CHAPTER 16
The fallen angel slowly turned to face Lyra. She stood her ground, refusing to reveal her fear to him. Black mist writhed over his obsidian armour as he moved, caressing it like a lover, and trailed from the long black claws of his gauntlets.
His smile gained a cold edge. “You were difficult to find. I was beginning to think I would have to kill every slave I placed a tracker on before I found you.”
He frowned as he looked at her wrists, his displeasure on seeing her shackles gone written in every line of his sculpted face.
Behind him, Grey edged towards her, his white markings bright in the dim light. He circled the male and she did her best to keep the angel’s eyes on her, giving him time to close ranks with her.
The fallen angel’s crimson gaze slid towards his right, towards Grey, and narrowed, a glow illuminating his elliptical pupils.
“It would be wise of you not to interfere,” he drawled, his deep voice barren of feeling. “I am feeling a little testy after losing one hellcat and I will not be held responsible for how badly it will end for you if you stand in my way.”
Grey bared his fangs in response to that, his blue eyes bright and pupils wide as he hunted the male. He slinked towards her, his head held low and his gaze never leaving the fallen angel. His long banded tail twitched, the only outward sign of his nerves.
Fear that she could feel in him.
Fear that pounded through her too.
The fallen angel stared Grey down and then his scarlet eyes flicked to her, sending a shiver through her as a sickening sensation swept over her, a darkness that seemed to drain the light from her soul.
“I will get enough gold from your sale to set me up for at least another century.”
This time, she bared her fangs at him. Like hell. She wasn’t going to let him take her into captivity and sell her. She would die before that happened, and she would die a free hellcat.
The fallen angel slid his gaze back to Grey. “I can cut you in on the deal. Just step aside and you can have ten percent of the coin I will make on her. Think of it as a finder’s fee.”
Lyra’s heart kicked hard.
Grey soothed it by baring his fangs on a hiss, his ears flattening as they flared backwards.
And then he launched at the male.
They clashed hard, but Grey was no match for the fallen angel. The male easily shook him before he could strike with his fangs, sending him sprawling across the black ground. Grey rolled onto his feet and attacked again, his claws not strong enough to break through the male’s heavy armour as he raked them down his leg.
The fallen angel kicked him in the gut, lifting his paws from the earth, and Grey hissed and whimpered.
Lyra snarled, stripped off her clothes and shifted, her bones aching as they grew and shrank, morphed into a new shape, and black fur sweeping over her skin. She hit the earth running as her twin tails whipped out from the base of her spine and blue flames erupted down their lengths and beneath her paws.
The fallen angel looked her way.
She roared and kicked off, leaped high into the air and sailed towards him.
Rather than smacking her away as he had with Grey, the male tried to catch her. Shit. She twisted in the air, realising her mistake, and pressed her back paws hard into his chest. She kicked with all of her strength, springing free of his reach and knocking him backwards before he could capture her. She landed on the ground and the male grunted.
Her head snapped around.
Grey scrambled on the male’s back, claws raking over his shoulders, seeking purchase. He snarled and sank his fangs into the fallen angel’s black feathered wings, ripping a cry from the male’s lips.
Inside, she grinned, a flicker of pride warming her heart.
That was her warrior.
He had found a weak spot.
The fallen angel reached over his head, grabbed Grey by the scruff of his neck, and tossed him. He hit the dirt a few metres beyond Lyra, his pain echoing through her, and refused to remain down. He lumbered onto his feet and she took a step towards him as he shook his head and she saw the crimson staining the back of his neck.
The angel had sunk claws into Grey.
The scent of his blood hit her hard, ripped a cry from her throat and had her flames burning hotter, sweeping up her legs and spreading over her hind quarters.
Fire blazed through her veins like an inferno too, pushing her to act, and she couldn’t deny it or the need to sink her fangs into the fallen angel and rip him to shreds.
The bastard would pay for hurting her male.
She leaped at the fallen angel, her roar echoing around the mountains and sending the blue fire fluttering outwards from her teeth.
He raised his left arm to block her and she wrapped her jaws around it, hung on for dear life and bit down. His armour was solid, making her fangs ache, but she forced herself to bite harder, using all of her strength on the bastard.
The metal gave beneath the pressure.
Grey came out of nowhere, a ghost in the low light, and hit the male’s left wing hard, gripping it in his claws and fangs, dragging the male off balance. The fallen angel ripped her off him, but didn’t throw her aside. He dropped her at his feet and turned, reaching for Grey.
It struck her that he didn’t want to hurt her.
He didn’t want to damage the goods.
As he twisted to reach Grey, he left his back exposed to her.
Lyra growled and leaped on it just as he dislodged Grey and sent him tumbling hard and fast across the black dirt. His pain echoed through her, driving her on. She struck hard, sinking fangs into the angel’s right wing and tearing at it.
“Fucking pest,” the male snarled and grabbed her, the sensation of darkness and danger he emanated rising, sparking a desire to run as far as she could from him.
