Page 93 of Shadowkissed

DANTE

“Enough,” Seraphiel says, breaking us apart.

His boots don’t touch the ground. Heglides—like a god playing king in someone else’s dream. His wings ripple, six burning banners of light and corruption. His smile is carved from madness.

Liora stands tall, shoulders squared, her chest rising and falling too fast.

But her hands tremble.

And I feel it—every instinctin me screaming. Because something iswrong.

He twists his hand mid-stride—just a flick of his fingers—and Liora gasps.

She drops like she’s been punched in the gut, knees hitting the broken dirt, one hand braced to keep from face-planting.

“Liora!” I shout, but I can’t move fast enough.

I try.

But Seraphiel turns his gaze on me, and it’s like running into a wall of fire and ice. My legs lock. My breath snags. The power radiating off him is suffocating.

“You see?” Seraphiel purrs, looking down at her, smug as sin. “You may be powerful, little star—but you arenothingwithout control. Withoutme.”

She’s clutching her chest now, eyes squeezed shut, like something inside her is being ripped apart.

“You don’t have to do this!” she spits, her voice cracking around pain. “You don’t have to?—”

“I don’t have todoanything,” he snaps, his voice booming across the field like thunder tearing the sky in half. “But Iwantto. Iwill.Because you were made to kneel.”

He crouches in front of her, elegant and cruel.

“Submit, and I’ll let the rest of them live.”

My blood turns to ice.

She looks up at him, teeth gritted, glowing cracks starting to appear in her skin like starlight trying to burst through.

She’s breaking.

And I’m dying justwatching.

I push against the power holding me in place.

It feels like knives dragging through my ribs, but I keep going. My feet drag through blood and broken stone. Every step forward is like walking through a storm that wants to skin me alive.

“Get away from her,” I growl, voice more breath than sound.

Seraphiel doesn’t even glance at me.

He’s too busy watching her fall apart.

“Youlovehim,” he sneers, brushing a finger against her jaw. “How quaint.”

Liora trembles, trying to recoil—but her body won’t let her. Not with his magic inside her veins.

He keeps talking, poison dripping from every syllable. “Do you think that’s strength? That pathetic little ache in your chest? That’s yourundoing.”

“No,” I say, forcing one more step, sweat burning down my face, my fingers numb around the hilt of my sword. “It’s your fuckingend.”

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