Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Ashland
The maze beneath Haunt had always been our sanctuary, our playground of sin and debauchery.
I was forced to watch it transform into something else entirely—a twisted gallery where Felix's artwork writhed and bled across the walls like living entities. I’d never seen anything like it, and one thing was fuckin’ certain. Neither had Asrael.
I strained against whatever the fuck kind of power was holding me in place, but it was useless. My demon raged inside, desperate to break free and protect what was ours. The air crackled with Palmer's energy, making my skin prickle and my wings fight to take flight.
Gods fucking dammit. I had been so caught up in my anger at her deception that I hadn’t taken the time I had after the battle to make it right.
To admit my feelings for her, to acknowledge the way she fit with us, completed our broken little family.
Now watching her dance with death below, purple lightning arcing between her fingers as she faced down that spirit-possessed piece of shit, I realized I wasn't pissed off anymore, I was fucking terrified.
Felix's latest mural—a massive black dragon wrapped around the moon—suddenly peeled itself from the concrete.
Its wings unfolded with a sound like tearing silk as Palmer's power warped reality itself.
The dragon's eyes flashed with an unholy light that matched the purple power surrounding our little witch. Its mouth began to glow yellow before its jaws opened in a silent roar, fire spilling out towards Asrael. It would’ve ignited him but he switched into his ghost form and remained unscathed.
He looked up to where I was suspended and grinned. "Beautiful, isn't she?" His voice echoed through Scorpio's throat, the sound making my stomach turn. "Such raw potential. Such delicious power ready to be molded."
I wanted to tear his fucking throat out for even looking at her.
My muscles strained until I was shaking, but whatever binding he'd cast held firm.
Below, Palmer's hair whipped around her face as she pulled more of Felix's art to life.
The dragon roared, no longer silent as the power built, its bellow reverberating through my bones.
The walls of the maze cracked and buckled as Palmer and Asrael's powers clashed. Pieces of concrete floated upward as if they were underwater, revealing more of Felix's hidden artwork beneath—demons and angels locked in eternal battle, now awakening under Palmer's touch.
"You can't have her," I growled, though the bastard probably couldn't even hear me from up there. My demon pushed against my skin, desperate to break free. If I could just fucking move...
Palmer's scream of rage echoed through the maze as she hurled a bolt of pure spirit energy at Asrael. The possessed fuck dodged, but the blast caught one of his shoulders, making Scorpio's body stumble. Pride and fear warred in my chest. That was our girl. Our dangerous, magnificent little witch.
But Asrael was ancient, powerful. He was playing with her, testing her limits while wearing that gods-damned smirk on Scorpio's face.
Each blast of power that missed him brought another piece of artwork to life, until the maze was a writhing mass of living art.
Felix's creativity turned into weapons in their deadly dance.
If anything happened to her... The thought made my demon howl.
We'd lost too fucking much already. First Jasper, then our home in Besmet, and all the brothers and sisters who died in our war against the crown.
I couldn't lose her too. Not when I was finally starting to understand what she meant to us. To me.
The paralysis spell crackled across my skin like static electricity.
I focused everything I had on moving just one finger, one fucking muscle.
Because the moment this binding broke, I was going to remind Asrael why The Exiled were feared.
Why kings and gods learned to think twice before touching what belonged to us.
And Palmer? She belonged with me. With us.
My gaze darted between my brothers, each trapped at different levels of the maze like fucking gargoyles forced to watch this nightmare unfold.
Talon's eyes blazed crimson, his claws leaving deep grooves in the concrete beneath him. Felix had tears streaming down his face as his creations twisted and writhed in Palmer's power. Even Misha, usually stoic as a stone wall, was trembling with barely contained rage. Sweat dripped down Rhodes’ forehead, the external evidence of his internal battle to escape Asrael’s hold.
Jasper’s body was flickering like a light bulb being turned on and off rapidly.
I had hope that even though he was paralyzed, their mate bond would still allow them to sync their powers.
"You were always meant for greatness," Asrael crooned, making my skin crawl. "Everything I did was to prepare you for this moment. To show you what true power feels like."
