Chapter 9
~Cassius~
She was flailing.
Hurting.
My fists clenched around the branch of the tree either side of where I sat perched watching her, as she cried while curled up on her bed in her dormitory.
I was almost positive that she wasn’t aware, but I could feel more than just extreme distress through our Soul Brand.
She wouldn’t know because I didn’t engage in much of anything on my end, so she wouldn’t have experienced it from me.
But in her case, I’d felt a great deal tonight.
Unfortunately.
Uncertainty. Anxiety. Excitement. Happiness.
Then… waves of desire and sexual pleasure.
And then… a crash.
A severe one.
Panic and distress had flooded her.
Hopelessness and fear.
And now… resignation and utter desolation.
I’d learned quickly how to stop her from feeling my emotions, but I was already equipped from years as a True Celestial to operating that way—I muted everything.
For a being of this plane, though, that was not possible.
But thankfully, I could at least spare her my burdens—the guilt and ruin, the pain of my fall.
She had enough to deal with without taking on my issues.
And I’d thought she’d been dealing well, doing much better since that awful night when she’d let go of hope—and life—entirely.
Alas, tonight had triggered her and it had caused a regression.
I squeezed my eyes shut. No.
She’d come so far.
Yet, now there was this.
It pained me so deeply as it felt like such a callback to that night many months ago:
A scream caught my attention and I turned to see the glint of a jeweled dagger being plunged into the abdomen of a young woman, her ombre hair plastered to her face, as blood and sweat slicked her skin.
As she fell to her knees, the being who had their back to me grasped her throat viciously. “Sorin sends his regards, tainted one. He wanted you to suffer as you perish.”
He twisted the blade, and she shrieked, collapsing onto her back.
“Long live Puritas.”
I found myself experiencing the urge to intervene, even though it was written that I should not, that it wasn’t my place.
An explosion of vibrant-green light tore through the area, blasting the assailant hundreds of feet into the distance.
I watched as the sorcerer whom I knew to be Ryker Morgan came into view a moment before he teleported out, following the path of the assailant.
As I tracked his teleportation path, another caught my eye in the form of blue magic joining his deep in the forest in the distance.
My attention went to the young woman not far from me, over by a willow tree.
Her fingers shook, emanating with her purple power, as she raised her hand to the wound.
But she did not follow through.
I frowned as I watched her drop her hand in defeat instead.
She stared up at the sky and I heard her raspy voice, “Deliver me from this anguish. The world has no place for me. There’s just… fight. Darkness surrounds me and I… I can’t… become that.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m ready. I’m done.”
I felt a pull in my chest.
I didn’t care for it.
But simply willing it to leave me didn’t have it abating.
In fact, it grew ever stronger as I continued staring out at her.
Her anguish.
The tears of defeat rolling down her cheeks.
Her desperation to be delivered from this life.
In the next moment, I let my wings carry me the distance between us.
And then I was there, crouching down beside her.
She was a slight thing at a cursory glance—barely five feet tall, with a petite frame.
But looking closer I saw her toned muscle, the kind that spoke to her engaging in regular combat, or training, perhaps.
Black leather pants clung to her legs, now soiled with dirt, crushed stone, and blood.
Her breasts heaved as she panted, pushing against her corset-style top that was decorated pleasantly with silver chains and baubles.
Black shadows covered her grayish-tinted skin, and she was wearing smoky makeup and lipstick that only added to that effect.
Her hair was a contrast in itself, a stark white near the top, yet ending with black tips.
And her eyes… her eyes were enchanting, a shimmering amethyst.
I started as I registered that reaction to her, that I found even her eyes captivating.
I shouldn’t be having a reaction.
It was absolutely outlawed.
I’d just laid eyes on one who had been torn from the Celestial Plane for committing the act of falling for a being of the mortal world. It should have served to reinforce my commitment to stand at a distance to anything like that while I remained here to complete my mission.
Not to mention, I was already out of favor with them as it was for my beliefs not aligning with theirs.
It was why I’d been sent here to undertake such a lowly task as functioning as trainer.
It was more than that, actually. They didn’t believe I would succeed in readying my charge for her duty.
They believed she would either defy me and their will, or that it would escalate and she would target them in order to free herself from the bargain that had been made in her name.
