He throws a bolt of golden light at me, and I leap to the side, rolling against the grass. As I flip, I feel something heavy under me and grab it, jumping up and thrusting it in front of me.
It’s a long branch, almost the exact length, and width of our training staffs. It’s well weighted, too. I’m going to be full of splinters from the rough, unfinished wood, but at least I’ve got a weapon.
“Really?” He laughs, “A stick? You’re going to defeat me with a stick?”
I also have a dagger, but he doesn’t need to know that. I want to try and get close to Leo. Maybe I can cut him free. He’s still kneeling where the archangel left him, hands bound to his feet. His loose body and bloody face scare me a lot. He might have internal injuries. I need to wrap this up.
Arrius comes for me, and I roll towards him, jumping up at the last moment and slamming the staff into his face. It doesn’t throw him back like it would a mortal—or at least, earthbound—opponent, but he does stop.
I take a few steps back, hammering left and right with the staff. I get him on the shoulders and midsection. He takes a few steps back, shaking his head.
For a moment I think I’ve wounded him, but then he begins to laugh.
“A stick can’t stop me, girl. I’m a heavenly being!”
He charges me. I roll under him, coming up near Leo. I pull out my dagger and slash at his ropes, quickly and surreptitiously, so the archangel won't guess what I’m up to.
I had intended to slash right through the rope, but my aim is off, and my arm is not as strong. Instead of cutting through the ropes, I only nick the edge. I flip the dagger back into my palm, rolling forward again to turn and face the archangel.
“No getting near your lover.” He shakes his head. “I can’t have you set him free. I don’t care of you both want to come at me, of course. I just don’t want to lose my leverage. I want you nice and distracted.”
We come together evenly this time, trading blows. My temporary staff shatters into splinters as it contacts his forearms. Screaming in frustration, I draw on my core strength and keep flashing out my hands, rocking back and forth from foot to foot to fully commit to each blow.
Arrius is not laughing now but pushing me back. His face becomes twisted, and he lets out a low growl. I manage to slip to the side and jump up, aiming a kick for his face. It connects to his teeth with a hard slap. He staggers away, blood blooming on his lip.
He doesn’t overwhelm me like Wrath did, but he’s strong. Really strong.
I am not prepared for this. My training has only just begun. I don’t know how long I can hold out.
He sighs in satisfaction, and my emotions must have shown on my face. I settle my features into cold determination. No matter how I feel, I’m not letting him see it. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that I’m scared.
He charges at me, too fast. He still doesn’t reach for a weapon, and this causes my hopes to plummet. That means he doesn’t think he needs one.
I falter, just slightly as we exchange blows. I try to recover, but he grabs my arm. My foot flies out, and I land several kicks to his knee cap. He cries out, but his grip on my arm only tightens.
He pulls me against him, pressing our bodies together. One hand goes around my waist, the other around my neck. I grab his arm, trying to tug it away from my throat.
He tightens it mercilessly.
“Don’t be scared, little ladybug. I’m just going to take a bit of fire out of you. I’ll only squash you a little. Then we can go where we need to go.”
I struggle as hard as I can, kicking at him, but he’s lifting me, and I can’t breathe.
I don’t know what to do. It’s over.
Suddenly, the archangel releases me, howling. He staggers away as I crash to the ground. He grabs at his neck where a mighty wound is bleeding over his shoulder.
It’s not much of a wound, even though it looks impressive. The archangel screams in rage, golden light starting to flicker around him. To my horror, the wound closes, and the blood stops pouring. He looks at me with true rage in his eyes.
His gaze flickers to Leo, crouching in the grass. Leo’s leaning on his long dagger he keeps strapped to his calf.
The archangel didn’t even bother to disarm him.
“Now I’m going to kill you, too!” The angel roars. “I might have spared you! You’re going to pay for that with your life, and you will not leave this world swiftly.”
I stand up slowly, something like steel in my bones.
Leo’s hurt. He’s almost done, panting. He’s covered in blood and bruises.
Someone powerful is in front of me, looking to tear apart my whole world, including me. Again.
I can’t take it. I literally can’t. Something in me, akin to patience and acceptance, runs up against the darkness of my soul and peters out.
I’m done.
I hear a howling scream, and with surprise, I realize it’s coming from me. My arms sink low, hands twisting into claws. From the earth, dark tendrils appear, writhing up out of the ground to stir around me.
The wind tears into the clearing. The trees knock against each other with hollow sounds. They no longer scare me. The wind is responding to me.
Just like the earth, giving up her darkness to me.
In the surrounding trees, I see the imps and goblins hopping around with excitement. I’m drawing up one hell of a load of dark energy. I’m not even sure how I’m doing it.
Leo sits in the grass, astonishment overtaking pain. He watches me with a blank expression until it breaks into a warm, triumphant smile. He nods.
Go get ’em, girl.
I smile back before my mouth opens in another wail. I draw upon the dark forces, reaching to the sky, flinging my hands out.
Shadow streams writhe around me. The wind screams into my hair, tearing around the clearing until it forms a whirlwind around me.