Palmer's response was another blast of energy that sent Scorpio's body flying backward. The dragon mural swooped down, its inky wings casting shadows that seemed to pulse with a life of their own.
"Fuck. You," Palmer spat, her voice carrying clearly through the chaos. "You didn't prepare me for anything except learning how to survive manipulative pieces of shit like you."
Gods, she was magnificent in her fury. And that bastard just kept smiling, kept talking like he was some proud mentor watching his student graduate instead of the monster who'd tried to break her.
"Look how far you've come from that scared little girl you were," he purred. "The power you possess now? That's because of me. Because I saw your potential and nurtured you!"
Rhodes snarled from his perch across from me, the sound echoing off the walls. I could feel his pain. We all could. Because that's what Asrael did. He found broken things, convinced them he could fix them, then twisted them into weapons.
Just like he'd done to Jasper.
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. How many others had he corrupted? How many had he destroyed while claiming to save them?
Palmer's next attack cracked the floor beneath Scorpio's feet, sending chunks of concrete floating upward. "The only thing you taught me was that monsters wear pretty masks and speak sweet lies."
"And yet here you are, surrounded by demons." Asrael laughed, the sound all wrong coming from Scorpio's throat. "My beautiful, deadly creation, finally embracing what you were meant to be."
I watched Palmer's shoulders tense and saw the slight hesitation in her stance. That manipulative fuck was trying to get in her head, make her doubt herself. Make her doubt us.
"She's not your anything," I growled, not caring if he could hear me. "She's ours."
As if she'd heard me, Palmer's power surged. Purple lightning arced between the floating pieces of debris, connecting them like a web of raw energy. Felix's artwork rippled and merged, forming new creatures that shouldn't exist outside of nightmares.
"You're right about one thing," Palmer said, her voice steady and cold as winter steel. "I am embracing what I'm meant to be. But I didn't need you for that. I just needed to find my real family."
Pride bloomed in my chest, fierce and bright as dragonfire. That's our girl. Our little witch who'd fought her way through hell and chosen us—chosen The Exiled—as her home.
Now if I could just break this fucking binding spell, I'd show Asrael exactly what happened to anyone who tried to take our family away from us.
Fuck, she'd raced right into a dead end and Asrael laughed mockingly when he realized he had her cornered. "Listen, Palmer, I just want to talk," he said, smooth as silk.
"I don't want to hear a word from your mouth, they're nothing but poison!" She tapped her fingers together, creating little zaps of purple power.
"She's… mine…" Scorpio's voice broke through, sending tremors through their shared body and pissing off Asrael.
"Shut up, you weak, pathetic boy!" he roared so loud that it hurt my ears.
The maze's shadows writhed as Palmer backed away from Scorpio's convulsing form. My heart slammed against my ribs, every instinct screaming to protect her. To shield her from the grotesque scene unfolding before us.
"Get... out..." Scorpio's voice gurgled, his body jerking like a puppet with tangled strings. The sound of bones cracking filled the air as his spine arched at an impossible angle.
"You insignificant waste of flesh," Asrael's voice overlapped Scorpio's, creating a hellish chorus that made even my demon recoil. "I should have destroyed you the moment you outlived your usefulness."
Dark liquid—too thick to be blood—poured from Scorpio's mouth and nose.
His skin rippled like there were things crawling beneath it, fighting to break free.
I'd seen some fucked up shit in my centuries of existence, but watching two spirits war for control of one body? That was a new level of nightmare fuel.
Our little witch's eyes were wide, her chest heaving as she struggled to process what she was witnessing. The living artwork around her responded to her distress, writhing and screaming in silent agony.
"Baby, open the veil!" I shouted in my head, praying she could somehow, someway, hear me. "You can do this!"
Scorpio's body bent backward, his spine a perfect arch as more of that black liquid sprayed from his mouth. A sound like tearing flesh filled the air, and I watched in revulsion as something started to emerge from his chest—a ghostly form trying to claw its way free.
"I won't... let you..." Scorpio's voice was barely human anymore.
Palmer's power crackled through the air, making my skin buzz like I'd been struck by lightning. The veil between worlds shimmered into existence behind Scorpio's thrashing form—a curtain of shadows and starlight that shouldn't exist in our reality.