Page 95 of Frosted Torment

Vallen glanced around my dimly lit apartment before sinking into the sagging couch cushions. “You do what you need to do,” he remarked calmly as if this were all normal.

The soft hum of the refrigerator underscored our silence, blending with the faint traffic noise outside. My fingers brushed against the cold glass of vodka, its chill almost biting—a sharp contrast to my frayed nerves.

I took a shot and let the peppermint punish my senses. The sharp mint flavor hit my tongue first, followed by the burning alcohol that made me wince. Then it melted into warmth. After taking two more, I eyed him curiously as he continued to stare at me.

His composed demeanor irritated me more than it should have—the epitome of indifference amidst chaos—while everything inside me felt like it was unraveling. I tried desperately to hold together some semblance of sanity. He seemed satisfiedwith my decision, but he was also still shirtless. And as much as it stirred something in me, it was wrong, and I needed to find him something to wear.

“Okay,” I whispered sharply and set the glass on the counter louder than necessary. “I know I have something around here for you to put on so you don’t look like you just left a frat party.”

Creases formed between his eyebrows as I stalked toward the clothes hamper, vodka bottle in hand.

“Too many men are in and out of your life,” he declared, not an ounce of emotion in his voice.

“It’s not a concern of yours,” I quipped, taking a swig from the bottle. “Never has been and never will be. Understand?”

“You deserved better, Noa,” he admitted, then went back to studying the room I once called home.

A hollow pit formed in my stomach. Ivy spoke the same words to me a few days ago in this same spot. I didn’t believe it then, but she was right.

I inched toward the man who made me just so I could die and shoved a hoodie and sweatpants into his chest. He didn’t move as I challenged him. After drinking down a few more gulps of vodka, I launched the bottle into the kitchen, glass shattering across the floor.

“Maybe if your goddamn family weren’t a bunch of fuckwads and you hadn’t stolen my soul, I would stand a chance,” I seethed. Then, my knees gave out, and I dropped to the floor. “I sure as hell deserve better. My poor mother deserved so much better!”

He swallowed hard as his green eyes danced with bursts of gold, and my apartment rumbled when he spoke. “I will not apologize for trying to save the human race and all the otherworlds out there,” Vallen stated, his tone composed. “You and your family are a microscopic issue in the bigger scheme of things. I was doing my job.”

“What about Lex? Or Baz, huh?” Sobs came in waves now as he watched me crumble into oblivion. “Sasha? Ivy? Vincent made me kill my own grandmother, Vallen!”

He sat on the floor next to me, but maintained a respectful distance. “That is war,” Vallen explained, his words measured and logical. “The sooner you grasp war is never-ending, and there will always be collateral damage, the better you will handle this.” His voice carried a hint of regret as I lay on my side with my hands under my face and watched him now. He released a long sigh. “When you’re called, you do what’s necessary, Noa, and I’d rather lose a few angels and humans than watch complete evil destroy your world and mine.”

Tears streamed down my face as I sniffled and wiped my nose on the arm of my shirt. I rolled onto my back and looked up at Vallen. “You wouldn’t let me end him,” I accused, my voice thick with bitterness.

Vallen’s expression softened slightly as he turned to face me. He leaned over, his breath hot against my cheek as he spoke. “Because I will not allow him the satisfaction of taking your life,” he growled.

I turned away from him, facing the other direction now. “Because you want to do it,” I spat, my words laced with venom. “To be the hero and watch as my life slips away.”

He delicately brushed the hair out of my face, his touch sending tingles up my neck, causing my hair to stand on end. “I take no pleasure in having to kill you, princess,” he whispered. “But I promise you won’t suffer. I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”

A sob escaped my throat as tears continued to fall. He truly believed he was doing me a favor.

“Every girl’s dream, right?” I managed to choke out through sobs, unable to hold back bitter laughter at the absurdity of it all.

What did he know about humans or their dreams? His job was all that mattered. Whether he didn’t know what to say or he didn’t have the nerve, he sat there letting the silence speak for him. The quiet unnerved me, so I stood to face my bathroom and took a deep breath.

“I need a shower,” I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand. As I stood, I snatched up a pair of jeans and a sweater from the top of my laundry basket, then left him sitting on the living room floor.

I closed the door for privacy and cursed the angels and the universe. War. What did I know about war? Nothing, and I was going to die without a chance to fight for anything.

My entire life had been a sham. Standing in my bathroom made me wish Uno and Dos were here, but they hadn’t reached out since Callum’s death. I missed them and how simple my life was before angels ruined it.

I yanked back the shower curtain, expecting nothing but an empty tub. Instead, my heart seized. There, in the tub, lay Ivy. She lay curled up like a discarded doll, bruises painting her skin in grim hues. Her left eye was swollen shut, a grotesque bulge of purple and black. A deep gash ran from her split lip up into her jawline.

Where luxurious white curls once cascaded down her back,now only patches of hair clung to a bloodied scalp. Her once radiant beauty, now marred in purple and blue, lay there, wheezing shallow breaths—a broken shadow of the friend I’d once known.

My hands trembled uncontrollably as I grabbed a towel to drape over Ivy’s violated form. The faint metallic tang of blood mixed with antiseptics churned my stomach. Bile surged up my throat while tears stung my eyes, blurring Ivy’s broken form even further.

Staring at Ivy’s shattered body, it felt like all the air had vanished from the room. A scream—raw and filled with terror—ripped from my throat as my world tilted.

The bathroom door flew open as Vallen rushed in, his eyes wide with alarm. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, taking in the horrific scene before him. “Wait out there,” he ordered, and I ran into the living room, panic tearing at my chest.

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