Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Felicity Heaton

  Marcus shot towards the breach in the white wall of Heaven but wasn’t about to leave his friend unaided. Apollyon had given every morsel of his power to create this chance for Marcus and it had left him close to death. He wouldn’t be able to stop his descent with his broken wings.

  Marcus focused on Lukas, surrendering some of his strength in an attempt to reach him from such a great distance, and sent a message to him. Apollyon needed assistance.

  A weak reply came back, barely clear enough for him to understand it, but he caught enough to know that Lukas had received his order and was en route.

  He hoped that he would make it in time and that Serenity had regained her strength, because Apollyon needed them both now more than ever. He had given everything for Marcus and he wasn’t going to fail him. He was strong enough to do this. He would save Amelia.

  Marcus rocketed through the gap in the wall, not slowing when he reached the white gardens on the other side. He twisted and dived through the waiting horde of blue-armoured angels, sending them flying with both his power and his speed. He wouldn’t relent. Not until Amelia was safe in his arms again.

  He blasted through the doors to Heaven’s fortress and beat his wings, shooting into the bright corridors, following his instincts to Amelia. He wasn’t familiar with this area of the fortress but something deep within him said that this was the way. He ground to a halt when he reached narrower white marble corridors and couldn’t use his wings anymore.

  Marcus brought his spear out in front of him, focused so the staff shortened in his hand, and then broke the two blades apart again. A spear was no use in such narrow hallways. He pounded on foot through the maze of corridors, diving into doorways whenever he spotted angels ahead. His mission wasn’t to fight all who stood in his way. It was faster to avoid as many as possible and conserve his energy.

  That wasn’t going to be possible when he came close to Amelia though. She would be under heavy protection. He was going to have to fight his way through them and then he was going to have to fight his way out of Heaven.

  He ran down another corridor and came out in a hallway with a two-tiered row of arches down one side that revealed a courtyard and beautiful white trees. Closer. Marcus looked around him, trying to figure out which direction he needed to go in next. He paused when he sensed someone approaching and then heard their footsteps echoing. Too much of an echo to be the hallway. He looked to his left, towards another long corridor. Whatever lay that way, it was so bright that he couldn’t make anything out.

  Marcus headed down the corridor, following it until he reached an arched doorway. He stopped when the light faded enough to reveal a huge rectangular room with white marble pillars that stretched so high into the heavens that he couldn’t see their ends.

  He brought his gaze down and fixed it on the angel he had heard.

  Lysander.

  “Where is she?” Marcus strode forwards, furled his wings against his back, and readied himself. He slid one blade back into its sheath at his waist and flexed the fingers of his left hand around the other.

  Anger rolled through him, fiercer than before, driving him onwards.

  His footsteps were loud in the cathedral-like room, echoing for what seemed like forever, and he didn’t slow his approach when Lysander raised his hand. Marcus unfurled his broad silver-blue wings, beat them and shot straight at Lysander. He caught the angel of death around his throat, closing his grip on him until he choked, and flew with him, slamming him into the far wall at the other end of the room. The marble splintered under the impact and Lysander grunted.

  “Tell me!” Marcus tightened his grip, throttling Lysander, his icy blue eyes holding the young angel’s gaze, and then started to unleash some of his power.

  Lysander’s eyes widened and he looked down towards Marcus’s hand. If Lysander didn’t start speaking soon, he was going to use his power to cut the man’s head off. A black part of his heart wanted Lysander to remain quiet. The urge for violence, the dark desire to tear Lysander apart as payment for his role in all of this was too great to ignore. It blazed within him, fire in his veins, controlling his actions.

  He slowly tightened his fingers around Lysander’s throat and unleashed a little more of his power. A twisted sort of satisfaction flowed into him as the panicked edge to the young angel’s eyes grew into outright fear. It would expend energy that he couldn’t afford to waste but Marcus was tempted to release him and force him to fight so he could assuage his hunger for revenge.

  Marcus narrowed his gaze and Lysander choked out a noise that sounded positive. He reined in his need to release the full wrath of his power on Lysander. It took long seconds for his fury to abate enough that he could convince himself to loosen his grip, but eventually he eased his fingers away from the young angel’s throat and let him slide down the wall to his feet.

  “They’ll kill me for telling you,” Lysander croaked and the fear in his eyes this time wasn’t inspired by Marcus.

  Had they threatened the young angel to force him to obey their orders? The things he knew about Heaven now and how far they would go to achieve their goals, he wouldn’t put it past them.

  “I will kill you if you don’t tell me. Make your choice.”

  Lysander’s gaze slid to one side and Marcus looked there to his right. Another corridor and the sight of this one filled him with dread.

  He knew it.

  With a roar, he turned and threw Lysander, sending him hurtling down to the other end of the room, close to the courtyard, far enough away that the young angel wouldn’t be able to catch him before he reached the hallway.

  Marcus dived to his right, running down the corridor at full pelt, his blade at the ready. He slowed to a jog when he saw the other end of the hallway in the distance. No one was there. Could he have been wrong? He was sure he would find Amelia here, had felt this was the right place, but there were no guards.

