Avenged by an Angel

Home > Other > Avenged by an Angel > Page 34
Avenged by an Angel Page 34

by Heaton, Felicity


  She took a step towards him.

  “Emelia, wait,” Sable barked, and she looked at her friend. Worry shone in her amber eyes. “Just wait for Bleu and Taryn, and we can pick up Loke on the way. We need all the strength we can get if we’re going to take down fallen angels and a dragon on his home turf. Just think this through for a second, would you?”

  Emelia looked between her friend and the fallen angel. Sable was right, and Bleu, Taryn, and Loke would provide valuable backup, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Knowing that Wolf was in Zephyr’s hands, and the hands of fallen angels too, was a torment she couldn’t bear anymore.

  She placed her hand into Rey’s.

  “I’m in.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Wolf’s shoulders ached as he hung from his wrists. He had lost feeling in his hands days ago. Or was it only hours? Weeks? Time had lost its meaning, seconds stretching forever as he slowly weakened, the effects of the curse coupling with hunger and pain to steal his strength from him.

  He was tired of it all, sick of the way the dragon relished torturing him, did it slowly to draw out the pain, and sick of the fallen angels.

  But each day Emelia failed to show up gave him hope even as it stole it from him too.

  He hoped she would stay away.

  Just for a few more days.

  It wouldn’t be long now before he either fell, so corrupted by Hell and the things that were happening that the light in him died, or the dragon ended up killing him in one of his regular fits of rage.

  A dry chuckle tried to leave his lips but caught in his throat, no sound leaving him as he wished the bastard would gouge his eyes out and puncture his eardrums again.

  That way, he wouldn’t have to be aware of what was happening in the cave just a few feet from him.

  The overenthusiastic feminine cries and deep masculine grunts, coupled with the slap of flesh against flesh, painted a picture in his mind he didn’t want to see.

  At least they weren’t forcing him to watch this time.

  The female fallen angel had been taken six ways from Sunday by the male and took pleasure in forcing Wolf to watch her as the male pounded her. Almost as much pleasure as the male took from pulling out of her and spilling himself all over her and then strutting around with his semi-erect cock bobbing around, ruddy from release.

  The two were twisted, had revealed the depth of their darkness at times. The male sometimes let the female take the lead, but only if she choked him during the act. He took pleasure from it, roared loudly whenever he climaxed when she was strangling him. Sick fiends.

  The few times she had attempted to get Wolf involved, Zephyr had ordered her away from him. Given what Wolf knew about the dragon, he was surprised he hadn’t taken her too. The bastard was intent on getting his hands on his ‘mate’ though, and spoke of Emelia whenever the female offered herself to him.

  As the male fallen angel finished, releasing inside her for once, judging by her throatily murmured comments about his seed and her thighs, wind gusted into the cave, battering Wolf.

  The dragon had returned.

  “Go fuck somewhere else,” he growled, and Wolf cracked his eyes open and fixed them on Zephyr as he approached.

  The female grabbed the male fallen angel by his shaft and pulled him towards the rear of the cave. He grinned and stumbled along behind her, his gaze roaming down the bare curve of her spine to her backside.

  “Enjoy your break?” Zephyr came to stand in front of him, his emerald eyes impassive and green hair tousled, as if he had been ploughing his fingers through it, tugging at it. Before Wolf could muster the strength to tell the male to fuck off, he continued, “I was thinking while I was out… about the irony of our situation.”

  Irony?

  Wolf focused on his aching body, trying not to grimace as he held his wings inside. He couldn’t let the dragon get to them. It was what the male wanted, one of the reasons for his regular torture sessions. The fallen angels had told him that if they hurt him enough, he would weaken to the point where he could no longer conceal his wings.

  Zephyr looked him over, stepped towards him to close the distance down to under a foot, and reached a hand up.

  Wolf snapped his teeth at it when it neared his face.

  The dragon’s green eyes narrowed, golden sparks lighting them as he withdrew his hand. “I only meant to clear the blood from your eye. Now I think I will add to it.”

