The Novel Free

Reaper Unhinged



And that. That could be lethal.

Chapter Eleven

Keon carried Uri into the Underealm. Turned out that although celestials could fly back and forth from the Underealm, they couldn’t jump in. However, once inside the Underealm they could jump out if they wanted.

Uriel dangled in Keon’s grip as we hurtled through a river, colors swirling about us like a kaleidoscopic rainbow. My stomach twisted and flipped—excitement at the promise of seeing Azazel and Mal warring with the terror of heading into Limbo.

We exited to a night sky filled with diamond stars and a biting wind that clawed at my skin, desperate to peel it from my bones.

I always forgot how cold it was in the Underealm.

Keon flew ahead of me, hugging Uriel to him, wings beating the air as if he was punishing it. Below us, the River Enmity cut through the earth like a snake winding its way north. It wasn’t iced over as one would expect based on the sub-zero temperature, but then the human rules of physics didn’t always apply here.

The water was smooth, though, unmoving like glass. I knew on instinct that a person could be lost in its depths forever.

An urge surged up from the depths of my consciousness. The urge to swoop, to dive into the cool depths of the river and be lost, flooded me. I tipped forward, ready to take the plunge and find out what oblivion would feel like.

“Up ahead!” Keon shouted.

The urge to dive into the water shattered, and I pulled up sharply. What the hell had I been about to do? My pulse fluttered, and dark foreboding crept across my skin. The river… It had to be this place. I was probably reacting to it in some way. I bet it had some mystical pull or something.

Oh, fuck, if Keon hadn’t called out…

Focus.

Lights winked to life to the far right of the river. A village. Probably what Keon had been alerting me to. He veered toward it, and I followed, shaking off the strange tingling sensation that had taken over my limbs a moment ago.

Azazel and Mal were at the tavern waiting for me. Fine, so they might not have made it yet, hell they may not have gotten the message Keon sent, but I needed to believe they had.

Positive thinking had power, right?

They would be there to greet me. I was going to see them again after what felt like forever. Okay, fine, so it had only been three days, but still. I’d missed them way too much.

Uriel winked out of Keon’s grasp and appeared on the riverbank, and then Keon picked up speed, landing a few meters from him. I came in next, tipping back fluidly to land lightly on my feet.

“Good,” Keon said appraisingly. “Good landing.”

“Thank you.”

I glanced back at the water, serene and unthreatening now, and then quickly walked up the bank away from it before it could work its weird river mojo on me.

Keon rolled his shoulders and looked over at Uriel. “I thought you’d be lighter.”

Uriel was too busy studying his environment with a frown. “The air smells familiar,” he said.

“You never forget what the Underealm smells like,” Keon said.

Uriel frowned. “But I’ve never been here before.”

“You’ve never been to the Underealm?” Keon looked surprised. “Not even to liaise with the Dominus?”

“Only ever to the bridge,” Uriel said. “And that’s not part of the Underealm.”

Keon frowned. “Strange.”

I wanted to get going. I wanted to see my guys. “Which way to the tavern?”

Keon shot me an unreadable look, narrow-eyed, almost speculative, and then he shook his head.

“Follow me.” He set off, his footfalls muted by the snow.

Uriel and I fell into step behind him.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Uriel said. “I can’t believe how normal it feels.”

“Yeah, I was expecting fire and brimstone too the first time Conah brought me here. I was surprised by how normal it felt. It’s actually quite beautiful.”

We stepped onto a winding path bordered by trees and heavy with the fragrance of winter blooms I couldn’t identify and headed toward the lights up ahead. The village was on a rise, and the tavern was set apart from it—a travelers’ inn surrounded by land to park carriages on. There were several drakes and carriages already stationed here.

I scanned them, looking for a fancy royal one, but then kicked myself. Would Mal and Azazel come in a royal carriage? No.

“There’s the Academy carriage.” Keon pointed out a dark blue one with two crimson-eyed drakes attached. “Luena and the cadets are here. They may be under surveillance, which is why we’ll be meeting Malachi and Azazel in the Den.”

I jogged to catch up to him as we rounded the tavern and veered away from the cheery light, tinkling music, and delicious smells.

“I thought we were meeting at the tavern?”

“The Den is part of the tavern, the part where demons of lesser repute go to play games, eat, drink, and rest.”

We left the tavern behind and approached a low, squat building that had its doors open. Yellow light spilled out onto the gravel drive, and a couple of drakes were tied to posts outside. They pawed the ground as we approached. Wait. These weren’t drakes. They had no wings.