  Why wouldn’t they guard her?

  Marcus skidded to a halt and backtracked when he passed a bright white room. He paused on the threshold, breathing hard, and relief bloomed in his heart when he saw Amelia lying on a raised white marble slab with her eyes closed, her face peaceful in spite of her condition. Heavy chains secured her ankles and held her wrists above her head, tangling with her long silver hair. He quickly scanned over her. No trace of blood.

  His heartbeat started to level but he resisted his desire to rush over to her, instead taking calm measured strides into the room, cautious to the last. There were no guards and it played on his mind. They had left Amelia here with only weak little Lysander to protect her. It didn’t make any sense.

  They had left her so he could walk right up to her.

  His foot slipped into something and he frowned down at the pale marble floor and the grooves on it. They emanated from the altar where Amelia lay, forming an intricate pattern that created a circle around her. There were grooves in the altar too, deep cuts at intervals along the edges and down the sides.

  For her blood to run into.

  Marcus tightened his grip on his silver blade and stepped forwards.

  The moment he set foot inside the circle, white-blue light shone up from it and he fell to his knees. His blade clattered to the floor beside him and he curled up, clutching the sides of his head as pain ripped through his skull and then down his back, burning through him until he was on the verge of passing out.

  No.

  Marcus screwed his eyes shut and fought the words in his head, refusing to listen to them and acknowledge the order that was being sent to him.

  He shouldn’t have come.

  He had been a fool to think he was strong enough to refuse his duty.

  There was no need to guard Amelia from him when they had wanted him here, in this room with her, within this mark. The power of it flowed through him and tears stung his eyes as he tried to resist the command racing through his blood, pushing him to stand and take up his spear.

  He wouldn’t.

  He had
n’t come here to kill Amelia.

  He had come here to save her.

  Apollyon had risked his life for him, to give him this chance, and his friends believed in him. Amelia had believed in him. She had trusted him and he had to prove himself worthy of that trust now. He could be the man she believed him to be. He could be a good man. He could be worthy of her love.

  Another wave of power tore through him, stronger this time, and forced him to his feet. He shook his head and fought it, pain beating in his heart at the thought of betraying Amelia. Heaven had used him, deceived him, and it had shattered his world and broken his heart, tearing at his soul. He couldn’t do that to her too. He loved her too much to sacrifice her.

  Marcus focused on that feeling and looked at her, using the sight of her to reinforce the strength he gained whenever he thought about her and his love for her. He fought the command to take up his spear from the ground and pierce her heart with it, grasping the side of his head and twisting his black hair into his fingers. He wouldn’t do it. They couldn’t make him.

  The command that came this time was so strong that he couldn’t disobey. His limbs moved of their own accord, beyond his control now, and he held his left hand out. His silver blade rose into it and the moment he closed his fingers around the grip, the staff extended.

  He didn’t want this.

  But neither had Apollyon, and his friend hadn’t been able to stop himself either.

  It was inevitable.

  It broke his heart.

  Amelia’s eyes fluttered open and calmly came to rest on him, all the sorrow in his heart reflected in their silvery irises.

  “Have you come to kill me again?” she whispered and Marcus closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of the hurt in hers. It stabbed deep into his heart until he felt as though he was bleeding inside.

  Doomed to failure.

  “You will die with me,” she said in a quiet voice and then inhaled shakily. “You have the past three times you have killed me. I have taken you with me into the darkness.”

  Those words cleaved at his heart until he couldn’t take any more. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes and he looked at her, had to see in her eyes that she had remembered the terrible things that he had done to her and that she didn’t hate him. There were tears on her cheeks too, diamond drops that sparkled in the bright light engulfing the room.

  It was fitting that he died with her. Did he go out of choice, because he loved her and couldn’t bear what he had done, or because he paid the price for spilling her deadly blood?

  His heart said it was the former. These realms were nothing without her at his side. He could never live knowing what he had done to her. He deserved to die.

  The command came again and he struggled against it, gritting his teeth and holding his left wrist, desperate to stop it from moving. It shifted against his will and he battled it, trying to hold it back. He was stronger than this. He couldn’t kill her.

  He fought the order, wrestling with his arm and trying to regain control, and cursed Heaven for what they were making him do. His left hand moved and the grip of his right began to loosen. He spat out a curse aimed at himself this time. Fury burned through him, hatred of Heaven filling him with a dark need to tear the realm asunder and destroy it. This wasn’t how his mission was supposed to end. This wasn’t right. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t hurt her. He loved her so much, with all of his heart. It was hers now. He was hers now.

  His heart, his soul, his body. All of him. She was his master, the one who ruled him and the one for whom he would do anything.

  Marcus’s right hand shifted to grip the staff of his spear and he raised it, unable to stop it from moving. Amelia stared at him with wide fearful eyes and they were grey again, not silvery as they were when she was angelic. Tears stung his eyes and he growled through clenched teeth as he turned his spear so the blade was aimed at her chest. He couldn’t stop himself.

  His gaze met hers and a shiver coursed down his back and spread over his limbs.

  Amelia.

