Touched by Death: Chapter 4
The wind whistles outside the tall windows, and the sconces on the walls burn higher. My father approaches me with twisted amusement shimmering in the black depths of his cold eyes before it gives way to something far darker. The palpable shift in the air tenses every muscle in my body. He stops in front of me with his hands clasped behind his back and his wings tucked. A smile reappears at the corners of his lips, barely there, a dancing flicker that’s soon extinguished when he backhands me hard. “How fucking dare you threaten the throne for a girl?”
I’d tried to go after her, rounding the corner just in time to see her slinking through the wall of guards. But my father clicked his fingers behind me, and the guards fell upon me. I refrain from using my fire magic since I know far too fucking well, my father’s punishment will be so much worse if I continue fighting. I’m strong, but I don’t rival my father. Yet.
Dariana, Ronan, and Alaric watch from the sidelines with matching worry etched across their faces. They’ve seen my father flex his alpha before, but it never gets easier.
“She’s just a girl,” he spits, then backhands me again when I bare my teeth at him. “Cut it out! I will not allow you to obsess over a female.”
“She’s not just a fucking female,” I growl, ignoring my burning cheek as I cut him a glare.
My father snorts, briefly splitting the air as he flexes his impressive wings before tucking them again. “You can wet your dick in any hole you want. What makes this angel so special?”
I know when to keep quiet.
“Interesting,” he muses, observing me closely and cutting me to my core with his probing gaze. “Maybe I should fuck her myself to see what the fuss is all about.”
My fight renews, and I wrench free from the guards, who jump back when my wings erupt in flames that spread across my shoulders and arms. “You stay the fuck away from her, Dad,” I sneer, stalking closer. “If you so much as lay a fucking finger on her, I will kill you!”
In my periphery, Ronan shakes his head no, but I don’t give a shit if I’m goading my father with my warning. Not when he’s encroaching on my territory and threatening to steal the girl I can’t get out of my fucking head.
Lucifer doesn’t attempt to school his amused smile. His eyes reflect the flames dancing tall on my wings and body. I’ve never lost control of my own hellfire like this before. “Are you challenging me, son? Are you sure that’s the card you want to play? I’m more powerful than you.”
“But I’m also your only son.” I shrug my shoulders carelessly, pretending to inspect the flames at my fingertips. My eyes flick up, and with a smirk to match his, I let the words sail through the air like silent arrows in battle. “The only heir to the throne. Unless, of course, you want to give it up to my uncle?”
My father’s smile falls, and he studies me while carefully weighing his options. We both know he needs me. “You’re marrying Dariana.”
Over my dead fucking body. I wet my lips before flapping my wings behind me to shrug off the flames. They fizzle out, embers glowing brightly at the tips of my feathers. I use my magic to put out the flames on my body. “You remind me every day.”
“Don’t get stupid ideas in your head, son. I don’t care how much you obsess over this girl; you’re betrothed to Dariana. She’s been promised to you since the moment of conception.”
Stalking past him and ignoring my friends, I bite out, “Nice talking to you too, Dad.”
“I’m serious!” His voice booms through the vast space, threatening to extinguish the flames on the walls as his magic flares.
Whirling on him, I point an accusing finger at his face. “So am I. There are no lengths I won’t travel to secure Aurelia as mine. I will kill every fucker who tries to stand in my way, and that includes you.”
Amusement trickles from his every pore as he throws his head back with a laugh. Behind him, the guards chuckle nervously, but soon stop when I glare at them all. “Son,” my father starts, schooling his features and taking leisured steps closer. His shoes clap on the marble flooring, and the firelight reflects off his raven feathers. There’s no denying the evil that resides in my father. The very blood that runs through my veins. “Do you know what your greatest weakness is? Besides the girl?” he adds as an afterthought.
With my hands fisted at my sides, I grind my teeth and fight the impulse to step back when he continues advancing. The stench of the hunt is thick in the air.
Not interested in a response, my father carries on. “You’re too impulsive.”
