Chapter 13 #2
I shook my head, forcing the invading thoughts of family and little rabbits away. "Lead the way," I growled, my voice rougher than usual. "Let's kill these fuckers."
The time for thinking was over. Now, we needed to fight.
The battle grew more chaotic with each passing second.
Talon and I cut through the wave of soldiers like they were nothing but training dummies, their bodies falling in our wake.
My blade sliced through flesh and bone, the satisfying resistance as it connected with its target grounding me in the moment.
"On your left," I shouted, spinning to avoid a spear thrust as Talon ducked and swung his bat with enough force to shatter the attacker's kneecap. The soldier went down screaming, only to be silenced permanently as I drove my boot into his throat.
"Thanks, brother," Talon grinned, blood splattered across his face like war paint. His eyes were alight with the thrill of battle, that unhinged gleam I'd seen a thousand times before. "This is better than Felix's birthday orgy last year!"
I snorted, parrying a sword strike and countering with a fatal thrust to my opponent's chest. "Don't let him hear you say that. He worked hard on that orgy."
Another wave of soldiers rushed at us, their movements jerky and uncoordinated—evidence of Asrael's mind control.
Poor bastards didn't stand a chance. I grabbed one by the collar, using his momentum to hurl him into his comrades before following through with a sweeping attack that opened three throats in one motion.
The platform was getting closer. I could see Asrael barking orders, his face contorted with rage as his plans unraveled before him. Khol was nowhere to be seen—probably got knocked off the platform during the fighting. Not my problem.
That's when it hit me again—that sweet, unmistakable scent cutting through the stench of blood and death.
Cherries.
My nostrils flared, head whipping around as I searched for the source. It was stronger this time, more distinct. My heart began to pound harder, and not from exertion. Was she here? In this gods-forsaken hellscape of a battlefield?
"Fuck," I growled, barely dodging an axe that would have split my skull. I grabbed the attacker's wrist and twisted until I heard the crack of bone, then drove my knee into his face.
"You good?" Talon called out, twirling his bat between his fingers before bringing it down on a soldier's collarbone with a sickening crunch.
"Fine," I snarled, refocusing on the task at hand. Compartmentalize. Push it down. Kill these motherfuckers.
We fought our way forward, step by bloody step. My muscles burned with the exertion, but the pain was welcome—a distraction from the turmoil in my mind. I caught a flash of Felix's dark hair to my right, his blades dancing with deadly precision as he carved his own path toward the platform.
"Hey, Ash?" Talon shouted as he executed a perfect spinning kick that sent a soldier flying. "You smell that?"
My stomach clenched. "Smell what?" I knew damn well what he was talking about.
"Cherries," he said, sniffing the air dramatically while simultaneously driving his elbow into someone's face. "Like, really strong cherry scent. Reminds me of—"
"Focus on the fucking fight," I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended. The last thing I needed was to be reminded of her right now. Of how she'd left without a word. Of the hole she'd torn in our world when she disappeared.
Push it down. Lock it up.
Talon raised an eyebrow but didn't press further.
Instead, he let out a wild whoop as he launched himself at a cluster of soldiers, bat swinging with reckless abandon.
I followed in his wake, my blade finding vital points with practiced precision.
Blood sprayed across my mask, warm and sticky, adding another layer to the macabre artwork already decorating it.
But the scent wouldn't leave me alone. It was everywhere now, teasing my senses, making me question my own fucking sanity. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks, conjuring her presence in the midst of chaos and bloodshed because part of me—a part I refused to acknowledge—wished she were here.
Suddenly, the tide began to turn. The relentless waves of enemies thinned, their numbers dwindling with each passing minute.
I paused, chest heaving, to survey the battlefield.
Where moments before there had been an endless sea of Asrael's soldiers, now there were scattered pockets of resistance being systematically eliminated by our forces.
"The fuck?" I muttered, wiping blood from my eyes with the back of my hand.
Talon stood beside me, his bat dripping gore onto the blood-soaked earth. "They're running!" he crowed, pointing at a group of soldiers fleeing toward the castle gates. "Look at those pathetic shits!"