  Wolf bellowed as the male struck him hard, backhanding him across his left temple. The cut above his eye that had been healing reopened, spilling crimson into it, and he blinked to clear it away.

  Zephyr’s face blackened and Wolf leaned back on instinct. The back of his head smacked against the rough black rock and another roar tore from his lips as the dragon raked claws down the side of his face. His eye throbbed, pain shooting along the nerve. His stomach rolled in response, and he fought to keep the bile down as heat cascaded over his cheek and dripped onto his bare chest.

  He pinned the dragon with his one good eye, pictured getting free of the chains that bound him and butchering the bastard.

  Zephyr canted his head, and a slow grin stretched his lips. “I like that look in your eye… because part of you knows how futile it is. You know you do not possess the strength to fight me, let alone kill me. Admit it.”

  Never.

  He spat blood at the dragon.

  It splattered across his bare chest and sprayed over his cheek.

  The male closed his eyes, his jaw clenched, and he lifted his hand to wipe the blood away. “It really is ironic. You are weak in Hell, just as I am weak in the mortal world. We both have our powers stripped from us by entering another realm. We are so similar, yet Emelia wants you… and that makes me a little mad.”

  Wolf’s head cracked off the rock as Zephyr’s fist connected with his face, hitting him with the force of a piston and sending his tired mind spinning. The cave whirled around him. The dragon didn’t give him a chance to recover. He struck him again, following it with a crushing blow to his stomach that had black spots winking across his vision.

  The dragon’s hand closed around his throat, and he pushed Wolf back against the wall, holding him upright as his head tried to loll forwards, too heavy for him to lift now.

  All he could do was breathe as the male loomed before him, cold light in his eyes, a hunger to deliver pain and savour his suffering.

  Fire erupted in his side, and he threw his head back and yelled as it arced through him, setting every inch of him aflame.

  Zephyr laughed as he twisted his hand. Claws ripped through Wolf’s flesh, and he could almost feel his strength flowing from him. His wings pushed. He desperately pushed back. They had to stay hidden.

  He turned the whole of his focus to keeping them away as the male went to town on him, taking blow after blow from his claws, fangs and fists, growing numb to them as the pain became so intense, he could no longer feel it because it was all he knew.

  The fallen angels had returned at some point. He heard them speaking, their voices watery in his ears as Zephyr released him and he slumped forwards, hanging from his chains.

  “I… never… so many…” The female voice was patchy, and Wolf struggled to understand what she was saying. “Black… feathers.”

  Panic speared his chest.

  His wings.

  He jerked his head up, grimaced as pain splintered across it, and fought to twist it to his right, so he could use his one good eye to see. Fear brewed in his stomach, churning it like acid, and his heart beat at a sickening pace. The female had to be lying. He had been focused, determined. His wings weren’t out.

  His entire world felt as if it shattered around him as his gaze landed on white feathers, stark against the black wall.

  His stomach fell as he spotted all the obsidian feathers that marred his wings, more than a third of them turned dark.

  He shook his head, unable to believe what he was seeing, desperately trying to convince himself it wa
s a trick of his mind. His wings weren’t out. They were safe.

  White-hot fire lanced him, bolting along his left wing to his shoulder and rolling through him so quickly that he almost blacked out. Another followed it. A wet sound reached his ears with each one, every blow that had him wavering at the very edge of consciousness. He arched and screamed as he tried to move his left wing, fear flooding him as he realised what was happening.

  The dragon grabbed hold of his wing and bent it.

  Bone snapped.

  Pain so intense it stole his breath and assaulted every nerve in his body, making him jerk forwards, lashed him.

  Wolf vomited.

  The female fallen angel laughed, the sound grating in his ears.

  She would die first.

  He weakly gripped the chain attaching him to the wall, intending to lash out at her with his bare feet.

  Fresh agony swept through him, stealing his vision this time, and he sagged in the chains, all his strength washing from him as he felt tendons snap and muscles tear.

