Avenged by an Angel

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Avenged by an Angel Page 28

by Heaton, Felicity


  He had to do something about the dragon.

  Now.

  Time was up.

  He pushed to his feet and tugged on his white trousers.

  “Wolf?” Emelia sat up, the covers tucked against her chest as she looked at him, her eyes sleep-filled but growing clearer by the second as they followed him around the room.

  “I have to go.” He didn’t mean for it to come out brusque, but his mind and mood were darkening as he thought about what he had seen and what the dragon had done.

  The warrior in him came online, studying everything she had shown him and piecing together the clues. He had seen that village. He was sure of it. He was also fifty percent sure he had seen that mountain range from a distance. A taller mountain stood to one side of it, a peak that had reminded him of the Matterhorn.

  The dragon’s home had to be in the same valley he had seen.

  It just had to be.

  “Wolf,” she said softly and he paused to look at her. Confusion crinkled her brow.

  “Go back to Archangel.” He focused on his apartments, unable to waste a second more.

  If he was right and he knew where the dragon resided, he could be there within the hour. He could end this. That thought had him drifting away from Emelia, not listening to her as he formed the bridge between him and his own realm.

  He teleported, landing soundlessly to avoid anyone hearing him and barging in, attempting to delay him. He gathered his armour and put it on, the need to go to Hell burning stronger in his veins with every wasted second.

  As his mind turned to the most recent memory Emelia had shown him, that fire became an inferno, one that threatened to consume him. He growled through his teeth and unleashed his wings as he summoned his blade.

  Black flames licked along it, not a trace of blue in them.

  The dragon had tried to force a bond on her.

  An attempt to enslave her.

  Now her blood was inside him, the bastard wouldn’t stop until he had succeeded in claiming her. He would keep attempting it, tormenting Emelia. Destroying her.

  Wolf wouldn’t let that happen.

  He focused to form a bridge between him and a place in Hell, and teleported as quietly as he could manage, landing in a brief flare of lightning.

  Only it wasn’t Rey’s valley he landed in.

  A great green dragon circled overhead, spotted him, and roared as it swept towards him.

  Wolf quickly brought the image of Rey’s valley into his mind before the Devil’s curse could kick in to sap him of his strength. Lightning arced around him, snapping at the ground, and his heart thundered into overdrive as the enormous dragon neared, flashing long white fangs.

  Heat blazed down his spine, an order to return. It shattered his focus, and he could only stare as the dragon neared him, opening its jaws and aiming right for him.

  It couldn’t end here.

  He shook himself at the last moment, threw himself to his right, and rolled across the rough black ground, grimacing as his wings tangled. He came to his feet and focused again, conjuring the image of Rey’s valley as he sprinted away from the dragon as fast as he could manage. It wasn’t far from this one. The teleport would drain him, but he could make it.

  The world around him disappeared.

  Pain rolled through him in a sickening wave, one that had his muscles turning liquid beneath his skin and had his head spinning. He growled and staggered as he hit the dirt, threw a panicked glance around to see where he had landed.

  It was the right valley.

  Relief crashed over him, and he sank to his knees, his vision distorting as the drain on his powers intensified, leaving him breathless and trembling.

  Two shadowy figures appeared before him, one female and one male, their wings furled against their backs.

  “Rey,” he started and then fell silent as his eyesight cleared.

  The violet-haired male was a fallen angel, but it wasn’t Rey.

  The blonde female standing beside him leaned over, planting her hands against her bare knees as she took a good look at him. “He the one?”

  She peered up at the male, but he was staring at her backside, his eyes blazing crimson. Heat flared in her own scarlet eyes as she straightened and turned towards him, not bothering to tug her tiny rubber skirt down over her exposed buttocks.

  “We can play later.” She danced her fingers over the male’s broad bare chest and let them drift downwards, over his abdomen as he lowered his head towards her.

