Page 50 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

Vorpal blades.My breath whooshes from my lungs and I numbly sit back, my mind reeling. If she weren't a phoenix, she would have been gone. Forever. An emotion like broken glass slices through my heart, leaving me with painfully shallow breath. Terror engulfs me in a vice-like grip, a desperate need to never let Morte out of my sight. To protect her no matter what.

When I finally speak my voice is raw with emotion. "Who did that to you?"

The tenderness in Morte's gaze tells me all I need to know; she offers me a melancholy smile and whispers a single word. "Aggonid."

As though her pain were my own, a surge of rage and sorrow explodes within me, my hands clenching and releasing in an attempt to contain it. My mind screams for vengeance, thoughts of retribution clouding my judgment. I thought they'd been getting along great. More than once I'd caught them naked together, though maybe it wasn't what it looked like. Is that why she'd been hiding in the closet? To get away from him?

Pushing my plate aside, I cup her chin, my thumb brushing the line of her jaw. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again," I vow.

I'll make sure of it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MORTE

Azazel reminds me so much of Wilder, but with a much darker edge. His protective streak manifests in violent threats toward anyone who dares to cast a glance in my direction. His intimidating aura is like a menacing forcefield, shielding me from harm and the jeers of people in the underworld.

Aggonid's rejection stung hard, but it's a comfort to be taken care of by someone who understands what I've been through and wants to keep me safe. Leading a legion of the fiercest warriors in Bedlam might give me an edge to others brand new to the underworld, but it'd be a mistake not to find allies in this place.

With a full belly, Azazel and I make our way back to my hut, the lust having worn off as soon as we left the tavern.

"Where do you live?" I glance at him, noticing the way his eyes keep darting to the sky.

He gestures towards the path to the left of my hovel. "About a two-minute flight that way. I'm your nearest neighbor, unless you count the animals that prowl these woods. I'll show it to you sometime."

"Azazel, why are you being so nice to me?" I pause, bracing my hand against my doorway, the wood and metal worn. It's got deep gouges, as though someone raked their claws across it. A chilling reminder I'm not in Bedlam anymore.

Which brings me back to my suspicions. He told me I can't trust him.

"I don't know." He cups the back of his neck, his eyes averted from mine. "Maybe we could help each other."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I cross my arms over my chest. "In what way?"

He grins, his shoulder propped against the outside wall of my shack. "I told you how I fuel my magic, right?"

I blink. "You want me to be your food source."

"And in return, I'd be yours." He shoves off the wall, stooping to pinch a berry off a plant at our feet. "See this? It'll kill you." He gestures to the rest of the plants. "You have no food source. No water. The underworld isn't meant to be an easy place to survive in, Morte. It's designed for torture and suffering. If you had someone who could supply you with what you need, you'd have a fighting chance to stay alive."

He hurls the fruit at the trees and I'm about to respond when something swoops in and grabs it, snarling a throaty growl. The creature is as big as a house cat, with wings of fire and teeth like jagged daggers. I stumble back in horror.

"What was that?!" I gasp.

He pulls me inside and slams the door shut. "Cinderwings," he says gravely. "It's midnight. The beasts of the woods begin their hunt for prey. If you see one, run for cover."

"What do they do?" I peer through the window as another shadow passes by.

He takes a step closer and speaks in a whisper, his voice tight with dread. "They'll tear the flesh from your bones, but first they'll pin you down with their talons. Cinderwings might seem small, but their weight is almost as much as yours and if you're trapped beneath one, there's no getting out." He yanks the curtains shut, showering us with a thick blanket of dust that makes me double over in fits of sneezes.

An ear-splitting screech pierces the night, and terror freezes me. "What the fuck was that?" I whisper hoarsely before Azazel grabs me in his iron hold, his hand slamming over my mouth.

He drags us away from the window as it shakes violently from the force of something lurking outside. A wave of panic surges through me and my heart thrashes like a wild animal. Not even Azazel's protective embrace can quell the terror flooding my veins.

The haunting sound of claws scratching against the hut walls causes my skin to crawl with alarm. My grip on his arm tightens as I stare at the menacing shadow passing through the small gaps in the wood. Every nerve in my body screams that this flimsy structure won't be enough to keep the creature out.

A muffled shriek escapes between my fingers clamped over my mouth when the beast slams against the door, causing it to vibrate and groan under its weight. I frantically try to undo the buckle of my belt loop, until I'm able to produce Irid's dagger, firmly held in front of me with a trembling hand. The beast circles around and around the building, snarling with menace and all I can do is stand there, unable to move, and pray that we'll survive.

My heart thunders as the vibration shakes the floor beneath my feet and I can feel it digging to get in. With a firm grip, Azazel tightens his hold on me and pulls me further away from the window, without ever taking his eyes off it. He releases me, standing to face me with a finger pressed to his lips, his eyes blazing in warning. I nod in understanding, and he drops to one knee, reaching under the bed to grab the metal chest plate Irid had given me earlier.

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