Page 162 of Wings of Lies
Aspen cut off his eager stuttering, holding a ball of flaming blue fire inches from Michael’s face. “I do not care who or what she is. You speak of our laws and then go against them like you’re above them. Now, she is mine to deal with. Take your wings and leave before I raze them from your back, Archangel Michael.”
“But— but—” Michael looked between me and my mom. “You can’t do this! We made a deal. They’re mine!” he finally spat out.
Aspen pressed his hand into the white metal of Michael’s chest. The surface heated to a fiery red and yielded to his touch, melting away. “You have seconds before I obliterate you from existence.”
Michael stumbled back. “Which Seraphim are you? Who sent you?”
“Leave us!” Aspen bellowed. His entire body erupted in blue flame.
Michael luscelered out, and any relief I would’ve felt evaded me. Aspen was too late.
I was dying.
“Lucille?” Aspen flung back the hood of his cloak and let go of his power, the rune under his chin a flickering light red. I’d take that. Warm hands pressed into my face. I gasped, and he snapped his hands back.
“You found me,” I said with rolling tears.
“Always.”
“How’d you escape? Why did he listen to you?” Each word I forced out was like dragging heated, barbed wire up my raw throat.Why didn’t he just kill him?
Lines pinched his face. His gaze raked up and down my body. His blue irises glinted with an inner light before becoming consumed by fire.
“Hold still,” he demanded.
“What happened?”
“Don’t speak, Lucille.” He gripped his sword in a shaking, cuffless hand. I glanced at his ankles, finding them free as well.
“What happened?” I rasped out again.
“You did.”
My brows pulled together as he raised his sword, hands still shaking. They never shook. Aspen’s sword worked like an additional limb. Anyone with a brain could tell Aspen had unparalleled skill with a sword. Yet, as it hovered behind his shoulder, ready to cleave through the air and into my chains, and I felt his overwhelming fear, it wobbled.
“You’re scared,” I whispered.
“Our tether is weakening. I sensed it through the Nephilim’s fear visions—it jolted me awake. I found the Nephilim locked in a struggle with the witch, and you were gone. I snapped. Somehow, I burned through the cuffs, and once I did, it was game over for the fucking witch.”
He swung down. The sword did nothing to the thick links.
“She’d never witnessed my power before. When she did, she begged for mercy. She spilled everything about that bastard, Michael—where he took you and his fear of Seraphim. They outrank him; their word is law, and I wield the flames of one.”
His flames sprung to his sword, licking up the edges. This close, the raging fire curled the hairs on my arms. He brought the sword over his shoulder and swung it into the largest chain across my chest. The clanking noise I expected didn’t sound a second time—instead, tangy metallic infused the air, and liquid steel oozed off the edge. The heat blistered my skin, and as my body temperature plummeted, the liquid metal steamed.
“No, you are one. Your mom was one.” I whispered. He was at least half of one. The other half must’ve been another angel paired with demon blood.
Hewas the first-born angel.
Aspen gave a sharp nod, but the rune under his chin didn’t like the reminder of his mom. It flared, and he cursed.
Unimaginable pain wrecked my body. My flesh remained exposed to the air, bleeding freely, stinging, throbbing, and jiggling when I squirmed. My insides boiled, then froze. I didn’t need any more agony, and yet… I would endure the searing heat of his rune if it could only free him from its influence.
I glared at Aspen’s chin. “I’m sorry I can’t touch you,” I said.
“Don’t apologize,” he forced out on an air of breath. “I’ve known agony for a long time, sweetheart.” Ever so gently, he smoothed away my trailing tears, the rune losing its battle and fading back into his skin. “But it’s nothing compared to feeling our tether shrink.”
I swallowed. “You should go.” He shouldn’t be here. I didn’t want him to watch me die. “Go and take my mom somewhere safe.”