Movement behind me tenses my shoulders, but before I can react, a sack is placed over my head. My friends’ cries and grunts cut through the air as a scuffle breaks out.
“Take him down to the cellars. Don’t let him leave until he knows his place.”
My mouth is so dry that my lips have started to crack, and the deep lacerations on my face and arms sting like a motherfucking bitch. I can’t remember the last time I felt strong enough to lift my head. With my arms suspended from a hook in the ceiling, the chains dig into my crusted wrists. My toes barely touch the gritty ground, and coppery blood drips from the tip of my nose. My father’s guards have done a number on me since I was thrown down here and locked away. I’ve lost track of time. It no longer matters.
The light tapping of dripping water from somewhere behind me is the only sense of perception I can cling to.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
My father won’t kill me, but he’ll keep me here, beaten to within an inch of my life, to teach me a lesson in obedience. I brought it on myself when I showed my cards. I shouldn’t have exploded on him and warned him away from her.
Pain lances through my skull, causing me to wince as I imagine him seeking her out for his own cruel amusement. I’m too weak to conjure a flame. Too weak to do anything but wait.
A pitiful groan slips from my cracked lips.
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Even as the thought enters my head, I know the answer.
She’s with Amenadiel.
Where else would she go?
My damn cousin better keep his hands away from her, or to hell with the contract.
Breathing in the damp air and the stench of rot and death, I release a guttural roar that tears through my lungs like sharp blades. The chains rattle overhead, hauntingly loud in the blackness shrouding me. I need to get out of here. I need to put things right.
She thinks I’m marrying Dariana.
“Fuck,” I whisper defeatedly, swinging on the spot and dragging my toes over the gritty floor, suspended too high up to balance. The blinding agony in my shoulder joints has nothing on the thick, molten fury brewing in my chest. I’m going to destroy my father for keeping me from her.
Just then, the naked bulb overhead blinds me, and my father retreats from the shadows.
“Electricity,” he drawls, reaching up to still the dancing bulb. “It’s so overrated.”
“Then light a fucking torch,” I spit, blood spewing from my mouth.
Wiping away a speck from his cheek with deliberate slowness, he makes a point of looking at his thumb and smearing the bead of blood between his fingers. “Do you know how long you’ve been down here? Locked away in the darkness?”
My head lolls, a humorless laugh caressing my raw vocal cords.
“Three days.”
A tired breath escapes me. Three days away from Aurelia. Since when did I allow her to crawl beneath my skin like this?
“Three days of your cousin working his magic on her.”
The snarl vibrating in my chest has a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. My father likes to toy with me like a serpent with its prey. “How many more until she lets him between her legs?”
My incisors throb painfully, the sharp tips dripping venom at his taunts. “Shut. Up.”
“Unless, of course, you can convince me of why she’s not a threat to the throne.”
When I don’t respond, he shrugs his shoulders and kicks an abandoned knife on the floor out of the way. “I’ll tell you why she’s not a threat anymore: after the truth slipped out, she won’t let you near her again.”
“She won’t have a fucking choice,” I growl before I can stop myself. And then, because I’m already on a roll, I add, “I don’t care what she wants. I need her. She’s mine.”
“You think she wants a male angel as weak and pathetic as you? Look at you, son. Strung up like a weakling with your wings tied behind your back. You’re not even out there beneath the moonlight to protect her.”
My heart sinks at his words. He’s right; I’m weak.
“Your cousin is stronger than you and more able to win the female,” he taunts, adding salt to the wounds. “Do you think she’ll choose you after she sees you like this?”
My head flies up, and I wince as my skull explodes with blinding pain that bursts behind my eyelids. I try to peer at him but slam my eyes closed again and let out a tortured groan.
“She’s upstairs, looking for you. Do you want me to let the girl of your dreams come down here to see you like this? Pathetic and broken?”
He’s lying. I know he is, but my head still shakes and my lips still breathe out a plea for him to keep her away. If she sees me like this, she won’t want me. No female wants a male angel as weak as me. I can’t even fight off my own father. I’m at his mercy until he decides he’s had enough of me.
