66. Persistent
~ YILAN ~
For the first time since Melek had walked away to face this fight, I could breathe.
He was in the air, arm raised in victory, his head thrown back as he roared—and was answered by the crowd.
I slumped with relief and joy. But it was then, as my mate turned in the air, already forgetting the win and looking for his next prey, that I realized the sky behind him had grown dim.
The shadows were dark and deep, and these men were all consumed with the spectacle in front of them.
It was time for me to help.
I didn’t wait for Melek to find his new target. Diadre and I met eyes, nodded, then walked the shadows, straight out into the crowd, slipping like smoke between sweaty, hostile males.
To sustain the shroud in the partial light of twilight and with so many bodies nearby was a great deal more difficult than simply hiding unmoving in a shadow.
But the crowd’s fixation on the action overhead gave us an edge because they wouldn’t notice a small slip of visible cuff, or the bump of an unseen body beginning to coalesce.
Diadre and I split up, weaving through the crowd, listening for men discussing Melek’s appearance and what it might mean, looking for those who might try to thwart him through less obvious means .
Since most of those near the fighting were focused on the action and screaming for their chosen winner, I quickly moved to the outer layers of the crowd, especially those in clusters, or where men leaned close to each other to speak under the noise of the crowd.
I had ears peeled for schemers, of course.
But there was one Neph in particular that I sought.
In and out, up and down, my control over the shadows shaky at times because I was tired, but I kept moving.
And to my relief, in every conversation I overheard the men were either in support of Melek or didn’t care who won, as long as a winner was found.
Most of those whispers and mutters expressed an impatience for the hierarchy to finally be established so they could give their energy to other things.
It seemed even the Neph had grown weary of this glut of violence.
I was almost buoyant as there was a great gasp from the crowd and I whirled, turning back towards the masses, to see Melek shoot from hovering over the heads of the gathering, to high in the night sky in a streak like he’d been shot from a cannon.
Apprehensive, worried that Melek had been wounded or something bad had been the catalyst for the sudden movement, I paused… and observed the man I’d been looking for, hood up, moving out of the crowd towards the clear space at its edge. He stopped just feet from me and turned to face the fight.
Melek’s grace in the air stole my breath as he gave a powerful flap, propelling himself at high speed, his ebony wings drifting behind him like a cloak, and then at the peak of the climb he snapped them again and spun like a top.
Arms extended and tensed so that every muscle rippled and every vein was carved in his flesh, eyes glowing, Melek scanned the Neph below like a monster of God’s wrath—an angel of death, spinning and darting, seeking his prey. I was left speechless at the sight.
Then he roared and dove back towards the crowd, and I crept closer to my target.
Lanterns were lit nearby, and cooking fires popped and crackled between the tents behind us, casting cones of light that flickered from the flames.
“Such a showman, Melek,” the male in front of me muttered in that voice that crumbled like dry rot .
Hever glanced over his shoulder. For a breath I thought he saw me, but then I realized he was just speaking to himself.
He stood like a statue in that massive cloak, the deep hood pulled over his gray hair, but his chin high. His eyes followed Melek as my mate fought the second challenger.
“So fucking brash,” Hever muttered, shaking his head, his tone coated in disgust. And then he moved, pulling one of his hands out of the deep pocket of his cloak.
It was the kind of bell-sleeve that spread wide over the hand and covered everything but his fingers when his hands were down.
But with his arm bent, and from my angle just behind him, his hand was hidden from my view.
I watched curiously as he lifted his hand to his face, and I thought he had a looking glass, because I saw something round poking out from the fabric.
But it was far too narrow. And too long.
And he didn’t raise it to his eye, but to his lips.
As he did, his sleeve fell from his wrist and every one of my instincts screamed.
Long, shining straw.
Hever drawing a deep breath.
He was going to dart Melek!
Sucking in a panicked breath, I drew my dagger and had that gleaming edge at his throat in a blink—but was forced to reveal myself to do it. Hever froze. We were almost alone this far out, and the men who were nearby faced away, watching the fight.
I clutched the back of Hever’s hood and his hair underneath it to keep him still.
“One twitch and I will open your throat so wide you’ll be breathing out of your neck,” I hissed.
Hever blinked but didn’t move.
“When I came hunting enemies, I didn’t expect to find you,” I growled.
“And you haven’t, you impulsive little bitch,” he hissed back. “What is it that you think I’m doing?!”
I pressed the edge of my blade harder against his throat and felt the flesh give a hair underneath it. He’d feel the trickle of blood even if he didn’t feel the cut itself.
“Tell me how you brought the others through the Shadows of Shade.”
He hesitated, eyed me from the side. “Your Shadows of Shade are not sentient,” he rasped, so quietly I almost missed it. “The magik of it can be… turned aside if one knows how. I know how, though it is challenging.”
I swallowed hard. “Who else knows?”
“No one that I am aware of,” he muttered. “I found no need to share the knowledge with anyone.” His yellow eyes met mine in a challenge.
“How do you do it?”
He huffed. “How do you walk the Shadows—it is a power of which I am capable.”
“Bullshit!” I pressed that blade harder against his throat and he eased back, his eyes narrowing.
“Sheath. Your. Claws,” Hever muttered through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to help your mate.”
“By darting him out of the sky?”
“By poisoning his rival who currently has him on the back foot!” Hever hissed.
There was another roar from the crowd. My body trilled with fear and my eyes flicked towards Melek instinctively.
Time slowed as I looked for Melek to measure his safety. Was Hever being honest?
Hever’s arm jerked.
I heard the small, hollow thock of the pipe, and the dart flew.
