Page 143 of Hell Fae Warden
Maybe we weren’t supposed to be here, but something had pulled me here for a reason. I could feel it in my soul, the rightness of this moment.
“We can’t leave,” I said again.
Another blast hit the garden, sending more stones tumbling and crashing to the ground. Shouts echoed through the air as Unseelie burst into view and launched into the dusty sky.
Some of them had Hell Fae Brides with them, while others were holding ropes to keep one of the stone walls from falling.
“Brace yourself!” a voice called out.
It was the only warning we received before half of the barrier ripped apart.
The shock wave rushed through the ground and sent my braids flying, the strands becoming tousled as the reverberations had me jolting against the mossy floor.
This fucking outfit!I thought, groaning as the chains dug into my skin once more.
The one side snagged, squeezing on my rib to the point of pain and eliciting a sharp gasp from my throat.
Ajax’s black shadows swirled around me again, but I forcefully pushed them down with a rush of magic—magic I hadn’t even realized I possessed. It just came naturally, my spirit refusing to leave.
Ajax snarled as he replaced his muted magic with his hands, palming my face. “We have to leave,” he stressed, his dark eyes filled with concern. “It’s not safe.”
The intensity in his voice surprised me. “And go back to Purgatory, where I can be a fucking sex puppet on display?”
“No,” he snapped. “That’s never happening again, Cami. Never.”
I stared into his black eyes edged with blue flames.
Did he mean that?
Did he know what he was suggesting? Because Lucifer would do something far worse than just demote him from Warden if he tried to help me escape.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. He’d been demoted forallowingme to escape. Now he wanted to help me?
Too fucking late, Ajax,I wanted to say, but a cry sliced through the murky atmosphere, clawing at my attention.
I untangled myself from Ajax’s grip, my eyes searching for the source.
When it came again, this time with even more agony underlying the sound, I forced myself to my feet. Everything hurt, the outfit doing little to protect me from the elements.
But fuck this.
I had to… had tohelp. It was like this intrinsic need burning through my soul, demanding action. Demanding recourse. Demandingpurpose.
I hissed through the pain and forced myself to head toward the injured bride. Or I assumed that cry had come from an injured bride, anyway. It was too feminine to be an Unseelie.
My chains seemed to burn with unnatural heat as I moved, but I ignored it, my adrenaline pumping too hard for me to focus on anything other than identifying the source of that sound.
Find the source of that sound,I echoed to myself as I ripped off my shoes and jumped over some of the broken stones.
Ajax called out my name, but I ignored him, focused on the whimpering.
Stepping around one of the statues, I spotted one of the fallen brides—a red-haired female that I recognized from my first trip to the library.
Veronica,I recalled, her name having been engraved on the back of her shirt that first day.Veronica Scottsdale.
Her fiery strands clung to her face, going frizzy and limp in this inhospitable land.
Unlike the other brides I’d seen on the feeds earlier, she wore a sheer black dress with gold trim. It was just as revealing as the fitted warrior leathers but definitely not giving her much protection, as evidenced by her cuts and bruises.
