Page 67 of Hers to Claim

The darkness around her writhed. Dohal raced toward her at a speed she couldn’t even comprehend. Suddenly, he was all around her. She felt his presence tingling through the brands on her forearms and her necklace. Time slowed.

Rather than looking frightened, Vincent sneered. “You’re an even bigger fool than your father ever was. There are already forces gathered outside the city waiting for an opportunity to strike.”

“I can protect her,” Dohal snarled. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, the heat of his body so comforting and welcome along her back.

“Can you?” Vincent let out a bitter laugh. “Do you even know what’s coming?” He walked toward them. “If Basilio’s death hadbeen the only one, they might have ignored your little coup and let you cower here.” As he spoke, he seemed to be getting taller. At first Mari thought it was a trick of the light, but soon he was as large as Dohal, towering above her. Huge feathered wings sprang from his back. “But after Argento, after this.” He gestured at Dohal with a vague look of disgust. “They will fear you. And nothing motivates the powerful like fear.”

Mari didn’t care about his vague threats. She didn’t care about the forces aligned against them. She only cared about the hearts of those she had claimed for her own. The ones that were hers to protect. Hers to cherish. “Where is the phoenix?” The walls shook with her rage. The ground trembled. Tendrils of her magic began to curl outward from her, hungry and sharp.

Dohal’s magic swept into her, so hot she almost gasped as it burned through her body, scathing her nerves. He was bursting with power, and every scrap of it was hers if she wanted it. She had only to ask.

Vincent glanced over her again, as if he hadn’t seen her before, fear widening his eyes. “Oh, gods, what are you?”

Mari felt her lips curl into a smirk as the presence inside of her surged forward, taking over between one blink and the next. “You should have asked that question much sooner, seraphim." The goddess within her drew deep on Dohal and lashed out with their joined power, wrapping Vincent up without any trouble even in his true, more imposing form. “I am the Divine made flesh.” She let out a laugh like waves breaking. “But I am not the answer toyourprayers.”

She lifted him from the ground as he struggled feebly against the thick strands of her magic that wrapped him. “I can make your death take eons or moments. Tell Me Where He Is!” She let him breathe enough so that he could answer her.

“He’s in the basement,” Vincent gasped. “Over there.” His eyes moved to the left because he couldn’t move anything else. “I can help—”

The goddess cut him off by tightening her grip. She pulled him closer, until he was only a few inches from her. “You are fortunate that I do not wish to take the time to punish you for every wrong you have done to those who are mine. Consider this act of mercy theirs.”

She pulled with her power as hard as she could, ripping him to pieces as the tendrils of her magic tore through him. His blood bathed her, the sticky warmth of it filling her with such a fierce sense of pride. She took only a moment to revel in the power that surged into her from the seraphim’s death.

Dohal’s hand skated up her throat, tipping her chin back so he could meet her gaze. His eyes were as dark and deep as the cosmos. “I should return soon. May I speak with the witch?”

“Kiss me first,” the goddess commanded.

“It would be my pleasure,” he whispered as he slowly turned her around and then leaned down to claim her blood-drenched mouth with a searing kiss. Desire unwound in her belly, making her magic swell.

Mari regained control when the goddess stepped back, shivering as she tried to restrain the swiftly-growing power from bursting free. She groaned when Dohal broke the kiss and smiled down at her.

“Hello, little rabbit.” He stroked her cheek. “I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to greet you properly before I had to return to my cell.”

Guilt twisted inside her chest. “I hate the idea of you being there alone. When will you be able to leave for good?”

Dohal smiled sadly. “I can only fully protect the city while I am there. I won’t abandon my post now, knowing it would leave you vulnerable to those who wish to tear you down.”

“I’m not afraid of them.”

“I know you are not, but you should be.” He faded slowly from her view as time flowed gradually faster and faster, until it settled back to normality.

Rio was next to her in an instant, checking her for injuries.

“It’s not mine,” she assured him absently, remembering the blood.

Brow wrinkled in concern, Rio leaned over Dante where he lay on his side next to her.

“Is he okay?” Mari rasped.

“Yeah. Just knocked out.” Relief eased his expression until he glanced her way. “What the fuck happened? Was it Dohal again?”

When he asked her that she looked down at herself again, drenched in blood. “It was me,” she said with a sigh.

One eyebrow raised, but he didn’t ask more questions.

“He said Tris is in the basement.” She pointed to the area where Vincent had indicated. Indecision passed over his face in a quick flicker. “Go, I’m fine.”

With a nod he moved away, reluctantly at first, and then with growing confidence.

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