Page 114 of Dark Awakening

Despite the terror coursing through my veins, one desperate thought crystallizes in my mind. I have to escape this nightmare right now by any means necessary. Mustering every ounce of my willpower, I force my legs to obey stiffly, trying feebly to stand on trembling limbs. But before I can fully rise, the residual cocktail of unknown drugs circulating in my system conspires against me. My vision starts to dim at the edges dangerously, and I can't stop my body from collapsing back down onto the cold, packed dirt floor.

Heavy, approaching footsteps echo from just outside the cellar entrance, intensifying my desperation tenfold. I have only seconds left to act before I'm consigned to unimaginable torment at Azrael's hands. The thick wooden door suddenly crashes open with such violent force that jagged splinters of wood spray through the air, some needle-like shards piercing painfully into the tender flesh of my exposed arms and back.

No!

This can't be happening! Not when escape is so close! In a blind panic, I desperately scramble on my knees to press my body back against the far earthen wall, driven by the primal need to take cover in the concealing shadows. My heart slams against my ribs as I hear the heavy thud of boots descending the worn wooden stairs, my pulse roaring like the violent sea in my ears. I'm paralyzed, unable to flee or fight. All I can do is gulp panicked mouthfuls of the stale, fetid cellar air into my starving lungs, willing my galloping heart to steady as those footsteps draw relentlessly nearer. Every nerve ending in my body screams for me to run, but I'm cornered, trapped helplessly in the depths of my dark prison.

"Dani—Angel, where are you?"

Disbelief wars with tentative hope. Rhyland? Is it truly him? Some cruel hallucination conjured by my addled mind?

I creep from my hiding place, voice barely a choking rasp. "Rhy...?"

"I'm coming, baby. Stay there." Urgency fills his voice.

My heart pounds. Can this be real? Overwhelmed, I sink to my knees as tears spill down my cheeks. He instantly crosses the cellar, crushing me against his broad chest. His scent envelops me, unraveling my core's twisted knot of fear. I cling to him with every fiber of my weakened being, afraid he'll vanish if I let go.

"Shh, it's okay now, sweetheart. I have you." His tender words soothe my fractured soul.

A raw sob claws up my tortured throat. He gently cups my face, mesmerizing blue eyes grounding me as violent sobs wrack my body. No sound escapes my clenched vocal cords.

Rhyland scoops me into his strong arms, carrying me from that wretched hole. I flinch at the movement; my ribs likely fractured from Marcus's abuse. The clean night air fills my lungs like a balm. He lays me in the dewy grass, and my breath comes easier. Our reunion still feels tenuous, as though I'll wake back in that nightmare at any moment.

"Get these fucking ties off her," Rhyland growls.

Lucian's knife flashes, severing my bonds. Finally free, I instinctively throw my leaden arms around Rhyland's thickly corded neck with every ounce of strength remaining in my battered body, ignoring the searing pain in my ribs. I cling to him in open desperation, still irrationally terrified that if he were ever to set me down or leave my sight again, even for a fleeting instant, I'd wake once more in chains in that filthy cellar, this treasured rescue revealed to be nothing more than a fresh torture crafted by my broken mind.

"It's okay now, baby. I've got you," he murmurs, holding me close.

I let loose a ragged cry, my abused vocal cords protesting even that soft sound.

Rhyland's jaw sets with determination. "I need to heal you, Angel."

But Lucian urges sharply, "We've got to bolt before Lord Fuckwad shows up to claim his unwilling bride!"

At his words, memories of Marcus's vile plan come crashing back. Frantic, I push the horrific tale directly into Rhyland's mind, unable to speak it aloud.

I feel Rhyland's ephemeral touch surround me as he takes in my panicked warning. "I hear you, baby. We'll get you out of here," he vows.

Relief courses through me that our mental bond remains true.

But Adrian presses anxiously, "You can heal her once we're away. We must flee!"

Rhyland hesitates, loathing to see me suffering yet unwilling to risk Azrael's wrath. His protective instincts war with logic, two dire threats poised on either side...

Before we can flee, Azrael slides from the shadows, leering like a viper poised to strike.

"Leaving so soon with my prize?" he mocks, serpentine eyes fixing on me. Revulsion twists my gut. "The girl isn't going anywhere. She belongs to me now."

He mentions Marcus's grisly end almost lazily, saying he should've known better than to trust that fool. Azrael's casual evil turns my blood to ice.

Rhyland's arms lock around me as he snarls, "Back the fuck off, Azrael! She stays right here with me."

Lucian and Erik close ranks, squaring off against this monster.

A savage rumble resonates through Rhyland's chest. Wounded as he is, he refuses to release me. My defenders stand united as Azrael advances, darkness coiling.

Rhyland tries a telekinetic blast, but Azrael deflects it easily, sending a writhing spear of shadow to knock Rhyland off his feet like a shotgun blast, wrenching me from his arms. I hit the cold earth hard, barely stifling a scream.

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