Page 40 of Rage of the Fallen

“Right. You were almost food for a horde of gluttony demons.” Justice grimaced as he finally managed to sit up. He looked pale even for a vampire, the sun highlighting the shadows under his eyes and the way his clothes hung on his frame as if the demon’s possession had burned through his essence.

Damon glared. “I was waiting for the right moment.” He circled Justice one more time, trying to maintain his tough-guy stance while relief flickered across his face. “And for the record, I could’ve taken those vamps with one hand tied behind my back.”

I could practically hear him biting back a “bitch” or “jerk” comment, that signature Grant deflection of emotional moments with humor. But I knew my brother. The fact that he was falling back into their usual banter meant he was starting to believe this was really Justice.

Brody squeezed my arm gently. He hadn’t been there that day, but he’d heard the story enough times during mission briefings and late-night strategy sessions. It had become anew experience for my family. The vampire who’d saved a Grant, turning everything we thought we knew about allies and enemies on its head.

That day in the Shadow Mine had been the beginning of everything, the moment Justice had proven he wasn’t our enemy, wasn’t just another vampire to be staked. The day my brother had been forced to reconsider everything he thought he knew about monsters and men. It was the kind of story Brody appreciated, understanding better than most how sometimes the strongest alliances were forged in the most unexpected moments.

It’s Justice,” I insisted as I wiggled free of Brody’s grip. All the fear, all the waiting, all the desperate hope burst through my chest like a dam breaking. The golden marks beneath Justice’s skin pulsed softly like stars calling me home.

“Sawyer—” Brody reached for me, concern still edging his voice, but I was already moving. I didn’t care about being cautious or tactical. I’d spent too long dreaming of this, of having my Justice back, of seeing those warm brown eyes look at me with recognition instead of rage.

I knelt beside him in the dew-soaked grass, my hands trembling as they hovered over his shoulders, suddenly afraid he might shatter if I touched him. The demon’s possession had left him fragile, almost hollow, like a stained-glass window that had weathered a storm. Beautiful but breakable.

“I’ve missed you,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision. The words felt inadequate, too simple to contain the ocean of emotion behind them.

“I have, too.” He reached for me, his voice rough with emotion. His hand trembled slightly. In that small movement, I saw the echo of every moment we’d been apart, every battle he’d fought against the demon’s control.

My heart raced in anticipation, beating a rhythm that sanghe’s back, he’s back, he’s real. The morning air seemed to hold its breath, the misty courtyard fading until there was nothing but this moment. Nothing but us.

He slipped his hand around my neck, his touch achingly gentle, as if he was remembering how to be tender after so much darkness. His fingers against my skin grounded me in the reality that this wasn’t another dream, another desperate hope. His lips brushed over mine, soft as a whisper. “You never gave up on me?”

The question held so much. Wonder, gratitude, and lingering traces of fear. I heard what he wasn’t saying. After everything the demon made him do, after all the darkness, had I still believed in him? Had I seen him beneath the rage?

“Never,” I breathed against his lips, pouring every desperate prayer and moment of unshakeable faith into that single word. “My heart belongs to you.” The truth rang through me like the harp’s music, pure, unbreakable, and healing. The golden marks beneath his skin pulsed as if responding to the declaration, to the love that helped bring him back from the darkness.

As our lips met, a cascade of electric sparks lit up my body. I couldn’t resist tangling my fingers in his thick, dark hair as he deepened the kiss. A rush of heat and pleasure surged through me, settling in my quivering belly. The taste of him lingered on my lips, sweet and intoxicating like a forbidden fruit. I lost all sense of time and place, consumed by the passion and desire between us.

“Okay, Twilight. We need to get inside now and prepare for demons.”

Damon’s smart remark doused our tiny reunion like ice water down my spine, yanking me back to the reality of our situation. The warm bubble of joy in my chest didn’t quite pop, but it definitely shrank.

Justice broke off the kiss, but his hand lingered at my neck, thumb brushing my skin as if he couldn’t quite bear to break contact completely. “I promise we’ll finish what we started, and this time, we won’t be interrupted.” His voice held warmth and determination, making my heart flutter despite the danger lurking at the edges of our moment.

“Oh, pardon me,” Damon drawled, and I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “I just thought we needed to come up with a plan before the horde of demons and Maci descend on us like flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz.”

My brother’s pop culture reference would have made me laugh in any other situation, but the mention of Maci sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the cold air. We were far from safe. I felt Justice’s fingers tighten slightly against my skin, a silent acknowledgment that our reunion would have to wait.

“I won’t let him take you again,” I promised, the words emerging fiercer than I intended. The memory of watching the demon possess him, of seeing my Justice twisted into something else, made my voice shake.

Justice clasped my hand and pulled me off the ground with the innate gentleness that always surprised people who didn’t know vampires could be tender. Even weakened, he moved with careful strength. Still, worry darkened his eyes.

“Listen to me,” he murmured. “He’s too powerful. If he captures me again, you need to run.” The mere suggestion of leaving him made my chest tight, but I saw the haunted look in his eyes. He remembered everything the demon had made him do.

Damon scrutinized Justice, that calculating hunter’s assessment I’d seen a thousand times. “So, tell me, Jaws. Why does Rage want you so badly but not any of us?”

Leave it to my brother to cut to the tactical heart of things, even if he had to wrap it in a shark movie reference.

“Because of my vampire speed and strength.” Justice’s admission came with a grimace, his free hand clenching into a fist. “He thinks I’m the only one who could grab the artifacts and get out.” The mist swirled around us as his words sank in, making the ancient headstones seem to loom closer. “He and Maci plan to destroy them.”

When he turned to Lisa, I felt the shift in his posture, the way he drew himself up despite his exhaustion. The shadows under his eyes seemed darker as he delivered the worst news. “His next objective is to get the phoenix. He wants to drain her power.”

A ripple of tension moved through our group. Lisa’s sharp intake of breath, Brody’s tactical mind already working on scenarios, Zara’s hand moving instinctively toward her weapons. Yet all I could focus on was how Justice’s hand trembled in mine, the tiny tell that revealed how much it cost him to remember what the demon had planned through him.

And it was more than that. Justice was afraid. Justice, who had faced hordes of demons without flinching, who had walked into the Shadow Mine outnumbered and emerged victorious, who had survived centuries of darkness while keeping his humanity intact. If something could make him tremble, put that shadow of fear in his eyes…

Ice crawled down my spine as the realization hit. If he was afraid, I should be terrified.

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