I suspected that they wanted the latter to occur.
Right now, as the bargain was in effect, it would be a violation of their own Laws if they broke it on their end by coming for her.
So they wanted her to do so. And then they would do what they’d really intended—wipe her from existence.
Of course, they would wait until she’d done what they needed her to do—vanquish the threat they had made it her destiny to.
A threat I didn’t know the identity of.
They’d kept it from me.
No matter, that could be rectified while I was here.
“You… heard me?”
I was pulled back to the immediate moment by the sound of that weakening voice, one that I registered as more than raspy or strained, but also decidedly sultry.
I blinked to see her stunning eyes on me, staring at me with incomprehension.
“You’re an… angel. A… real one? You… heard my… plea?”
“I heard you.”
She sucked in a stilted breath. “I’m not… going to… Hell when… I die this… night?” She frowned up at me. “I thought…” Tears fell unrestrained then, and she choked as the upset put a strain on her body with that wound, the knife even still embedded in her flesh.
She thought I was here to take her up to salvation.
And she’d believed it couldn’t come to pass for her, believed she was damned and slated to be sentenced to an afterlife of torment.
All because of what she was?
Something she had no control over.
I brushed my fingers against hers and pulled on my power a little.
And then I felt it.
It was worse than that.
She’d been made into this hybrid form. It had been forced upon her.
I pulled a little harder.
Memories flooded into me. Just surface memories, because I couldn’t delve any deeper while she was in this state, or it could undo her.
Crossborn.
Loneliness.
Hopelessness.
Grief.
Devastation.
And through all of that, the urge to do good, to make the lives of others better than hers had been thus far, rose above the rest.
And she’d still believed she was damned?
I gritted my teeth.
No.
It wasn’t how it should be.
There was no righteousness in that.
It was all… wrong.
I’d also registered that she’d been propelled out here due to the Hellfire I’d seen Ariana battling. Hellfire from a manufactured weapon that shouldn’t exist.
This wasn’t her fate.
That weapon wasn’t supposed to be.
As such, she shouldn’t have been thrown out here and made vulnerable enough for that fiend to stab her.
This wasn’t order.
“You are far from being damned, little shadow.”
“I’m… darkness.”
“That is what you were made into, not who you are. I can see it… so much light blazing around you.” I smiled as her eyes widened in disbelief, a spark of hope breaking through.
“You are much more than this.” I pressed my hand to her forehead.
She was feverish, her skin on fire with it.
“You will show them. You will show them all.”
“I’m… tired.”
“You are not done.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s too… late anyway. I didn’t… pull out… the blade.”
I took in the dagger and brushed my fingers over it, feeling the element of iron.
I’d already discerned that she was part Dark Fae, as well as being Wraith.
Iron was a death sentence to Fae. Aware of her Wraith abilities, it was clear to me that if she’d pulled it out right away, she could have used that power to heal herself.
But she’d left it in, allowing the infection to spread through her body.
I ran my fingers over her chest and she tensed. Of course. Touching there was also considered an intimate act. Curses! I wasn’t… familiar with that sort of thing. There was no… sexuality on the Celestial Plane.
“What’s your name?” I asked in a bid to take some of the awkwardness away.
“Velra… Velra Nox.”
I smiled. “Nice to meet you, Velra.”
That had some of the tension from my touch easing and she returned my smile with a strained one of her own.
I focused on the brown veins that were nearing her heart. So very near.
It was similar to the effects of a Celestial wound.
“It is not too late. If that is what you wish, I can pull you back from death. But we have mere moments before the iron poisoning reaches your heart.”
Her eyes shone at me. “Was it… true… what you… said? Am I… really… not… damned?”
“You are not, little shadow.”
She startled me then as she grasped my hand.
Her grip was weak, but the unexpected touch… it felt like it was burning through me.
It felt like she was clutching me in a forceful grip all over my being.
I suppose she was.
Because this… all of this… it wasn’t supposed to be.
Her captivating amethyst eyes flickered with so much emotion, and I saw a spark of hope there in amongst all the rest.
She moved to speak, and I found myself holding my breath for her answer, as I felt the weight of it, of another’s choice.
Such a profound choice, one that she was being forced to make while withering away, while in so much pain in all senses.