He was right. All across the courtyard, Asrael's men were throwing down their weapons and breaking ranks, some running for the gates, others seeking shelter anywhere they could find it. The dragons circling overhead had decimated their ranks, and our forces on the ground had done the rest.
"We're winning," I said, the words tasting strange on my tongue. Victory had never been a guarantee when we'd stepped through the portal into Besmet. This was too fucking easy.
Talon laughed, a sound of pure joy that was at odds with the carnage surrounding us. "Did you doubt it? We're The Exiled, baby! We don't lose!"
A grin broke across my face despite my best efforts to suppress it. The fucker's enthusiasm was infectious, even in the midst of a bloodbath. "Don't get cocky. It's not over yet."
"But it will be soon," he said, eyes gleaming with savage pleasure as he watched the remaining enemy soldiers scatter like roaches. He spun his bat in his hand, splattering blood in a perfect circle around us. "What next, fearless leader?"
My eyes returned to the platform where it had all started.
The monstrosity standing up there wasn't Asrael anymore—at least not the Asrael I remembered. This was something else entirely, something fucking horrific that made my skin crawl and my demon stir restlessly beneath my human mask.
Standing at least eight feet tall, his body had morphed into something caught between demon and dragon.
Iridescent scales covered his hulking form, gleaming with an oily sheen as they caught the light.
His face was no longer recognizable—elongated into a reptilian snout with slits for nostrils and eyes that were nothing more than amber slashes across his face.
Jagged fangs protruded from his mouth, dripping with a viscous fluid that sizzled when it hit the wooden platform.
But it was the wings that truly marked his transformation. They stretched at least twenty feet from tip to tip, leathery membranes the color of dried blood extending from a grotesquely arched spine. He was the embodiment of every nightmare I'd ever had, and he was facing off against my sister.
"Holy motherfucking shit balls," Talon breathed beside me, his voice barely audible over the sounds of battle. "What the actual fuck is that thing?"
"That," I growled, "is what happens when you dabble in forbidden magic and dragon blood." I'd heard rumors of such transformations, but never thought I'd see one with my own eyes. The amount of power—and pain—required for such a metamorphosis was beyond comprehension.
My attention shifted to Saige, who wasn't fighting Asrael directly. Instead, she was locked in combat with another red-haired woman—no, not a woman. Another abomination. The two of them were sending out wave after wave of vines and ivy, their affinities determined to best the other.
"Is that—?" Talon started.
"Doesn't matter." Without hesitation, I started toward the platform, cutting down any stragglers who got in my way. "Let's go," I called over my shoulder. "Saige needs our help."
"On it," Talon chirped, falling into step beside me, his baseball bat resting casually on his shoulder like we were headed to a fucking little league game instead of a confrontation with two magical science experiment hybrids.
As we closed the distance, I could hear Asrael's voice—distorted and grating—as he cursed Bram and the others who were climbing on the platform now, eager to take him on.
"Ooooh, here comes Big Mishy!!" Talon let out a wolf whistle, drawing the massive demon's attention.
Misha flicked his hand toward us, and the soft whistle of a blade flying by was followed by two thunks and then two separate groans. Talon and I looked over our shoulders to see two soldiers who had been trying to sneak up on us, now bleeding out on the ground.
"Thanks, big boy," I said to Misha, and then I scanned his body looking for any sign of injuries. It would've been impossible to tell if he was considering the amount of blood and dirt on him. "Fuckin' hell, you look like you crawled up out of a literal blood bath."
He grabbed the back of my neck, pulling our faces together. "I was born for this."
"Gods damn right you were! We all fucking were!" I grinned then because what the hell else was I going to do? We were in our element. This was our moment of retribution and victory, and it felt amazing.
Talon wrapped his arms around us and giggled. "This is even better than my dreams."
And he wasn't wrong.
Asrael never thought we'd be back. His followers prayed for us to give up.
There were those who had believed in us but gave up hope over time.
We heard the rumors over the years, the baseless accusations and assumptions.
At first, I'd get so pissed off whenever I'd hear some new bullshit being whispered about us…
I had the overwhelming urge to disprove their vile lies, but I couldn't do that.
No, we had to be smart. Calculated. Precise.
This was the moment where the doubters and the naysayers could choke on dragon dick. We vowed to get vengeance, and vengeance was right. Fucking. Here.