It was hard to ignore that instinct and to keep fighting him as he hauled her in front of him and held her there by the scruff of her neck as if she weighed nothing.
Grey growled from behind her.
The male tossed him a smirk, one that spoke of victory and flashed fangs.
A sickening cold swept through her.
She had let herself get caught.
He beat his wings.
She struggled like a wild thing, clawing and kicking at him, catching his face and neck and leaving long red marks on his pale skin. No. She couldn’t let him fly away with her.
He had barely lifted off the earth when Grey landed on his back, savaging his left wing, sending feathers flying everywhere. The male howled and grabbed him, swinging her with him as he twisted at the waist, and she struggled again as he threw Grey, harder this time.
She winced as he hit the dirt, rolled and shifted back into his human form.
Grey.
She kicked hard and fast at the fallen angel’s face with her back paws, a need to escape and check on Grey fuelling her.
The fallen angel glared at her, and beat his wings. His face screwed up, pain flashed in his crimson eyes, and he growled through long fangs as he looked at his left wing.
Relief crashed over her.
It was broken.
Grey’s last attack had torn a long gash down the curve of his black wing, exposing tendons and shredding muscle.
He couldn’t fly away with her.
She looked back at Grey.
Her heart stopped in her chest.
He was running away from her, into the distance.
The fallen angel laughed mirthlessly. “You need to get yourself a better male than that one.”
She looked back at him and growled, could read between the lines to see that he was insinuating that she should choose a male like him over Grey.
Never.
She bared her fangs, her fury rising, and her flames rose with it, coursed over her body and licked at her black fur.
When they reached her neck, the fallen angel hissed and released her, and stared at his hand.
The black metal of his gauntlet glowed red hot.
He growled and shot his other hand out towards her, long claws slicing through the air.
Something silver swept across them.
The fallen angel staggered backwards, his agonised bellow echoing around the valley and ringing in her ears.
She stared, blinked, unsure what had happened.
Until she saw the two fingers on the dirt in front of her, and Grey rushed past her, two silver blades clutched tightly in his fists as he thundered towards the fallen angel and attacked him, driving the male away from her.
Gods.
He was glorious as he fought, his expression savage as his eyes glowed bright blue. His muscles shifted beneath his bare skin with his fluid and graceful movements, his twin swords slicing grooves in the fallen angel’s black armour, cutting deeper with each strike.
For every blow the angel managed to block, Grey landed one with his other sword. He didn’t give the male space, kept pushing forwards, taking whatever strikes the male landed on his flesh, weathering them as he battered the male, attempting to overpower him.
Lyra growled and rushed towards him.
The fallen angel finally gained some space, using his battered wings to carry him a few metres backwards through the air. Grey gave chase, lowering both of his blades to his side as he sprinted towards the male.
The shadows that writhed around the fallen angel swept downwards to his right hand and gathered there, forming a shape.
Her eyes widened.
The fallen angel grinned.
Grey skidded into a hard right turn when the shadows formed a huge black blade in the fallen angel’s hand and he swung it, slicing through the air where Grey had been a second before. Grey snarled and zigzagged, kicking dust up as he evaded each strike of the male’s broadsword.
She growled and sprang at the fallen angel as he gave her his back. He snarled and battered her with his one good wing, making it impossible to keep hold of him. She landed at his feet and he turned on her, raising his sword at the same time.
Grey roared and she gasped as he appeared behind the male, sailing through the air, both of his blades held downwards and directed at the male’s back.
The fallen angel turned on a pinhead and brought his black sword up, sweeping it in a fierce diagonal arc towards Grey.
She growled and leaped at his left arm, sinking fangs into his armour and pulling it back with her weight as she dropped to the ground.
Throwing his blow off course.
Grey struck hard, driving one of his blades into the fallen angel’s shoulder as the male twisted with her. The fallen angel grunted and jammed his arm into her mouth with so much force her teeth ached and she lost her grip on him. He moved faster than she could track, his injured left hand flying towards Grey.
Who growled and tried to evade, leaning hard to his left. The male’s fist slammed into his face and Grey grunted as he fell, leaving one of his blades lodged in the angel’s shoulder.
The fallen angel snarled as he pulled it free and blood sprayed from the wound, quickly falling to a trickle that chased down the black plates of his chest armour. He tossed the blade aside and advanced on Grey, the black mist that writhed around him growing agitated and that oily sensation of darkness growing thicker, pressing down on her.
She pushed onto her paws.
Grey readied his one remaining blade, but he was unsteady on his feet, the deep lacerations across his chest, stomach and thighs taking their toll on him as they dripped crimson.
She couldn’t let him fight alone.
She focused on her flames and stoked them hotter, so they warmed her fur and covered all of her.
The male thrust towards Grey with his broadsword. Grey leaped backwards, dodging the blow, but the angel smiled coldly, as if he had landed it, as if he knew victory would be his now.
He threw his injured left hand towards Grey.
Grey instinctively blocked, even though the male held nothing in it.
And then he was shooting towards the angel as the male curled his injured hand towards him.
