Page 48 of Wicked Angel
He moved toward us with predatory grace, his glowing black eyes fixed on us with an intensity that raised the hair on the back of my neck. There was no recognition in that gaze, no hint of the demon I'd come to know. Only hunger, and rage, and ancient, primal power.
“Aspen,” I said, my voice low and steady despite the fear coursing through me. “Get the portal ready, but stay back.”
“Ariella, I don't think?—”
“Stay. Back.” I moved forward slowly, my hands open at my sides, my sword sheathed. No sudden movements, nothing that could be interpreted as a threat. “Levi,” I called softly. “It's me. It's Ariella.”
The demon growled, a sound that resonated in my bones. He stepped closer, his massive form blocking out the light filtering through the trees. Up close, the transformation was even more shocking, a little different than the last time I had seen him like this—his face was barely recognizable, his features sharpened and twisted into something inhuman, his mouth filled with razor-like teeth.
“Sweetheart,” I said, using the term of endearment he so often used for me. “Come back to me. The fight is over. We're safe now.”
Something flickered in those glowing eyes—a hint of recognition, quickly subsumed by the raging demon. He growled again, lower this time, and stepped closer. His clawed hand rose, poised to strike, and I braced myself for the blow.
But I didn't retreat. Didn't flinch. Just held his gaze steadily, letting him see that I wasn't afraid—not of him, never of him.
“I know you're in there,” I said softly. “I know you can hear me. Come back, Levi. Come back to me.”
His hand trembled, caught between striking and reaching out. The growl that rumbled from his chest sounded almost pained now, conflicted.
Slowly, carefully, I raised my own hand, palm up, offering it to him. “That's it,” I encouraged. “Focus on my voice. On us.”
His clawed fingers hovered over my palm, razor-sharp and capable of tearing through flesh with minimal effort. I waited, my heart hammering in my chest, but my hand remained steady.
“Please,” I whispered, looking directly into those burning eyes. “Come back.”
For a long, terrible moment, nothing happened. Then, with a shudder that seemed to pass through his entire massive frame, Levi's hand moved to touch mine. The contact was gentle, almost hesitant, his claws carefully curled away from my skin.
The change started slowly—the glow in his eyes dimming, the horns receding into his forehead, his wings folding and shrinking back to their normal size. His skin lightened, the molten veins fading, his features softening back into the familiar contours of his face.
Within moments, Levi stood before me, fully himself again, though his eyes remained haunted, filled with the horror of what he'd just done.
“Ariella,” he rasped, his voice hoarse as if he'd been screaming. “I?—”
“It's okay,” I said quickly, squeezing his hand. “You're back. That's all that matters.”
He pulled away, disgust twisting his features as he looked down at his blood-covered hands. “I lost control. I became that thing again.”
“You saved us,” I insisted, though I knew the cost of that salvation would weigh heavily on him. “We were outnumbered. They would have captured or killed us.”
“Portal's ready,” Aspen called, his voice tight with strain. Behind him, the swirling doorway of magic pulsed with unstable energy. “We need to go. Now.”
I looked back toward the battlefield, thinking of Ezekiel, of my mother and sister still trapped in Elysium. The urge to go after them, to storm the gates and demand their release, was almost overwhelming.
But I knew it would be suicide. We'd barely escaped this trap. Charging into Elysium now, without a plan, would only get us killed or captured—and then we'd be no help to anyone.
“Ariella,” Levi said softly, reading my thoughts in my expression. “We can't help them if we're dead.”
I nodded, the bitter taste of failure filling my mouth. “I know. Let's go.”
Together, we stepped through the portal, leaving behind the blood-soaked clearing and the echoes of Levi's rampage. The magic swirled around us, disorienting and cold, before depositing us back in the warehouse with a jarring sense of displacement.
Aspen stumbled as he emerged behind us, his face pale with exhaustion. Creating a portal under pressure, so close to Elysium's barriers, had clearly taken a toll on him.
“Are you both okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning us for injuries.
I nodded, though “okay” felt like a stretch. My side ached where the angel's blade had caught me, and my shoulder burned from the shallow cut I'd received earlier. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the knot of fear and guilt twisting in my chest.
“I should go,” Aspen said after a moment, his gaze lingering on Levi, who stood silently by the window, his back to us. “I need to alert the others about what happened. We'll need to regroup, come up with a new plan.”