  He vomited again, unable to stop himself as the world around him twisted and turned. He was going to die here. No. He shoved back against that feeling, even when he knew it was true.

  There was going to come a point where the pain was too much for his body and soul to handle and he would wish for death. He would welcome it in that moment.

  Possibly even beg for it.

  He shook that fear away, refusing to let it poison his mind and weaken his resolve.

  He had to remain strong, because he needed to return to Emelia. He needed to keep his promise and come back to her. He couldn’t give up.

  He needed to see her again.

  She was his world. His everything. All he needed, and all he had ever wanted. He couldn’t give up. He wanted the future he had dreamed about, one with her at his side, where they were together.

  He wanted that so badly.

  Even when he knew his life was going to end here.

  Now.

  “Whatcha doing?” A different female voice wobbled in his ears.

  “Fuck off,” the male fallen angel snarled.

  “You fuck off,” she retorted. “I asked a polite question. I was in the neighbourhood and thought I would drop in. Are you performing a stick-ectomy? Because I hate to say it, but the stick in question is pretty far up his arse. I don’t think you can make him fall that way.”

  “How would you know?” Zephyr snarled.

  Who was this newcomer? She was… familiar? His head turned violently as the mark on his wrist throbbed, a low burning igniting in it. He vomited again, his thoughts blurring as he struggled against the pain burning in his body, emanating from his left wing in crushing waves.

  “He might be who I’m looking for.” Her voice was closer, and she was looking at him? He thought he could feel her eyes on him. “Didn’t recognise him at first… what with all the blood and vomit. Looks like you were having fun… but… I’m afraid it’s over now.”

  The dragon laughed and yanked on Wolf’s wing, almost severing it.

  “Now…” she snapped, her tone darkening, gaining an edge as hard as diamonds and the sharpness of a razor. “I’m going to have to ask you to stop doing that… or I will get upset. You see, I came all this way to rescue him.”

  She had?

  He tried to peel his good eye open. Blood matted his eyelashes and it was a struggle to open it, but he managed it just as the dragon released him and turned towards her, his green eyes glowing as the two fallen angels came to back him up.

  “You and what army?” Zephyr grinned victoriously.

  The fool thought he was going to win this fight.

  “Oh, my dark lord!” The demoness standing at the mouth of the cave, clad in revealing black armour with her dark leathery wings furled against her back, clapped excitedly and bounced on her heels, sheer unadulterated joy shining in her blue eyes. “I’ve always wanted to say this. Wait… wait… I have to get it right. It has to be perfect.”

  She dramatically cleared her throat.

  Fanned her arms to her side as if presenting something as she twisted at the waist, a charming smile plastered on her face.

  “Me and this army.”

  Rey appeared on the ledge, his horned black helmet and obsidian armour blending with his wings and the darkness beyond him as shadows swirled around his legs. Behind him, a great blue dragon landed, beating its wings to hold itself steady, a blonde female he recognised clutched gently in his enormous paw.

  Next to him, the demon king and the half-breed appeared, the male holding a broadsword as tall as she was. She twirled her smaller blade, her golden eyes bright as they narrowed on her enemies.

  And in front of them stood a brunette dressed for war in tight black combat gear and a blade strapped to her back, her fiery green gaze locked on Zephyr as she raised her gun.

  He had never seen a sweeter, more welcome sight.

  Or heard such a unique battle cry.

  Emelia squeezed the trigger and yelled.

  “Die, you son of a bitch!”

  CHAPTER 35

  Emelia was shaking like a leaf, so she was shocked when the white-feathered dart nailed Zephyr right in the middle of his bare chest. He grunted and looked down, green eyebrows pinching hard above his narrowing eyes as they landed on the dart. He lifted his hand, paused halfway to it and shook his head, his eyes closing briefly.

  Slurred, “Get them.”

  The two fallen angels broke past him, black armour forming over their naked bodies as they beat their black wings.

  Heading straight for her.

