shaking my head, I grab the handle of my suitcase and let go of those negative thoughts. I’m here now. It’s time to learn my powers, accept my fate, and hopefully uncover why my wings are so different.
With a confident sway to my hips, I step past the threshold and into my life at Silver City University.
2
The cement beneath my feet turns to stone and leads toward a pristine building in the distance. Its white walls sparkle in the late afternoon sun, and the scent of the ocean fills the air, making it feel like I’ve escaped Silver City altogether. Beautiful.
On the path up ahead, a single Pure angel waits for me with a smile. I look back once and shudder as reality sinks in. Everything is about to change. After years of dreaming about SCU, I finally have the chance to attend, and I won’t let anything stand in my way. I only hope it’s not just Dina that accepts me.
“Hayliel?” the man asks as I approach, his white wings tucked in casually at his back.
“That’s me.”
Like all angels, his face holds a youthful glow, but something about him gives off the impression that he’s far older than one would expect.
“I’m Professor Castiel, and I’m here to officially welcome you to our great school.” He opens his arms with a flourish, presenting the school behind him. A lock of hair escapes his ponytail, but he quickly tucks it behind his ear. “We’ll stop by the office first to grab your class schedule and other paperwork, then we’ll take a quick tour of the grounds on our way to your house. Are you excited?”
I nod, my smile bright as the tension leaves my body for what might be the first time in days. Something about his presence offers a sense of safety and security I don’t often feel with anyone outside of my parents. Especially not with a Pure. “I’m a little nervous too, if I’m honest.”
His grin brightens further, and he motions for us to continue on the path. “Oh, there’s nothing to be nervous about. We might have high expectations for our students, but just keep your grades up and you’ll be fine. In fact, you’ll probably find that life at SCU is quite similar to how you lived before.”
I laugh, my eyes trained on the glimmering building in front of us. “I very much doubt that.”
He doesn’t respond, releasing a chuckle as we walk in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from my small suitcase as it rolls over stone.
The path ahead branches out in several directions. On the left, large marble Pure angels loom over us, casting eerie shadows at our feet. Along the right are massive stone-carved books, opened to a page with delicately drawn words chiseled into it. My parents would love this.
My chest squeezes, but I try not to let it show.
We don’t turn in either direction, continuing straight toward the imposing white building. That must be where the office is. I hope they give me a damn map. This place is enormous!
“There are three houses within school grounds—Power, Knowledge, and Fallen. The house of Power is over there,” he says, pointing to where the angel statues line the path. “And, as I’m sure you can guess, the house of Knowledge is down the path to our right.”
My mind churns, trying desperately to memorize everything.
As if sensing my train of thought, Professor Castiel speaks up. “Don’t worry. You’ll receive a map along with your class schedule. And one can never truly be lost with the power of flight on their side, hmm?”
I smile, and my shoulder blades tense with the need to free my wings, but I keep them firmly locked inside. I’d like to meet a few students before I announce to the world just how much of an oddball I truly am.
As we approach the enormous set of white doors, a thought occurs to me. “What about the third house?”
“Ah, yes. The house of the Fallen is beyond the main hall and past the other campus buildings. You’ll find it’s not as easily accessible as the rest, and for that I apologize. I’ve been trying to get them to change it up, but you know how the purists can be.”
My eyes flick to his, and I almost stumble at his words.
“We’re not all elitists, you know. I do prefer my books over the company of others, and it’s not hard to guess why.” He winks, letting his wings retreat into his body before rushing forward to open the door.
“Thank you.” I’m completely in awe of this strange man who seems so different from the Pure teachers I’d met at my last school.
The silent feud between angels has been ongoing since before Mom and Dad were born. My now-estranged grandparents told me stories as a child that feel more like fairy tales than our history. The Pure against the Fallen. No one seems to care that our wing color is decided at birth. It’s completely random, not based on any oracle or prophecy. A Pure angel could be the cruelest being of all and still have snowy-white feathers while a Fallen angel could be a fucking saint and still get shunned by society.
Then there’s me: A complete and utter anomaly who doesn’t fit into any of the neat little boxes that society makes.
If most of these angels are like Professor Castiel, maybe my time here won’t be so bad after all.
Once inside, we follow signs for the office until we turn toward a large desk and Professor Castiel explains who I am. While he speaks to the man behind the desk, I try to stay present, but several pictures along the back wall catch my eye. The dates along the bottom of each photo tell which year they were taken, and a choir of angels takes flight in my belly. Regardless of wing color or status, every single photo depicts smiling students who seem genuinely happy. Will it be like this for me?
Hearing my name, I tear my gaze from the photos and sign a piece of paper, not entirely sure what it is I’m agreeing to, but I’d rather not explain why I wasn’t paying attention. With a loud thunk, the school receptionist drops a thick binder on the desk in front of me, along with a backpack filled to the brim.
