head dropped back, giving me better access to his still-intact neck. I wasn’t sure decapitating him would end his life the way Kade explained it did to an angel or a Fallen, but it had to do something.
I arced the sword up again, slicing through the air. An image of Lucien cracking a whip over my bare back appeared as quickly as it went. The blade lodged deeper into Lucien’s neck. Still not clean through. The top of the blade created a crater-sized divot in the ice beside him. More coral smoke wafted out, floating just above the puddle he laid in. I jerked the blade out again, so much red and white showing through the now-butchered slice in his neck.
Fatigue bored into me. My arms burned from the effort of swinging the sword which must have been forged out of a hundred pound barbell. My legs quaked and slid beneath me. With every ounce of physical strength remaining, I lifted the sword again. When I brought the blade down this time, I saw the image of Lucien’s face, his mouth twisting up into a smug grin as he peeled the flesh from my bones. The blade made contact, digging deeper into his vertebrae, but still not all the way through.
The echo of footsteps closed in. While I still had time left, I lifted the blade half as high, angled the tip down straight over his neck, and dropped to my knees, adding my body weight to the blow. An eerie thwack reverberated through the room, followed by several smaller clicking sounds. I used the handle of the blade to help me to my feet, driving it further through Lucien’s neck. The clicking continued, spider web cracks forming in the ice around Lucien. The footsteps quickened and multiplied, along with the shouts seeming to come from every direction and none at all.
Shifting the sword to one hand, I pulled the tip away from the fractures in the ice. With the other I grasped onto Lucien’s hair and wrenched his head free from his shoulders. The sound of his skin ripping nearly did me in. Dragging Shirtless’s sword behind me and with Lucien’s head in my other hand, I hauled myself toward the door.
I managed four painstaking steps before the world spun. My chest fractured and my protein bar betrayed me. Before I knew it, the cold sweat on my forehead nearly froze my entire body. Red swam in the puddle of partially digested protein bar at my feet. I spit and wiped my mouth with the sleeve of Shirtless’s old shirt. It too came away red. I pitched to the side, the spins taking me again. Either Lucien’s essence was killing my human body, or I was doing that all on my own by continuing to use his power.
On tired, shaky legs, I avoided my puddle and slung on the layered robes and mask hanging behind my cell door. Then I started my long journey down the hallway, leaving the sword behind.
I didn’t need a weapon. I was one.
Chapter Nine
Rayna
The soft, steady rhythm of the drum’s calling sharpened by the time I reached the doorway at the end of the long hallway. Bright lights illuminated the large cavern, all pointed toward the wide platform in front of Lucifer’s ice castle. Beyond the platform, an army of Fallen stared back at me. Their numbers must have been in the thousands. Eager black-winged soldiers of all shapes and sizes waiting for what I had to assume were orders from their leader.
The gathering of so many had to mean Lucifer had something up his sleeve.
I too had a secret. The head of his only son beneath my robes.
With the white mask secured snugly over my face, I pulled the robes tighter around my shoulders and tucked my wings under my arms in an effort to keep them concealed. I had no mirror to tell me if it had worked or if they were misting through the back of the robe. But I had hope and Lucien’s head, not to mention his power pulsing through my veins.
My body was still weak, too weak to move much faster than a very slow walk. That was probably in my favor, because if I could run, that was exactly what I’d be doing—and that would
I arced the sword up again, slicing through the air. An image of Lucien cracking a whip over my bare back appeared as quickly as it went. The blade lodged deeper into Lucien’s neck. Still not clean through. The top of the blade created a crater-sized divot in the ice beside him. More coral smoke wafted out, floating just above the puddle he laid in. I jerked the blade out again, so much red and white showing through the now-butchered slice in his neck.
Fatigue bored into me. My arms burned from the effort of swinging the sword which must have been forged out of a hundred pound barbell. My legs quaked and slid beneath me. With every ounce of physical strength remaining, I lifted the sword again. When I brought the blade down this time, I saw the image of Lucien’s face, his mouth twisting up into a smug grin as he peeled the flesh from my bones. The blade made contact, digging deeper into his vertebrae, but still not all the way through.
The echo of footsteps closed in. While I still had time left, I lifted the blade half as high, angled the tip down straight over his neck, and dropped to my knees, adding my body weight to the blow. An eerie thwack reverberated through the room, followed by several smaller clicking sounds. I used the handle of the blade to help me to my feet, driving it further through Lucien’s neck. The clicking continued, spider web cracks forming in the ice around Lucien. The footsteps quickened and multiplied, along with the shouts seeming to come from every direction and none at all.
Shifting the sword to one hand, I pulled the tip away from the fractures in the ice. With the other I grasped onto Lucien’s hair and wrenched his head free from his shoulders. The sound of his skin ripping nearly did me in. Dragging Shirtless’s sword behind me and with Lucien’s head in my other hand, I hauled myself toward the door.
I managed four painstaking steps before the world spun. My chest fractured and my protein bar betrayed me. Before I knew it, the cold sweat on my forehead nearly froze my entire body. Red swam in the puddle of partially digested protein bar at my feet. I spit and wiped my mouth with the sleeve of Shirtless’s old shirt. It too came away red. I pitched to the side, the spins taking me again. Either Lucien’s essence was killing my human body, or I was doing that all on my own by continuing to use his power.
On tired, shaky legs, I avoided my puddle and slung on the layered robes and mask hanging behind my cell door. Then I started my long journey down the hallway, leaving the sword behind.
I didn’t need a weapon. I was one.
Chapter Nine
Rayna
The soft, steady rhythm of the drum’s calling sharpened by the time I reached the doorway at the end of the long hallway. Bright lights illuminated the large cavern, all pointed toward the wide platform in front of Lucifer’s ice castle. Beyond the platform, an army of Fallen stared back at me. Their numbers must have been in the thousands. Eager black-winged soldiers of all shapes and sizes waiting for what I had to assume were orders from their leader.
The gathering of so many had to mean Lucifer had something up his sleeve.
I too had a secret. The head of his only son beneath my robes.
With the white mask secured snugly over my face, I pulled the robes tighter around my shoulders and tucked my wings under my arms in an effort to keep them concealed. I had no mirror to tell me if it had worked or if they were misting through the back of the robe. But I had hope and Lucien’s head, not to mention his power pulsing through my veins.
My body was still weak, too weak to move much faster than a very slow walk. That was probably in my favor, because if I could run, that was exactly what I’d be doing—and that would
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