Keon gently gripped my arm and steered me away from the creatures. “Clipped drakes,” he said. “Some demons like their steeds grounded.”

“They cut off their wings?”

“They do it when the drakes are foals. These poor creatures have never known what it feels like to fly, and their aggression levels are much higher than regular drakes.”

“You think it’s because they can’t fly?”

He looked down at me, his cat eyes gleaming in the gloom, mouth tilting up slightly. “Their wings were taken before they knew they had them, but the need to soar never leaves. It’s in their blood, they just don’t understand it, and it breeds rage. It’s a missing piece. A hollowness they can’t understand.”

His lip curled slightly, showcasing a fang. Was he thinking about Lilith? About the holes she’d left in his memories all these years? About the emptiness he’d felt? The urge to hug him washed over me. I took a step toward him.

He tensed, his mouth parting as he looked down at me. He touched my chin lightly with his fingertips.

“Don’t pity me. I don’t like it.”

“I don’t pity you, Keon. I empathize because I care.”

His eyes flinched. “Then you’re a fool.” He touched my bottom lip, featherlight. “Because I won’t hesitate to kill you if my queen orders it.” He leaned in. “Never forget who and what I am, Fee.”

His mouth was so close I could smell his breath…cinnamon. He would kill me. Slit my throat, quick and clean. He’d end me for Lilith. I searched his cat eyes, noting the way his pupils darkened and flared, and then reached up on impulse to touch his cheek. He flinched but didn’t pull away.

His skin was cool and silken beneath my fingers, and although a part of me said I should not be touching him like this or at all, I couldn’t stop. A low purring sound rose between us as his chest vibrated. He was enjoying this. My pulse sped up at the knowledge. Fuck, what was I doing? I pulled my hand away quickly, but he grabbed my wrist, holding it inches from his face, eyes locked on mine in unrelenting contact.

I swallowed the fluttery feeling in my throat. “You do what you have to, Keon, and I’ll do what I feel is right.”

A strange pained sound shattered the moment.

Uriel stood staring at the drakes, face twisted in torment.

Oh, God.

His wings.

They’d taken his wings.

Keon exhaled. “I’ll be inside.” He strode off before I could stop him.

Shit.

Uriel took several steps toward the drakes. They blew smoke from their nostrils, clearly agitated by his proximity. They pawed at the ground harder, as if urging him to come closer, to get into range so they could attack.

“Uriel?” I laced my fingers through his before tugging him away from the drakes and toward me. “Hey, look at me.”

He tore his gaze away from the drakes and dropped it to our joined hands before raising it to my face.

His mouth parted as if he wanted to speak, but then he closed his eyes and took a breath. “I’m fine.”

No, he wasn’t. He’d been mutilated, and he hadn’t grieved. He’d picked himself up and gotten on with it. He’d acted like it didn’t matter, but it fucking did. His wings were a part of him. They were a part of who he was.

I placed my palm on his cheek. “It’s okay to grieve the loss of your wings. It’s okay to be angry and want to hurt the celestials who did this to you. It’s okay to rage.”

He covered my hand with his. “No, Fee. It isn’t, because if I allow myself to feel any of that, I’m afraid I’ll fall apart.”

I stepped closer. “You’re allowed to fall apart, Uriel, because I’ll be there to put you back together when you do.”

He opened his eyes and seared me with his ember gaze. The pupils dilated, drawing me in and eliciting a tugging inside my chest.

“Thank you,” he said.

I dropped my hand from his cheek with a smile. “But let’s wait till after we get that power source.”

He let out a surprised chuckle that warmed my heart. I gave his hand a squeeze and released him.

“Fee?”

My heartbeat accelerated. There was no mistaking that voice.

I turned to see Azazel standing in the Den doorway. To anyone else, he may have looked huge and forbidding backlit by amber light, but to me, he was anything but. To me, he was my heart.

He held out his arms, and I flew into them. He lifted me off my feet, crushing me to him, one palm cupping the back of my head and the bar of his other arm around my waist.

I was peripherally aware of Uriel slipping past us into the Den, but I was enraptured by my soulmate, by the connection that thrummed between us, reminding us how irrevocably we were linked.

Azazel’s gaze was hungry, devouring my features as if seeing them for the first time, and then he kissed me, claiming my lips with expert passion that made my heart swell and my core melt.
PrevChaptersNext