  A groan ripped from the male’s lips as she grabbed his crotch and squeezed it hard, that fire in his eyes blazing hotter, until his irises glowed and his pupils stretched into thin elliptical slits in their centres.

  “The dragon says business comes first… and then you can come later.” She fondled the male, earning another throaty groan from him.

  “Inside you,” he moaned and shuddered, then slapped his hand down on her backside and hauled her up to him, his face darkening as he stared into her eyes. He shoved his fingers between her buttocks, tearing a trembling moan from her cherry-red lips. “I’ll come inside you.”

  She sagged against the male’s chest, panting as she writhed against his fingers, her black feathers quivering.

  The male braced his black-leather-clad thigh between hers and she rubbed against it. She didn’t stop him when he yanked the thick band of black rubber around her breasts down and grasped one, squeezing it as tightly as she had squeezed his crotch.

  Wolf staggered to his feet, not interested in becoming a captive of the dragon or their perverse display of what he could only imagine passed as affection between them. He would make his escape while they were distracted, caught up in each other.

  He stumbled towards the cave cut into the mountainside.

  Rey and his demoness would aid him, and the fallen angels wouldn’t know what had hit them.

  The female suddenly appeared in front of him, her clothing still askew, rose staining her cheeks. She spread her obsidian wings, and her expression went from half-dazed to deadly serious in an instant.

  “Nu-huh. Who said you could run away?” She grinned at him and raked her gaze over him from head to toe and back again, a flicker of interest lighting her eyes. She glanced beyond him to the male he could feel stalking towards them. “Can we play with him too?”

  Wolf wanted to vomit.

  He clutched his blade and mustered his strength, because no damn way he was going to become some sort of slave to this female and male. He would sooner cut off his wings.

  “No playing with him. Dragon said.” The male’s deep voice rolled across the bleak land like thunder.

  She pouted, looked down at her exposed breast, and casually covered it. “No fair. I bet angels taste delicious.”

  The male was behind her in an instant, twisting her arms behind her back as he pressed his thumb between her lips.

  He growled, “Only I get to come in here. You best remember that.”

  She moaned and greedily sucked on his thumb.

  When they looked as if they were going to get caught up in each other again, Wolf slowly sidestepped, easing away from them.

  He made it ten feet before the male’s crimson gaze snapped to him.

  The male shoved the female, and she fell on her knees, splayed out on the black ground, a growl peeling from her lips as she hit it face first.

  “The fuck was that for?” she spluttered and turned a glare on the male.

  He just smiled crookedly at her. “Wanted to see you like that.”

  She wriggled her backside. “Later.”

  Wolf definitely wanted to vomit now. He made a break for it, using his wings to speed him across the land and biting back a bellow of agony as they burned, quickly tiring. If he could get close enough, Rey would feel him.

  “If you think your fallen friend is going to help… well… they’re not home.” The female’s words made him falter, cost him his focus and sent him slamming into the ground as his wings gave out. />
  He skidded across it, flinching as small rocks bit into his face. When he stopped, he shoved to his feet as quickly as he could manage.

  It wasn’t quickly enough.

  The male grabbed him by the back of his neck, hauled him off the ground and into the air, so his feet dangled a foot above it. Wolf snarled and lashed out at the male, kicked him in the shin, and tore a grunt from him.

  Plan B it was.

  He would fight.

  “Zephyr sent a message through the Hell grapevine that he had gone after some mortal, of all things. The fallen and his lover were quick to respond. Flew out of here like bats.” The female shook her head as she sauntered towards him. “That one has a lot to learn about being fallen.”

  The male shoved Wolf to the ground, pinned him there by the back of his neck, and took hold of his left wing. Wolf was quick to make them go away, fear spreading through him as he struggled against the male’s hold. They could beat him, wound him, torture him for all he cared. If he could keep his wings hidden, they couldn’t do their worst.

  They couldn’t weaken him by removing them.