Heart jumping in my chest, time running slower than molasses, I pulled the blade along his throat, sucking in a breath to scream a warning to Melek as Hever rasped a strange, guttural word in that voice of death.
My arm went numb like I’d banged the nerve. The blade slipped from unfeeling fingers.
“You fucking witch, I’ll— argh! ”
My words cut off in a strangled yelp as a fist clamped on my throat from behind.
Suddenly I was being pulled, dragged backwards by my neck, the thick, masculine hand clamped down so strong I couldn’t even scream. Meanwhile, Hever, eyes furious , a line of blood trickling down to his collarbone though the cut clearly didn’t slow him in the slightest, slid away from me.
As he slipped from my grasp, I grabbed for his sleeve, but my fingers closed on nothing. I tried to shroud but the power failed me. Arms flailing, feet scrabbling helplessly in the dirt, I clawed at the unknown hand cutting off my air.
The crowd shrieked and tears blurred my vision .
Had that dart found its intended target in my mate?
Let Melek be safe. Please!
Then I heard the snap of thick fabric, and I was thrown bodily into a fathomless space that was an unnatural kind of dark.
I hit the dirt hard, but rolled onto all fours, heaving in a tortured breath once, twice, as I pushed to my feet and whirled towards the man who’d grabbed me, but the world spun and the dark was impenetrable.
I shrouded immediately, but knew I was flickering even in this blackness. I had no strength because I was still trying to get air. But I kept my mouth open to make my inhale as quiet as possible, and turned—staggering at the sight of Lucifer looming over me, that sharp smile on his face .
“You’re a persistent little cunt, aren’t you? I like it.”
Despite the darkness around us, or perhaps because of it, the Fallen didn’t just glow, he blazed like flame, eyes nearly white, his skin shimmering red like hot coals in a fire, and his wings, black as night and shining like steel, thrown wide behind him.
Larger and somehow gleaming even in this dark, as if light shone only where he stood, he was breathtaking. A marvel… A terrifying marvel that made my bowels loosen with fear.
I sank in my stance, lowering my center of gravity and brought one hand up, reaching for the blade at my back with the other, but finding… nothing.
“Tsk, Yilan. Always so bound by the flesh. I’m not here to fight you—I would always win. Immortal, remember?” he said in that strangely warm voice he had.
I didn’t reply. But I patted my jacket to check for the blade under my coat, yet found it flat and empty.
What the fuck? I walked into this night with three blades hidden on my person. How had he removed my weapons and their sheaths?
Lucifer tipped his head and stared at me with those fathomless, golden eyes.
My heart threatened to burst out of my ribs, but I said nothing.
He took one deep breath, then folded his arms, and the furnace inside him blinked out. The warm light disappeared like a snuffed out flame, and instead the darkness appeared to embrace him so fully that if it hadn’t been for his eyes I might not have picked his position.
“I’ll offer you one final chance, Yilan,” he said in a soft purr. “One more opportunity to turn from this path. ”
“What path?”
“The path where you defy me.”
I shook my head. “I will always defy you.”
He ignored me, but his eyes narrowed. “I will take you to mate—don’t worry, Melek will never know—and you will bear the strongest male ever born to the Nephilim. Can you see it, Yilan? Mated to the King and bearing the next in line. Both the men in your life will be legendary.”
I froze as the Fallen took two quick steps to stand right at my toes, staring down at me, his eyes glowing so brightly gold, they were almost white.
“Be mine, Yilan,” he purred, stroking my cheek.
“Never.”
His fingers tightened on my jaw to the point of pain. “Be mine—take me yourself, or I will be forced to take some other little Fetch. They might not make it. Could you live with that on your conscience, Queen?”
God, I wanted to weep.
In a sickening parody of Melek’s intimacy and love, he leaned down with each following word until at the last, his breath was fluttering on my face.
“Be mine, and I will ignore your people. I’ll leave them to their moral little lives.
I will ignore your sister and how easily she might be manipulated.
And I will make certain that the Nephilim follow Melek, even to death.
They will herald him as the best and strongest King in Nephilim history.
Because he will be. Because he will have you.
And together, you and I will make him great. ”
I sucked in and tried to slap his hand away, jerking back. But couldn’t get away.
“I want none of that,” I hissed, shoving at his arm, clawing, but unable to break his grip on my jaw.
“Not even to see your mate, your family, your people thrive?”
“They will not thrive in your hands!”
“They’ll live a hell of a lot longer under me than if you force me to abandon my restraint.”
“I said no!”
Lucifer’s brows rose and he sighed. “I had truly hoped you’d be smart enough not to force my hand. Pity.”
With no warning, he let me go and stepped back as if he hadn’t just been holding me against my will. I backed away from him, half- crouched, watching him warily. But he smiled again like we’d been having nothing but a casual conversation.
“Sadly, we are almost out of chances, Yilan,” he said quietly. “Remember my warning.”
Then he turned and I blinked. Suddenly we were in a tent—dark, but not that abyssal night. With one final, infernal smile, Lucifer walked out, snapping the canvas flap into the tent back with a flick of his fingers and disappearing outside without so much as a backwards glance.
Unwilling to believe he’d just release me like that, I stood there for a half a minute, breathing, patting my clothing to find my weapons returned.
What the fuck?
Sound rushed back in and I could hear the crowd roaring again. My heart skipped a beat as I ignored the tent flap and darted straight towards that sound.
“Melek!”
I walked the shadows, passing through the back of the tent and into the shadow of it to find the crowd cheering, hands raised, growling, calling, and roaring. And above them, Melek, panting, bloodied… and smiling.
Healthy.
Not darted.
Tired, but smiling.
His wings flapped lazily to keep him hovering above them, as he caught his breath and received their praise.
He’d won.