Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Enzo
A loud, piercing shriek cut through the chaos of battle like a blade, the sound so sharp it made my tiny bat ears ring.
I banked hard to the left, my wings beating frantically as I whipped around in mid-flight to see a magnificent harpy diving from the storm-dark sky, her powerful wings cutting through the humid bayou air with deadly precision.
My heart lurched with terror. One of Nyx's harpies—they'd made it back from the Underworld. But harpies were predators, and I was small prey in this form. If she attacked me, I was fucking dead. She could easily rip me apart.
The cries from the battlefield drew my attention away from the harpy.
Below, Dimitri and Lorcan were locked in brutal fighting with hordes of dark demons, their forms moving like deadly shadows as they pushed closer and closer to the cathedral's entrance.
Dimitri's supernatural speed allowed him to tear through multiple opponents, but the shadows birthed new demons as quickly as he destroyed them.
Lorcan's sword flashed in brutal strikes, but I could see the strain on his face as he was slowly driven backward toward the ancient stone walls.
Behind him, Keir fought to stay on his feet, still weaponless but calling out warnings as demons tried to flank them.
Fuck. They were overwhelmed. They were losing ground, and fast. The demons were coordinating their attacks, using their numbers to force the defenders into a tighter and tighter circle. If this kept up, they'd be cornered against the cathedral walls with nowhere to retreat.
In the middle of the chaotic fray, Tinker Bell stood like a small island of defiance.
Her tiny frame seemed impossibly fragile against the backdrop of carnage, but there was something in her posture that spoke of hidden strength.
She stared directly at Marsha, who stood apart from the battle with an air of cruel command.
Dread pooled in my stomach as I realized what Tinker Bell was planning.
She was going to face Marsha alone. That small, brave fool was going to try to take on the witch who'd orchestrated this entire nightmare.
The distance between them crackled with tension.
I could feel the weight of impending disaster pressing down on my wings.
I had to do something.
I flew erratically, trying to put distance between myself and the powerful creature while staying close enough to help if needed.
The harpy swooped down on a dark demon that had been stalking Keir with predatory intent, her talons locking around his torso with bone-crushing force before hurling him across the bayou.
The demon crashed into the cathedral wall with a violent crack, and thick vines immediately wrapped around his broken form like hungry serpents.
One less dark demon. If the harpies took down more dark demons, we may just have a chance to overrun the cathedral.
I looked around frantically, my small bat eyes scanning the chaos below.
Where was Serenity? In all the confusion, I'd lost sight of her white wings.
My tiny ribcage tightened as I searched desperately through the storm-dark sky, terrified of what I might find—or not find.
But then, through the trees, a white aura flickered. I flew toward it, not sure what it could be. Where was Angelo?
I shifted as soon as I was only a foot from the ground. I stumbled, cursing. My body wasn’t completely healed, not yet. I needed blood.
I pushed through the thick curtain of hanging Spanish moss, the damp vegetation brushing against my face like ghostly fingers. The earthy scents of decay and stagnant water filled my nostrils as I struggled through the natural barrier. "Serenity?"
Another piercing shriek split the humid night air, so close it made my ears ring. I whipped around, adrenaline spiking through my exhausted body as I braced myself for another attack. My muscles drew tight, ready to fight despite the bone-deep weariness that threatened to drag me down.
I stopped cold.
A second harpy soared into the storm-lashed sky, her powerful wings cutting through the thick bayou air with grace and purpose.
This one wasn't alone—a dark-haired man rode on her back, his form silhouetted against the lightning-split clouds. Even from this distance, I could feel the raw power radiating from him like heat from a forge. It reminded me so much of Joy’s. That had to be Morden.
He lifted his hands toward the battlefield below, and I knew we were fucked. An army of shadows began swarming around his palms like living smoke, writhing and twisting with eager hunger. The darkness seemed to pulse with malevolent life, responding to his will with terrifying obedience.
"Attack!" he cried out.
The shadows dove into the chaotic fray of dark demons below like a plague of locusts.
The effect was instantaneous and devastating.
Dark demons flew out of the battlefield as if they were pieces of popcorn exploding from a hot pan, their screams of pain and terror echoing off the ancient cathedral walls.
Bodies sailed across the battlefield, crashing into trees and splashing into the murky bayou water with heavy splashes.
The tide of battle had just shifted dramatically, and I wasn't sure if that was good news or very, very bad.
Where the fuck was Angelo? I had to know if he made it to Serenity in time.
I raced across the muddy bayou ground toward the brilliant white aura, my boots splashing through puddles and skidding on the slick moss-covered stones.
Cold water soaked through my pants, but I didn't slow.
The air was thick with the smell of stagnant water and decaying vegetation, mixing with something else—smoke, sulfur, the acrid stench of dark magic.
My lungs burned with each gasping breath, my muscles screaming in protest, but fear drove me forward faster than my body wanted to go.
Adrenaline surged through me as I approached the source of that divine light, each beat painful and frantic.
Behind me, the sounds of battle raged—steel clashing, demons shrieking, Dimitri and Lorcan shouting—but it all faded to a distant roar.
The white aura pulsed ahead, so bright it hurt to look at directly, casting long shadows across the gnarled cypress trees.
My throat tightened. Please. Please let him be alive.
I couldn't lose him. Not like this. Not after everything.
I prayed I wouldn't find the worst, even as dread knotted cold and heavy in my gut.
A dark figure stood directly in front of me, his broad shoulders blocking my view of whatever lay behind that ethereal glow.
Even from behind, I could tell by his stance and the familiar set of his frame that it was definitely Angelo.
Thank god. Relief swept through me, weakening my knees.
I wasn't alone in this. Whatever we were facing, Angelo was here, and that changed everything.
He stood perfectly still, as if he were afraid to move, afraid to break whatever fragile moment was unfolding.
I came up beside him, breathing hard from my sprint across the battlefield. "Angelo? What happened?"
He didn't turn to look at me, his dark eyes fixed on the scene before us. He simply gestured with his hand, the movement slow and reverent. "Look."
I followed his gaze, and the world tilted.
The white aura wasn't coming from some divine weapon or magical artifact—it was radiating from Serenity herself.
She knelt on the soggy ground, her white shirt and jeans somehow still pristine despite the chaos around us, her golden hair falling like a curtain around her face.
Gunnar's head rested in her lap, his massive frame looking almost vulnerable in her gentle care.
Where his eyes had been burning red with demonic fury just moments before, now they were his normal clear blue—confused, but undeniably his own again.
The transformation was so complete it was almost hard to believe this was the same creature who'd been tearing through the battlefield like a force of nature.
He slowly sat up, his movements careful and disoriented, like someone waking from a long, terrible dream. His hands shook as he shoved his fingers through his disheveled hair, the gesture achingly human after seeing him as a monster. "What happened?"
Serenity's hands glowed with that pure white light as she reached out to steady him, her touch infinitely gentle. "You were under a dark spell," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I healed you."
The words struck me like a prayer, and for the first time since this nightmare began, the suffocating dread lifted just enough to breathe. We had a shot. A slim one, but a shot.
“You did?” He dropped his arm.
A dark shape landed a few feet away with a deafening crash that sent tremors through my boots.
A low, menacing growl rumbled like a revving Mack truck. The sound locked my muscles tight and set every hair on my arms standing on end. My body went rigid with instinctive terror, recognizing the predator even before my mind could process what I was seeing.
Shit, it was Hades.