  He had read enough reports in Heaven to know that fallen angels loved nothing more than chopping angel wings off. It seemed to amuse the fallen to watch them suffer, to torment them when they were weakened and push them to the very edge. Removing an angel’s wings left that angel vulnerable to darkness, and with darkness already part of him, he was sure to fall.

  The female crouched in front of him, thighs spread, revealing a lack of underwear.

  Wolf looked away from her, stared at the ground, and slowly gathered his strength. He sent his blade away too, remembering what Rey had told him. The drain on his power weakened, becoming a trickle rather than a flood. He closed his eyes and breathed steadily, focusing on his body.

  “Did you kill him?” The female prodded Wolf in the top of his head, and he wanted to growl at her for believing him so weak that he would die from the way the male was pinning him.

  “No,” the male snapped. “He thinks to regain his strength. I can feel it in him.”

  Had the fallen angel retained his angelic powers? The reports Wolf had read had mentioned nothing of the sort, but it was possible. Rey had remained an Echelon on falling. This male had held on to his ability to read people through touch.

  Wolf cursed him in his head.

  It wouldn’t stop him from clawing the scattered remnants of his strength together for one last stand, though. He kept his focus on what he was doing rather than the two fallen angels, didn’t respond when the male hauled him back onto his feet and the female landed a solid punch to his gut.

  His armour blocked the blow and she grumbled something.

  Hope sparked inside him.

  His armour was angelic. Strong. Designed to withstand blows from powerful demons. It could hold out against a fallen angel, although he doubted it would last long against two of them.

  As the female went to strike him again, he tracked her with his senses, waited until her fist was nearing him and she had twisted at an angle before he called his blade. He instantly swept it upwards the second it appeared in his grip, ripping a satisfying shriek from her when it sliced along her wing.

  “Son of a fucking bitch!” She punched him hard, knocking his head back into the male behind him.

  The rear of his skull cracked off the male’s face and an unholy snarl filled the air. The male shoved him aside and launched at the female, grasped her by her throat and lifted her off the ground.

  Wolf twisted onto his feet, kicked off and unleashed a battle cry as he thrust forwards with his blade. It cleaved a long gash in the male’s thigh that spilled blood in a waterfall down his black leathers. He couldn’t stop himself from following through, barrelling into the male and taking him down.

  He spun the blade in his hand, his gaze fixed on the male’s chest as the fire that blazed along the length of his white sword turned black.

  Wolf brought it down.

  The female grabbed him by his hair and hauled him off the male, tossing him across the dirt as if he had weighed nothing. He rolled and bounced, cried out as he hit a rock with so much force that it jabbed hard into his side, shoving his breastplate into his ribs. He sent his blade away as he struggled to breathe, determined to hold on to what little strength he had. The drain on his powers weakened again, allowing the strength that had been flowing out of him to gradually return.

  He stared at the male and female, calculating his odds of survival. They were slim. If they didn’t kill him here, they would take him to the dragon, and that was a death sentence.

  He didn’t see the female coming. One moment she was in front of him, the next she was behind him, a blade sticking into his side. It burned like the fires of Hell, and he threw his head back on a hoarse cry, one that emptied his lungs until they burned too.

  The male was on him before he could recover his wits, battering him with rapid punches that knocked the wind from his lungs before he could fill them again. His vision wobbled, and a desperate need to fight swept through him. He shoved and clawed at the male in front of him, blocking as many blows as he could manage as he gathered his strength.

  His fist slammed into the male’s already broken nose, sending blood streaming down over his lips. The fiend licked them, grinned to expose his fangs as he tasted his own blood, and jammed his fingers into the place where the female’s sword had skewered Wolf’s armour. Wolf cried out as the male tore at his breastplate and the flesh beneath, opening the wound further as he peeled the metal as if it was paper, ripping it from him.