The archangel is watching with awe. It’s clear by his face that he isn’t just surprised—he’s jealous and astonished.
Whatever. He’s standing still.
He starts walking towards me, taking long, slow strides.
“You don’t scare me, Snow.” He eyes me warily. “No dark magic in existence can harm me. A pretty show, but nothing I can’t handle.”
My voice rumbles from my throat, so deep it doesn’t even seem to be mine.
“You talk too much,” I say.
With a flick from one hand, I send my dark ropes at him. They wrap around him, gripping his arms and legs.
He struggles, but he can’t get free. I just watch that for a few seconds, enjoying his helplessness.
“Ebony—” He tries to speak, and I close his mouth, letting the ropes of darkness wrap around his mouth. I can’t stop grinning, even though I know the dirty, bloody work I’m about to do.
In fact, that just makes my smile even wider.
I raise my hands and draw them slowly apart. Arrius starts to scream. Leo backs up. I feel an intense resistance against my dark forces, like he’s fighting with everything he’s got.
It isn’t enough. The archangel's scream becomes frightened, then desperate. His heavenly power has broken my bonds just enough to let out his final lament of defeat.
My face twists with the evil inside me. I raise my hands again and forcefully pull them in separate directions.
Arrius is torn apart. My dark, thorny ropes grip on to his limbs and wrench them in separate directions in time with my fingers. Body parts scatter everywhere, slowly disintegrating as my own dark magic—and the surrounding shadow fey—eat up anything that is left of the archangel.
I expect to feel tired. I’m waiting for my body to drop towards the ground in exhaustion.
But that doesn’t happen. Instead I feel energized. Triumphant.
Like I could go another round. Or more.
27
Ebony
For a brief moment, as my magic tore him apart, I see shattered bone and drops of blood. When his form breaks i
nto pieces it resolves into a magnificent, shimmering golden glow.
It’s the same color as his aura and halo. It rains over me like sweet summer drizzle, weightless, tingling, beautiful.
It seems to rise up in the air as well as scatter around us. As it falls, it gilds the grass and branches of the nearby trees. The small fey in the shadows run around in joy, sipping on the light, absorbing it, bathing in it.
The little things are having the party of their life. They must have hid when the angel came through, sensing his heavenly presence. When I came storming through the forest, they followed me.
Did they know this was going to happen? Or did they just follow me for the darkness that leaks through my soul?
I make a point of not talking to lesser fey. Most magic workers do, whether they are dark or light. Fey are tricky. They rarely tell the truth, and they always want to get something out of you that you don’t want to give. They are damn good at fooling you into it, too.
But I wonder for a few seconds if I should talk to them. If they might tell me things. They seem to be ignoring me now, as they mop up what’s left of the archangel, but I feel if I were to say the word, they would flock to me.
And do my bidding.
The thought is powerful and disturbing at the same time.
The golden lights finally shimmer down, the archangel’s remains taking time to disappear. All that’s left is his wings.
They look strange lying there, connected to nothing. The feathers curl as if they are in a furnace. The wings begin to turn black and decay while I watch. Within seconds, nothing is left but a pile of flesh. A few snowy white feathers toss in the breeze.
Now that my power has settled, so has the wind. The trees still knock their branches together, but it’s as if they are talking to me, not trying to scare me.
Perhaps I miscalculated the atmosphere of the night entirely. All this time, I thought it was out to get me. Perhaps, it was singing for me.
I wait for the last sparks to flare down, crackling like embers. I daren’t move. Who knows what enduring power an archangel’s magic might have? Just because I’ve destroyed him doesn’t mean his remains can’t hurt me.
As the glow begins to dim, I run to Leo.
My heart twists in pain, and I realize I forgot he was injured. I was so occupied with the fight and so reassured to see him get up and help me, I took it for granted he must be okay.
I’m relieved to be alive, not even sure where this power came from. It’s one of those hectic moments I should be becoming accustomed to by now—when I’m against the wall, something stirs from my soul and saves me.
But it didn’t save Leo.
He’s crumpled into the grass, his long dagger falls from his hands. He’s curled into a little ball, eyes screwed shut. He looks bruised and cut across every part of his body.
As I lean over and grab his shoulder, his eyes are wide with shock. He withdraws from me and scurries away.
I’m amazed that someone so injured can move so fast. I’m even more shocked by the look on his face.
Unbridled fear.
He isn't looking around at the fey. He isn't looking for the angel over my shoulder. He’s looking at me with eyes white rimmed and staring like a horse about to bolt.
“Leo?”
He struggles backwards again, slithering along the grass. He takes a deep breath and passes out.
I feel so sick, I can barely think. A monster headache starts to pound in my temples. I’m so scared and confused, perhaps even more than I was a few minutes ago.
I run my hands over Leo gently. He whimpers like a child deep in a nightmare.
His face is covered in bruises and cuts. He’s taken a few blows to the face. His arms and feet were tied so tight he has angry red burns across his wrists and ankles. He’s covered in small wounds, as if Arrius taunted him with a weapon, attacking him at different sensitive points.
