Silver

Chapter 4

Time to figure out how the hell I was supposed to conjure my wings without jumping off a cliff. 

We were standing outside in the freezing drizzle of rain, and not only was my hair still wet from my shower earlier, but I was also in only a sports bra. Good times for Jordan. Grey eyed me, his arms folded across his chest. 

"They're an extension of your soul, Greene. A part of you. They'll listen to you," he explained. I hoped he was right. Before, when I had 'tried' to conjure my wings, they never came. Allison attributed this to my being afraid of what they looked like, so hopefully now they'd come without much restraint. Still, I felt a little anxious showing Grey my wings. Like he said, they were an extension of my soul, and I'm not an avid soul-barer. Even if it was to Grey. 

Okay. I could do this. 

I pressed my lips together and sucked in a breath, shivering now. I allowed my mind to wander a bit, picturing the huge wings extending from my shoulder blades, stretching outwards to either side of me. I could feel them. Strong, powerful, mine. I could feel them stretching and relaxing, the feathers bristling every so often in a gust of wind. I could feel the muscles flexing, anxious to reach towards the sky. 

I opened my eyes. 

There they were, curling back inwards towards my body to rest against my back. The tips of the feathers touched the grass beneath my feet, and the very top of them was about a foot above my head. They weren't too big width-wise when they were all curled up though. At least they could fold up to become travel size. 

I turned to look at Grey. 

I couldn't tell if he was happy or not. His expression was emotionless, his arms still firmly crossed over his chest. I watched his cerulean eyes drift over them, narrowing ever so slightly every once in a while. 

"You inherited Fallen wings," he mumbled, sounding a little displeased. Yikes. I guess I was hoping for a better response than that. Maybe a 'wow, they're beautiful' or even a 'wow, they're not black!' would've sufficed. 

"Is that a problem?" I scowled slightly, suddenly feeling a little bit defensive over them. After all, they were an extension of my soul. Rude. 

He clenched his jaw slightly, cocking his head to the side. "Extend them for me again," he shifted his weight to his back foot. I sighed in irritation and outstretched them. I liked them like this. They made me feel big and invincible. 

Grey walked towards my right wing, stopping a foot in front of it and examining it. Oh my God, Grey, there's nothing wrong with my wings, will you stop? I feel like I'm at the doctor's office or something. 

He reached out and gently ran his calloused fingers across the spine of my wing, down the feathers. I shivered. It felt odd. Good, but odd. Probably because I'd never felt the sensation of touch before on them, but also like he was touching something- I don't know, vulnerable. 

"Grey?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest in frustration. 

"Are you mad?" He looked at me, a frown set on his lips.

"Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?" I raised an eyebrow. 

"They're grey. They're grey because of me," he replied softly, running his thumb across a feather. 

"What are you talking about?" I shook my head, pulling my wings back in towards my body. Grey sighed and ran a hand through his soaking hair. 

"All Angels are supposed to be created with white wings. That's the original Angelic state. But yours are grey, and they were created that way, because you Pledged to me. It's my fault you don't have white wings, and may never have white wings," he explained.