Chapter 54 A Vow Made
A VOW MADE
LUELLA
It was so dark Luella couldn’t even see Az or Tharen, but she knew they were there—she suddenly felt their presence right before her, crowding her. Shielding her.
Tiny shivers rippled down the knobs of her spine and cascaded out through her wings.
The words.
Conquered Princess.
The voice.
One she knew.
Caliban.
She trembled, hands shaking. The words bounced around in her skull. A hiss that vibrated through the air.
This darkness. Just like the one that befell the throne room in Serpentis.
They all knew what was coming now.
The Tenebrae.
"He’s h-here," Luella whispered, and her words were so loud in the dark.
She felt strong, warm hands on her bare shoulders and gasped, but realized it was Tharen behind her, yanking her against his chest to keep her safe.
Her scalp tingled, awareness slicing through her fear.
The Fallen were behind them in the throne room.
Each shifting footstep and rustling wing was magnified tenfold by the hushed murkiness.
No one spoke—as if afraid of what their words would bring.
Afraid one wrong move, one wrong word, would make the waiting darkness wrap around them and rip them to shreds.
Her overactive mind conjured hands reaching for her. She could almost feel them, brushing her ankles. A sob crawled its way up her throat, escaping softly.
Az hushed her. She felt his hands on her neck, thumbs brushing her jaw. She could recognize it was him by touch, alone.
Luella was crushed between her demon and the Prima—they were both so close she could barely breathe.
She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be here. Terror hollowed her out.
Her forehead fell to Az’s chest. He held her tighter.
The air seemed charged with the promise of violence. The threat of anguish. It loomed over them all. The sound of the leaves rustling in the breeze made her whimper. It took her a moment to realize it wasn’t the sound of footsteps.
Why was everyone so silent? Why did no one move?
Were they paralyzed in fear like she was?
She kept shaking.
Her magic thudded like a second heartbeat. The air kicked up into a fearsome howl, swirling around them so violently she could no longer hear her own breathing.
"Luella." Tharen’s mouth brushed her ear. "Graves is coming to get you." He spoke so low, she strained to hear. His lips were warm, his hand on her shoulders digging in to still her quivering.
She nodded. Maybe. Did she? She didn’t know. She knew nothing past darkness and fear.
Tharen’s hands tightened on her. He gave a low rumble. Perhaps that had been from Az before her, however. Regardless, she felt the vibrations through her, soothing something within her that begged to be soothed.
"Be ready," Tharen whispered.
Her hand reached behind her and found his hip. She gripped the end of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as if searching for a lifeline or saving grace.
She was unmoored. Terror was too small a word for what lived in her now.
She felt their emotions—possession, protectiveness, and a low, kindling sort of fear that made the very hairs on her nape stand on end.
If they were unnerved, how did that bode for the rest of them?
The first scream shattered through the room like a bolt of lightning.
Luella jerked. Tharen and Az both stilled her with unyielding hands. The force of their grip was bruising. Her mouth twisted into a grimace.
Then another scream. The sound ripped through the roaring wind like shattered glass.
Another.
And another—
Mixed with the zing of blades and cries of fury.
Her tortured brain grasped the things she did know with unfaltering certainty. But what she didn’t know? It haunted her.
She was herded further away from the sounds. The soles of her shoes slipped over the stone, then she felt pebbles biting into her heels. They’d forced her beyond the arches. Away from those terrifying sounds of battle and blood.
Through the tight press of their bodies, air whispered over her cheeks—as if to comfort her. She sighed, and the wind trembled. An echoing crack of lightning lit up the sky in a jagged line.
The brief flash of illumination cast everything in a wash of white and deep blue.
Revealing the grim sights.
Luella wished she hadn’t seen.
The stone floor was coated in gore. Bodies lay splayed on the ground—in pieces.
Feathers swirled in the air, drifting in a haze of maroon and pitch, falling in pools of blood.
The Umbra swept from the shadows, swords dripping with blood, plunged into bellies, and swiped straight through bodies, cutting them clean in half.
Others weren’t so lucky as to receive the mercy of death.
Umbra with straight, blunt teeth descended upon the Fallen, tearing into their flesh, skin stuck between their teeth. That was all it took.
The lightning fizzled away.
Darkness.
Her breath hitched.
No—no.
Another zap of electricity in the air—closer this time—as the lightning filled the sky. One, two, three streaks. More. More.
