Page 69 of Cursed
“This is too fucking easy. I don’t know what Lucian ever saw in you, Cain, but you’re pathetic.” Quicker than I could follow, Malachi loomed in my vision, a tower of muscle and wings, quiet fury on his cruel face. Instead of taking the pendant from my shaking palm, he thrust an elbow around my neck and yanked me to his chest. “I think I’ll take you instead. Who would think you important enough to protect with a Word of Power?”
I clenched the necklace in my fist and lunged toward Cain, but Malachi jerked me backward by my hair. The sharp pain brought tears to my eyes. With desperation, I turned my gaze to Cain, hoping for a miracle, or at least to wake up from this nightmare that had now become my life.
He rose to his knees, using the hilt of his broken weapon to gain leverage to stand, but black energy manifested and shackled Cain’s wrists. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his entire body shook, as if fighting against gravity. The tendons on his neck stood out, and his mouth moved, but no words sounded.
Malachi jerked on my hair, his punishing touch increasing the pressure, forcing me backward until his face came into view above mine. “There you are. I hope you’re flexible.”
I yelled through the pain and clawed at his hands, hating the spike of pleasure or excitement sparking in his violet irises.
He twisted his fingers and tightened the hold, bending me farther backward until the muscles of my back tensed at the forced, awkward position of my body.
Pretty sure I’m going to have some bald patches by the time he finishes.Assuming I’d even survive.
“You have a lovely scream.” He smiled, lessening the pressure.
I almost cried with relief.
The scents of smoke and leather flooded my nose as he pushed his face closer to mine, his lips hovering over my forehead. “I can see why he’s enamored with such a sweet soul. Breaking you will be my greatest pleasure.” He released my hair and grabbed me by the neck, dragging me upright, handling me as easy as if I were a child.
Malachi terrified me in a way Cain never had. Still, I wouldn’t let my terror turn me into a coward, so I gathered my courage.
“Fuck you,” I gritted out then spit in his face. Since he towered over me by more than a foot, my aim was off a teensy bit.
A clear string of saliva landed on his chin and, in slow motion, dripped onto his chest.
I squared my shoulders as best I could, considering he still held onto my throat and could bash my face into the ground or punch my nose.Who knows what other kinds of sick things he might do with his evil power?
A cold shiver careened through my legs. Why did I provoke him?
His lips compressed, and he shoved me away, releasing his hold.
I tottered backward, swinging my arms to keep upright, my wariness factor screaming alarm and demanding I not take my sight off him for one second.
Out of my peripheral vision, Cain—still under Malachi’s imprisonment—seemed to shift the tiniest bit.
Using an index finger, Malachi wiped the spit from his skin, lifted the fingertip to his mouth, and licked. He closed his eyelids and leered. “Better save your spit, darling, because you’ll be needing it for lube once you’re mine. Unless you enjoy it dry and rough.”
“Go to hell.”
I expected him to punish me, but instead, his violet-colored irises flared, and the sneer left his lips. “I’d have never guessed you’d be a fighter—my favorite type.” He laughed—the sound harsh in the dead quiet of the night.
Malachi turned toward Cain. “I suppose I should thank you for finding her. Perhaps I’ll even give you a turn when all is said and done.”
Kneeling in the dirt, Cain’s gaze moved to mine. Fury darkened his face, and I could almost hear his desperate apology in my head like a faint whisper.
“Come on, Cain. You know you want to play the part of the dashing hero and rescue her.” Malachi tossed his staff to the ground then pointed to me. “Come here.”
“No.” Blinding pain struck my wrists. The same black tendrils of power he’d used on Cain writhed around the joints, the shackles becoming snakes seeking warmth.
“I’mneverdenied what I want.” Malachi crooked a finger, and an unseen force pulled me toward him, the toes of my shoes dragging across the stone.
I tried to dig my shoes into the wedges between the rock that fitted together, but it was no use. My resistance was a pathetic sham. The dark angel had all the power in this situation. Cain had some of this power, but not enough.
Malachi’s wings folded inward, and he reached outward, grabbing the black coil between my wrists, and spun me around to face Cain.
Hopelessness clawed at my chest.How can we ever defeat someone like Malachi?My mouth tasted of sandpaper and bitter bile. We were going to die here.
Oh, Mom. I’m so sorry.