  She smiled at him through her tears.

  The smile he had ached to see these past few days.

  “I love you, Marcus.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Amelia flinched away and braced for impact when Marcus brought his spear down. The sound of metal rang out, echoing in her ears until she couldn’t hear and reverberating through her body until her fingertips tingled. She waited for the pain to come, her heart breaking over what Heaven had put Marcus through, and wished that it hadn’t turned out this way. She loved him so deeply, with all of her, and seeing him suffering because of her had been unbearable, but it was over now.

  Wasn’t it?

  She cracked an eye open and then screwed them shut when Marcus brought his spear down again with such force that her legs echoed with the vibrations of his powerful blow and her feet tingled.

  The chiming brought with it memories she wished that she had never remembered, images of all the times they had done this. She could remember dying in his arms so many times and how he would kiss her goodbye, taking her blood into his body as she drew her final breath and destroying himself in the process. She didn’t want that to happen again. She wanted to live with him, wanted to love him and be with him and escape this endless torture.

  His warm fingers closed around her right hand, the cold chains fell away from her, and then she was in his arms.

  “We need to get out of here,” he said close to her ear and disbelief crashed over her, swiftly followed by relief so sweet that tears filled her eyes.

  She struggled against her desire, afraid that this was all some cruel trick and that things were going to end in bloodshed and pain any moment now, that Heaven was only toying with her by making her believe that she was safe, and then surrendered to it and threw her arms around Marcus’s neck, burrowing her face into his throat.

  Marcus’s right arm slid around her back, holding her to him, and she wept against his skin, catching his scent each time she sucked in a sharp breath in an attempt to regain control and not look like a complete weakling. She had been so afraid, had battled those feelings and fought to keep them locked deep in her heart so none would see them, but now they flooded her, carrying her away and stripping her of her strength.

  Marcus murmured softly against her hair, whispered words full of warmth and affection and reassurance, and pressed a kiss to it.

  He held her a moment longer and then said something that put an end to her tears and reminded her they weren’t out of danger yet.

  “Can you fly?”

  Amelia thought about it. Since coming to Heaven, her consciousness and that of the other side of her had been slowly merging into one and she felt human again now. She wasn’t sure if she could manage to fly because she wasn’t sure if she remembered how. She had forgotten that she had wings at all.

  “No time.” Marcus took hold of her hand, shoved one of his curved silver blades into it, and then slipped his right hand into her left one. He held it tightly as they ran and Amelia struggled to keep up. Her legs tangled in the long flowing white and blue dress and it was hard to lift it out of the way when she was carrying a heavy blade. The thing weighed more than she could handle and she was afraid that she wasn’t going to be much use in a fight.

  She would be.

  She couldn’t let Marcus do all the fighting. Two swords were better than one, even if she had never swung a blade before. She could help him. They were in this together.

  Amelia pulled Marcus to a halt. He started to say something as he turned to face her but stopped when she used her blade to cut through the irritating skirt of her dress. It was a little higher up her thigh than she had aimed for. By the time she had finished tearing the material away, it barely covered her backside and Marcus was staring wide-eyed at her legs.

  His pupils dilated, darkening his silver-blue eyes, and she wanted to kiss him when he looked like that, so full of passion and desire for her. She wanted to kiss him
for being here with her and coming to her rescue. He had fought his order and had overcome it for her, but she wasn’t going to let her guard down around him. She wasn’t sure if he was free of the compulsion to kill her or whether he was still fighting it.

  She nodded and they started running again, side by side, back through the maze of pale corridors.

  “What’s the plan?” she puffed, fighting to keep up with him.

  “Out of here, and then upwards.”

  “Out the front door?” That didn’t sound like a good idea to her. She really wasn’t much of a fighter and she didn’t want Marcus to get hurt trying to protect her, or to have a chance to lose concentration.

  He glanced across at her. The beads of sweat dotting his brow and the pain in his eyes weren’t due to exertion from running.

  He was still fighting his orders and it was hurting him.

  The sight of him in so much pain, suffering so much, stirred darkness within her, anger she had never felt before. Fury. She wanted to destroy Heaven for what it had made him do and for what it had done to her. She had never raised a hand to anyone but all that was about to change. Heaven would feel her wrath. It would pay.

  They broke out into the open white-grassed area in front of the building and Amelia’s fury spiked at the sight of a row of guardian angels blocking their path, their blue and silver armour shining brightly in the golden sunlight.

  Marcus moved in front of her, his single blade at the ready, and she sensed his fatigue through where he touched her. It was taking all of his strength to fight his orders. He didn’t have the energy left to fight these angels too.

  He released her hand and extended his blade into a spear.

  Amelia had had enough.

  She wouldn’t let him suffer because of her. Heaven shouldn’t make them suffer.

  It should suffer.

  Her silver wings unfurled from her back and, without hesitation or an ounce of fear, she beat them, lifting slowly off the ground, anger fuelling her. She dropped Marcus’s blade and opened herself to the feelings colliding inside her, letting the fury flow through her unrestrained. It swept outwards from her heart until it reached the tips of her limbs and then came back in on itself.