  He tried to stop the male from removing his ruined breastplate, but the female grabbed hold of him, pulled his arms behind his back and twisted his right one upwards, forcing him to his knees. The male tore Wolf’s chest plate away, exposing his torso, and the female released him and made fast work of removing the arms and the back of his armour.

  He couldn’t let them take the rest.

  He called his blade, roared with all the fury burning inside him as he lashed out at the male. The fallen angel was swift to dodge backwards, using his wings to propel him to a safe distance. Leaving just the female within his range.

  He pivoted on his heel as he put all his strength into standing, bringing his blade up with him.

  The female cried out as it cut across her chest, slicing from her right hip up to her left shoulder. She staggered backwards, desperately folding her arms over the wound as she looked down at it with wild crimson eyes. Blood covered her in an instant, flowed over her arms and down her thighs.

  “You…” She launched at him on a roar, her wings beating hard, and he grunted as she collided with him, lifted him off the ground, and soared into the air with him.

  Her hand closed around his throat, and she hit him hard, smashing her fist into his face, her lips peeling back to flash her fangs. His ears rang, mind spinning and vision tunnelling as she hit him so hard, he saw stars. Pain splintered across his cheek and jaw, his left eye throbbed, and he barely stopped himself from passing out.

  “You’ll fucking pay.” She twisted with him, and his stomach rebelled as they dropped, plummeting towards the ground.

  He needed his wings.

  It screamed in his mind, but he couldn’t focus to call them, didn’t have the strength to release them as every inch of him burned with pain.

  When they were close to the ground, she released him and spread her wings to place a few feet between them so she was hovering above him. He braced himself, even when he knew it wouldn’t help.

  She shoved her feet into his chest.

  Kicked.

  He shot downwards, the grim world a blur around him.

  And then fire exploded inside him.

  A black wave rolled over him.

  When it receded, his head was heavy, his hearing muffled, and he could barely breathe. He wheezed with each breath he managed to suck into his battered lungs. Every one he exhaled tasted like copper.

  “I want
to fuck him up,” a female voice sneered, distant as if something was in his ears, blocking them.

  Blood probably.

  He thought he might be standing, although he wasn’t sure how that was possible. He didn’t have the strength to stand, was scarcely able to remain conscious as pain burned through him in devastating waves, his body struggling to heal itself. Where to start? He wanted to laugh at that. He was sure every bone in his body had been broken.

  “I want to make him fall.” She sounded closer now, and angrier, if that was possible.

  “The torment of this angel belongs to me,” a male answered, his accent strange.

  Not the fallen angel.

  Wolf tried to open his eyes and grimaced as his lashes stuck together.

  Someone helped him by throwing a bucket of icy water over him. He cried out, the sting of it as it hit his wounds almost sending him back into the dark abyss, and sagged. Sagged? He was standing, then. How? He fought to focus on his body and frowned as he realised his hands were above his head and they were numb, his wrists sore.

  They had shackled him?

  He weakly tried to wrestle against the restraints. Someone laughed. The accented male.

  “I have to do something to pass the time while we wait for my mate.”

  Wolf clenched his teeth and couldn’t hold back the growl that rumbled in his chest as his rage kindled, sending strength flowing back into his battered body.

  The dragon.

  He opened his eyes, ignoring the pain it caused him because he needed to see the bastard, wanted to look him in the eye and make him see that he didn’t fear whatever the male had planned for him. He only feared for Emelia.

  The male was going to use him as bait.

  He was going to lure her into Hell.

  He locked gazes with the dragon and saw the sickening truth in his eyes.

  And when he had Emelia here, he was going to force her to become his mate, offering her something in return that she wouldn’t be able to resist.

  Setting Wolf free.

  He rallied, gritted his teeth, and grunted as he battled his restraints, twisting his shackled arms and grasping the chain that held him pinned to the black wall of the cave. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t be responsible for her condemning herself to a life he knew would destroy her. She would do it. His heart screamed that at him. He tugged on the chain, arched forwards, and tried to use his weight to free himself.

 

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