It’s monstrous. What kind of heavenly creature could inflict pain like this? Sure, Arrius needed leverage, but he didn’t have to beat Leo to a pulp. It really seems as if a big part of this damage was simply for fun.
I run my fingers over the back of Leo’s skull, finding a nasty wound. He may have a skull fracture. I roll him over gently, alarmed at how his limbs fall loosely from the joints. He has a burn on his chest from great magic—I’m guessing this was the knockout injury. As I investigate further, I find several soft points that indicate broken ribs.
He could have internal bleeding, bone fragments, collapsed lungs. His breath rasps shallowly from his throat. I start patting him gently on the face. I have to get him up—I can’t carry him alone.
“Leo.” I say softly. He doesn’t stir. I sit back, panic starting to grow inside me. I don’t know what to do!
“Leo!” I scream at him, shaking him suddenly. I know I could cause him more injury, but I need to see him wake. I need to know he’s okay.
His eyes open slowly, taking in the sky with crossed brows. He gasps in a shallow breath, his chest barely rising. I don’t like the gurgle in his chest.
“Leo.” I whisper.
His eyes flash towards me, and as soon as he sees me, he struggles to pull away again. I sit still, wringing my hands.
“What’s the matter? Please, talk to me.”
He shakes his head painfully, lips working. He looks at me like I’m wearing a halo of snakes.
“Didn’t you want me to come into my power? Isn’t that what we have been training for?”
He shakes his head senselessly, mouth working. A gasp works its way out of him, but the effort is too much. He passes out again.
Hopelessness and stress rise up in me, and suddenly I’m crying. It’s bad enough to see my Leo in this state, my strong, immortal, unstoppable warrior, reduced to a wreck of injuries and terrors.
But seeing him recoil from me is what pushes me over. I can try to rationalize this all I want. I can say he’s hurt, brain addled, confused.
That would be a lie.
He’s afraid of me. That’s very clear.
Tears tremble at my eyes, and I try to pull myself under control. Leo commands dark forces, doesn’t he? He knows all about dark magic. How can he be so afraid of me, when this is exactly what he wanted?
I look up at the stars as if they have the answers. The wind stirs my hair, cool fingers comforting me and soothing my scalp.
There is so much welcome in the air tonight. So much that feels right.
I can’t stop thinking about Leo’s face. The wide-eyed fear. His terror was plain to see.
As the night tries to comfort me, I let my mind sink into a horrible place. What if my power is greater than Leo predicted? I thought he would be excited if my powers exceeded his expectations. I wonder if he might be jealous.
But I didn’t see jealousy. I saw fear.
Maybe, he knows I could destroy him just as easily. But if he feared that, why would he train me, stay close to me?
And what the hell is he hiding? For him to consider I’d use my powers against him, he must have a reason to feel guilty.
I know he’s evil. I know he’s associated with Rhiannon.
What is he plotting?
It was always a fine line. I need him to help me get strong. But not strong enough that he prepares me for his Queen.
Has he forsaken her? For me?
I’m clutching at straws, and I know it.
He was scared of me. I can’t reason this out and try and place the blame elsewhere.
My power came upon me from nowhere. It came in response to my instincts, a threat response. I was not in control of it, it was in control of me.
Anyone, no matter how powerful, would fear that.
I look at Leo laying peacefully on the grass. I’ll have to wake him again, try to get him up so we can try to go home. I’m in no hurry, right now. Maybe a few minutes of unconsciousness will do him good.
Maybe, when he wakes up this time, he won’t be so frightened.
I bow my he
ad, letting the tears trickle from my eyes. The sadness in me is a huge, aching wound. I thought Leo understood me. I thought he was on my side.
Now I don’t know if anyone is.
I shouldn’t have relied upon dark magic to win the battle. I don’t know what this means for the future. Every time my power comes on me this way, it's stronger. I’ve hurt people without even meaning to.
Obviously, this battle was out of my hands. I would have died if my dark soul hadn’t called upon extreme magic to use as a weapon.
But with my dark magic becoming stronger and more out of control every time I use it, I have to wonder where I’ll end up. What will happen to me if it overtakes me?
And whether I can protect the people I love, or if I will just keep on destroying them.
28
Seth
I don’t know why Wrath is making such a ridiculous offer.
I know he doesn’t need my help. He’s too powerful. Why would he put himself in a position of weakness, asking for my help?
I’d be astounded, if I wasn’t so wary.
My reaction to his offer is more disturbing than the offer itself.
I don’t reject it straight away. I find myself thinking about it. He may be right. I might never get to be close to Ebony again. I might have to get in a long line where I wait and wait and never get my turn.
I don’t want to wait around for my turn! I should be with her at all times. I should be the first chosen, the only! How many times has she rejected me now? I’m so unsure of her feelings there is a part of me that wants to see her diminished, begging, needing me more than I need her.
Wrath watches me, grinning. It’s almost as if he can read my thoughts. Maybe I’m just completely predictable.
I’m really confused about how I feel about her. Watching her, following her, begging for her attention, it has made me angry and humiliated. I haven’t felt love for her in a long time. Not the kind of love we have always shared.
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