Page 60 of Crown of Blood and Vengeance

Enzo ripped out the spear in one brutal motion. Pain exploded through me like a supernova, my roar of agony echoing through the church.

My head snapped back with brutal force, my body convulsing as if possessed. Every muscle seized, every nerve screaming. It felt like my spine was being ripped out vertebra by vertebra, my flesh turning to liquid fire.

“Angelo, Angelo, focus on me.” Serenity’s voice cracked with desperation as she pressed her hand against my chest, right over my heart.

But as much as I wanted to anchor myself to her touch, the pain was consuming me alive. Something writhed inside me, a darkness with teeth and claws, gnawing through muscle and bone, shredding me from the inside out.

“Angelo, stay with me.” Serenity’s gentle hands cupped my face, her touch a beacon of warmth against the spreading cold. Tears sparkled in her eyes like fallen stars.

I fought to focus, to say something—anything—but darkness crept in from the edges of my vision like spilled ink. Not even centuries of vampire strength could fight whatever poison the shadowweavers had laced that spear with. Darkness encroached, but not before I witnessed her beautiful face, haloed in divine light, reaching for me as I fell into the void.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

Serenity

Panic clawed at my chest,each heartbeat a thundering reminder of precious seconds slipping away as Angelo’s eyes fluttered shut, like dying stars fading from my universe. My trembling hands seized his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as I shook him with desperate force. “Angelo, no, no, no. Come back to me.”

But he remained completely still, a marble statue stretched across the ground. His face had taken on the ashen pallor of death, skin almost translucent in the dim light, with blue veins stark beneath. His breath came in shallow whispers, each one fainter than the last, like autumn leaves scattered in a dying wind.

Trystan released a mournful howl that pierced the night, the sound ancient and primal—a wolf’s recognition of approaching death. Around us, his pack took up the lament, their voices weaving together in a haunting chorus that made my heart ache even more.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” I cried out. “Not now. Not when we’re finally together again.” The words felt like glass in my throat, sharp and cutting.

Drawing deep within myself, I summoned my healing power, my Nephilim power burning through my veins like a shooting star. I pressed my palms against his chest, feeling the weak flutter of his immortal heart beneath. A white glow spiraled around us, casting ethereal shadows across his vampiric features. Then I felt it—something dark and malevolent writhing inside him, the demon spear’s essence tearing through his flesh like serrated shadows, fighting against my light with ancient malice.

“It’s not working.” The words came out as a broken whisper as I looked up at Poison, my vision blurring with tears of frustration and terror. Fear gripped me like an icy fist around my heart, squeezing until I could barely breathe. The thought of losing Angelo—my Angelo—sent waves of panic crashing through me, threatening to drown me in despair. I couldn’t lose him. Not after everything we’d been through, not when I’d finally found someone who saw past my Nephilim nature to the soul beneath. “Why isn’t my power working?”

She gave me a sympathetic look, her ancient eyes holding wisdom I desperately needed. “Draw on your love. Call to him.” Her soft command bore a gentle authority, a reminder of something I should have known.

I closed my eyes, letting the world fall away until there was nothing but Angelo and me. I reached for my love for him—every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every moment when his touch had made me feel whole. It bloomed in my chest like the first rays of dawn after an endless cold night, warm and golden, a force more powerful than any healing magic I’d ever wielded. I channeled it through my hands, feeling it pulse with the rhythm of my heart.

As my love poured into him, I sensed the darkness inside him retreating like shadows before dawn. It tried to hide in the corners of his being, a writhing, malevolent force desperate to maintain its hold. But my love pursued it relentlessly, backing it into the furthest reaches until there was nowhere left to run. The darkness shriveled and died, extinguished by the pure force of what Angelo and I shared, leaving behind nothing but clean, healing light.

As my light slowly faded, Angelo’s wound disappeared and he exhaled.

I gasped, my body trembling with the intensity of what had just flowed through me. The power of it left me dizzy, exhilarated and drained all at once. I’d never felt anything like this—love in its purest form, a tangible force strong enough to vanquish darkness. It wasn’t just healing magic; it was us, our love made manifest, more powerful than any spell or incantation could ever be. My hands still tingled where they had touched him, as if reluctant to break the connection we’d shared, and my heart swelled with a love so deep it felt like it might burst from my chest.

Someone put their hand on my shoulder, the touch firm yet gentle, and I looked up at Keir, his towering presence both reassuring and intimidating. “He needs to sleep. My harpies will take him to my home to heal.” He motioned toward the tall, menacing creatures, their wings casting shifting shadows across the ground, their ancient eyes gleaming with predatory intelligence.

I wasn’t convinced they could protect him, my chest tight with lingering fear. The thought of letting Angelo out of my sight made my heart clench painfully. “What about Balthazar? What if he tries to ambush them?” Determination and exhaustion nearly consumed me, but I still clutched Angelo’s still form, refusing to release him.

Poison’s smile held a knowing edge, her ethereal features illuminated with dark amusement. “I think he’s busy right now with Michael’s invasion. Lucifer won’t be happy.”

“But what about Raphael? Isn’t he in danger?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, my mind racing with all the possible threats to those I cared about. The supernatural war suddenly felt crushingly real. All the stories I had been taught in Bible class when I was a kid were real. Terrifyingly, bone-chillingly real.

“Yes.” She held up her palm, her expression grave yet accepting. “Angels, even archangels, are always in danger from demons. We have been at war since the beginning of time.” Her eyes reflected centuries of conflict as she looked away. “He’ll be alerted now about Balthazar’s plan.”

My stomach, already knotted with fear, twisted in a new direction. “But how does he know this?”

“Because I was telling him telepathically.” Her eyes held a distant look, as if seeing beyond our physical realm. “I’m connected with him. He’s my commander and we have a special bond.” Her expression softened with what might have been fondness. “I need to get back to Hollows Academy to let my mate know I’m okay. I’m a professor there.”

“Hollows Academy?”

“It’s actually within a supernatural prison. Some prisoners are given the opportunity to reform and change their ways. If not, they must remain there and serve their sentence.”

I never realized that there was a prison for supernaturals. Hopefully, Angelo would never end up there. I had a feeling it would make human prisons look like school detention.

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