Each bolt cast them all in deep, wretched shades of blue and purple.
The sky was so thick with a storm that the darkness of night had twisted until it became something other—something sharp and charged.
Her hair rose. Static crackled under her skin, racing through her veins.
Az grumbled, his fingers digging into her flesh harder, deeper, as the tiny bolts raced from her skin to his. He didn’t let her go—neither did Tharen.
The bitten Fallen fell to the ground, bodies shaking, then the awful convulsions stopped in an instant. Spines straightened. Wings snapped out. They stood. Stalking through the room to possess their next prey.
It was a slaughter.
Through the melee, she couldn’t see anyone she recognized. Just blood and bodies and the flash of a spear or sword.
The lightning cut out. Thunder drew nearer. Her bones rattled.
In the darkness, her breath stalled, then stuttered as a hand touched her neck. She gasped—loudly.
"Luella, Luella," Graves whispered harshly. She’d been so overcome and distracted with fear and chaos, she’d not been able to hear him come.
She sobbed quietly. Tharen stepped back.
As his hands fell away from her, she trembled, alone, seeking out Az’s warmth and safety before her.
Her demon placed his hands on her shoulders.
The grumbling vibrations that reverberated through his chest soothed her somewhat.
She pressed her cheek to his chest and rubbed against him like a feline.
Please—take me away from here, she thought in desperation.
Graves’s grip locked around her arms, pulling her away from Az.
"We have to go. Now," Graves hissed.
"I—I—okay," she stuttered, frozen.
The thunder blocked out all sound, rising so high that she felt like her eardrums would pop and her brains would bleed out from her ears.
She didn’t even have time to tell Az goodbye—or Tharen.
As Graves ripped her away from them, for just one faltering moment, she was alone, tethered to another only by Graves’s hand on her wrist, pulling her against him.
That was all it took.
Something dark and frigid slithered over her ankle. So cold that it burned.
It wrapped around her, snaking up to her calf and curling up her thigh like a vine.
She gasped out, "Wait—there’s something—"
And the cold thing dug into her flesh. The ground disappeared beneath her; her equilibrium shifted. She suddenly found herself slamming into the ground, dragged so swiftly that the pebbles dug into her stomach and palms, leaving raw, searing scrapes. Gravel embedded into her skin.
Graves wasn’t quick enough. His grip on her arm was forced to release; otherwise, he’d have torn her arm clean off from the strength in those cold vines wrapped around her leg.
She screamed.
Lightning flared. Enough for her to see flashes of their panicked faces as they reached for her.
She tried to lift her head to stop the stones from cutting into her face.
She turned to look behind her and saw a mass of thick shadows teeming on the ground, tendrils shooting out as it pulled her straight toward it.
The shadows curled up from her thigh, drifting between her legs. She screamed and screamed as they curled around her, twisting up until they were wrapped around her waist, and further, they snaked, until they constricted around her breasts. She felt its icy edges brush her neck.
"Conquered Princess," the shadows whispered into her ear.
"No, no, no—" Luella cried.
It was the same thing that had happened to him—to Caliban. He’d been taken by snake-like shadows and ripped away into the belly of the earth.
She couldn’t let that happen to her.
Luella! Bastian’s fearful roar echoed in her mind.
"Bastian!" she cried out.
The shadows tightened. She gasped, pleas faltering.
Darkness specked her vision. It hurt.
A warm hand touched her elbow, fingers digging in.
Through teary eyes, she looked up, pain hot on her cheeks where the rocks had scraped her. Graves was on his stomach, reaching for her.
The sharp fall of the cliff was at her back. The shadows pulled her toward it. The mass slipped off the edge; she sensed it waiting there—waiting for her to fall into its mouth like a meal.
Her nails cracked as she dug her fingers into the stone.
Graves groaned in pain as his fingers tightened. Luella slipped, then gasped.
She met his eyes; his were wide with fear. The shadows wrapped around her throat, cutting off her words.
His mouth was moving, but she couldn’t hear over the roar of her storm. No rain yet. But the thunder, lightning, and high winds were damaging enough without the slickness of water.
Another hand joined Graves.
Tharen took her other elbow, yanking so hard she wheezed. They didn’t let her go. Not once. Not even as her arm sockets strained. She’d rather they rip her arms clean off than suffer whatever that thing wanted with her.
She slipped off the side of the cliff, legs dangling. Her wings fluttered, trying to catch the air. It was futile.