Powerless to stop himself.
She snarled as the angel pulled him through the air using telekinesis.
Roared as the bastard’s black sword pierced Grey’s left side and her male cried out.
Blood poured down his hip and his leg, stark crimson that had her vision turning blue as her fury overwhelmed her and her instincts seized command, driving her to protect her male.
Her mate.
The fallen angel pressed a boot to Grey’s hip and shoved him off the blade, tearing another pained bellow from Grey’s lips. He staggered backwards, fought to remain standing and dropped to one knee.
The male turned glowing red eyes on her.
His power swept over her, pressed down on her, had one thought spinning through her mind as she charged.
They weren’t going to win this.
Resignation rushed through her.
A huge black paw shot out of the gloom, landed on the fallen angel’s back and slammed him face-first into the dirt.
Her eyes shot wide.
Brink.
The enormous black dragon threw his head back, his long horns almost touching his wings as he spread them, and roared.
The fallen angel screamed as Brink used his talons to rip away the back plate of his armour and tear through his feathered wings, and hastily pushed backwards, under the paw that held him as Brink’s head came down.
His huge fangs snapped together, narrowly missing the fallen angel’s head.
The dragon grunted and lifted his paw, revealing the fallen angel as he staggered onto his feet. He drove his blade into Brink’s paw again, forcing him to back away.
Grey found his feet and ran at the fallen angel, his pain beating in her veins with each step. She growled and joined him, raced alongside him as they closed the distance between them and the angel.
The male swung their way, bringing his black sword around and holding it at an angle in front of him, blocking Grey’s blow as her male struck hard with his silver blade.
Brink snarled and raked a talon down the angel’s back, caught it in the back of his armoured trousers, and slammed him back into the dirt.
When the dragon lifted the male again, Grey was there, thrusting his sword forwards.
The fallen angel didn’t have a chance to block.
The silver blade pierced his chest, sank hilt-deep into it and punched out of his back.
The male threw his head back and unleashed an unholy scream that sent a chill sweeping through her and had every hair on her sleek body rising.
Brink’s left wing came down, knocking her and Grey backwards, sending them both sprawling across the ground.
She found her paws again and looked back at Brink.
Crimson light burst from behind his wing, visible through the leathery black membrane, and shone across his chest. He reared back, closing his eyes and tilting his head away.
The ground trembled and then bucked, and she sank low to it, dug her claws in as it shook beneath her, and the red light grew so bright it hurt her eyes.
She closed them just as a shockwave swept across the land from the direction of Brink, battering her and knocking her backwards, sending her tumbling further away from the dragon.
Wet slapping sounds filled the silence in the aftermath of the explosion.
The heavy scent of blood made her gag.
She cracked her eyes open and grimaced at the sight of Brink.
His wing and his body had shielded her and Grey from most of the blood and gore, pieces of flesh and bone sticking to his black scales and rolling down his leathery wing.
She gagged again.
Brink sneered, flashing a lot of fangs as he looked himself over, and then he reared back, turned away from her and beat his wings. For a moment, she thought he was leaving.
Pieces of the fallen angel hit the ground hard, thrown from his body by the powerful action of beating his wings.
“Are you okay?” Grey said from behind her.
Lyra shifted into her mortal form and looked back at him, an answer balanced on her lips, a reassurance that she was fine.
He collapsed, landing on his face in the black dirt.
“Grey!” Lyra rushed to him and skidded to her knees beside him.
She pulled him over, grunting at his dead weight, and her eyes widened. There was so much blood. Tears lined her eyes as she stared at the wound on his side, a deep hole that spilled crimson in thick rivulets. Her hands shook as she reached out to touch it, heart aching as she pressed her palms to it and tried to stem the bleeding, her hands slipping around in the warm liquid.
Gods, she was free, but at what cost?
She was going to lose the only male she had ever loved.
She was going to lose her mate.
Brink stopped beside her, back in his human form and clad in his black leather trousers, wearing a concerned look on his rough face as he studied Grey. He crouched on the other side of him to her, lifted his eyes from him and gave her back a spark of hope, one that she clung to as fiercely as she clung to Grey.
“Hold him, and keep him as still as you can,” he whispered.
He ran his midnight eyes over Grey again and shimmering sparks of violet and gold emerged from their depths.
The tinny scent of magic joined the odour of Grey’s blood in the air.
A shiver chased over her skin and she gripped Grey’s shoulder with one hand and his leg with the other, and pressed him into the dirt with all the strength she could muster.
Brink nodded in approval. “Just… hold on… no matter what… hold him down.”
Lyra didn’t have a clue what he was going to do, but she nodded to let him know she would do her best, and that she trusted him.
Grey’s life was in his hands now.
Brink placed his palms on Grey’s stomach on either side of the wound and stared at it, his eyes brightening, that scent of magic growing stronger, swirling around her and making the hairs on her arms stand on end.
The dragon smiled faintly at Grey.
“This is going to hurt you a lot less than it’s going to hurt me.”