The door behind us creaks open. An elongating shadow crawls along the bloody stone floor before disappearing as the door clicks shut. My father turns to the guard and says, “Continue his punishment. Come find me when he’s unconscious and broken.”
DARIANA
Ronan closes his locker beside me and blows out a tired breath. I stare off into the distance. Students mull about, some with their arms laden with books on their way to class. When they spot us, they duck their heads and scuttle off. Unless they’re females. Then they flash their most charming smiles in Ronan and Alaric’s direction before noticing me. I do love watching the color drain from their faces at my snarl.
“Lucifer will release him soon.”
Torn from my thoughts, I slide my gaze across the crowds of people until Ronan’s muted, dark eyes lock onto mine. “Why the hell are we at school when Lucifer’s guards are doing God knows what to him?” Straightening up, I pull the bag’s strap higher onto my shoulder, careful to let my hair hide my face. I hate showing weakness like this. “We should try to free him.”
“Dari…” Ronan ducks his head to my level and forces me to look at him. As he parts my hair, his brown eyes soften. “If we tried to save him, we’d be thrown into the cellars, too.”
“Is that so bad?”
“Yes,” he breathes out, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into his embrace in a rare show of affection. “Lucifer can’t kill his own son, but he can kill us to keep Daemon in line.” His embrace tightens around me, and he places a soft kiss on the top of my head. “This is what Daemon would want. He’d want us to keep an eye on her.”
Aurelia…
The girl in question has not spared us a glance since that night, refusing to acknowledge our presence. Never once did I think I’d be this bothered by her disappearance act. All along, I’d convinced myself that she worked for Amenadiel. But she has hardly left Dmitriy’s side since that night. Almost as if she’s using him as a shield.
Every time I spot them together, my teeth gnash, and something dark unfurls inside me. I know Dmitriy is up to no good. I just can’t figure out his angle. And now that we know how powerful Aurelia is behind her sad smile…
“It’s not good enough,” I murmur, breaking our connection as I set off walking.
Alaric exits the girls’ bathroom and falls into step with us. “Dmitriy hasn’t spilled any of his secrets to Cosima.”
“Why would he?” My voice drips with bitterness. I hate that we’re clutching at straws.
“Because,” Alaric starts, flashing fang as his lips kick up in a smile, “they fuck on the regular. If he spills his secrets to anyone, it’s her.”
“And why would she reveal his secrets to one of Dmitriy’s rivals?” I ask with an eye roll.
Ronan slides his eyes to me as we turn the corner. “Like everyone else here, she wants a shot at the empty seat on the throne.”
“Oh, come on. That’s a long shot. Everyone knows Daemon is marrying me when the time is right.” The words taste foul on my tongue.
“The other girls still have hope.”
We enter the classroom and find seats at the back. Aurelia sits one row ahead, staring out at the darkness outside the tall windows, with a vacant look in her eyes. The left shoulder strap has slipped down her shoulder to reveal her smooth skin. As I watch, she slides her wavy hair to one side and picks up her pen. Then she drops it again as if she can’t make up her mind.
Meanwhile, my gaze stays transfixed on the exposed curve of her long neck. Why won’t she look at us? Not even so much as cut us an angry glare? Something. Anything to make us notice her.
“You’re staring,” Alaric points out, ruffling the front of his hair.
My throat jumps, and I shake myself off whatever trance clings to me like a morning mist. “I just hate that Daemon is suffering because of her.”
“He’s not suffering because of her. It’s not her fault that Lucifer is a psychopath.”
Unimpressed, I snort. “We wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t thrown that football at his head.”
Their chuckles draw my attention away from the angel. Elbow kicked up on the back of his chair, Ronan balances on the back legs. “That was an epic throw.”
Alaric hides his answering smile behind his fist as he scratches the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He drops his hand to the table and smooths his finger over a groove in the desk, all traces of humor gone. “There’s still a stalker out there. I don’t care if she hates us or not. We’re not leaving her alone.”