  Her heart shot into her throat and her hands trembled violently as she raced to reload the gun. She didn’t know what dosage fallen angels would need, but she imagined it was more than a dragon. They were the most powerful beings in Hell, after all.

  “Not… her.” Zephyr shook his head again, fumbled and managed to get hold of the dart. He ripped it from his chest and growled as he crushed it in his fist.

  The violet-haired male flashed fangs at her, his crimson eyes blazing as they shifted from her to someone beyond her.

  Asteria chuckled low in her throat. “I think he has a hard-on for you.”

  Emelia could just picture Rey shrugging casually as he said, “Don’t they always?”

  “Got to pick the biggest guy in the room. It’s all that fallen angel testosterone.” She suddenly shot past Emelia, so fast strands of her hair swept forwards, pulled free from her bun.

  The demoness broke left, did an impossible run up the wall, and kicked off, arching over the head of the blonde female fallen angel. The angel skidded, twisting to follow Asteria, and grinned. She launched forwards, towards an empty spot in the cave.

  Where Asteria would land.

  “Look out!” Emelia lunged, drawing her blade at the same time.

  The demoness flashed her a wink and disappeared.

  The fallen angel careened through the space where Asteria should have landed, stumbled and pivoted, skidding on the loose black dirt. The demoness popped up behind her, her grin wide and now-black eyes flashing with the fire of her elliptical golden pupils as she raked the talons of her black gauntlets down the female’s wings.

  The blonde screeched and arched forwards.

  The violet-haired male didn’t even pause to look at her. Not a flicker of concern touched his eyes as they narrowed on Rey. They collided hard and the male beat his wings, sending them shooting past Loke as he transformed into his human form.

  “We’ll go after them,” Sable said as Emelia kept her eyes locked on Zephyr.

  He was shaking the drug off already. Her dosage must have been wrong for him too.

  She glanced over her shoulder, about to ask how Sable intended to fight alongside Rey and Thorne when both of them could fly.

  White wings burst from Sable’s back.

  Emelia’s jaw hit the floor.

  Her friend gave an awkward shrug. “Surprise?”

  Anais lo
oked as shocked as Emelia was as she stared at the black-haired huntress.

  “I was going to tell you,” Sable said as she fiddled with the silver cuff on her right wrist. “Perk of being a half-breed?”

  Thorne tugged her arm and grumbled, “Fight now.”

  She petted his hand as he grew even larger, muscles rippling and burgundy leathers creaking. He flapped his dark leathery wings, his blazing crimson eyes tracking the battle she couldn’t see through the darkness. His horns curled further, curving around to resemble a ram’s horns and flaring like daggers in front of his temples.

  “Fight,” he growled and pulled on his mate again, jerking her with him.

  “Got to go.” Sable pulled an awkward face and managed a small wave before she was pulled into the air by Thorne.

  At the back of the cave, beyond Zephyr, Asteria was toying with the female fallen angel, practically dancing around her as she tossed barbs and taunts.

  Emelia’s focus locked on the dragon. She wanted to check on Wolf, but if she did, Zephyr would make his move, and she wasn’t sure which it would be. Attack her, or attack Wolf to force her hand.

  Her angel weakly tugged at his chains, his face a dark mask of pain as he wavered on his feet, his left wing hanging at a grotesque angle, dripping with the blood that stained it red.

  She silently told him to hold on.

  As soon as they were done with the dragon and the fallen angels, Rey would free him. The chains that held him wouldn’t be a match for the fallen angel.

  “You…” Zephyr growled and shook his head again, his green eyes rapidly clearing.

  She raised her gun and fired again.

  This time, she missed.

  The female fallen angel shrieked and turned, scrambling to reach for something. Emelia’s gaze leaped to her. Or maybe she had only missed her intended target. The dart she had fired stuck out of the fallen angel’s black wing.

  “Hey!” Asteria leaned to her right to see past the blonde and glared at Emelia. “I had this. Interfere again and I’ll snap the dragon’s neck for you. See how you like that.”

 

‹ Prev