Divine Retribution (Divine #2)

1. Brielle

1

Brielle

B efore I can even process the words out of Ash’s mouth, an obsidian shadow lunges toward Andrea.

In an instant, Andrea is pinned to the wall. Ash’s ring-clad hand is wrapped around her throat as her feet dangle a few inches from the ground.

Heat, not nearly as hot as before, emerges in my veins. Only anger and adrenaline send this warmth throughout my body.

“Ash!” Azra’s deep voice booms around us. The tall-winged male doesn’t move as Andrea claws at his tattooed hand for oxygen. His wings—such a pure black—ruffle as shadowy tendrils swirl from them.

My heart bottoms out at the sight.

“Who are you?” Ash growls through his gritted teeth. My best friend’s eyes dart to me, her eyebrows pinching in confusion. Her smooth, caramel skin turns red as her lungs demand air.

The shock that has me frozen in place wears off, and I push Ash with all of my might to release her. He is like a marble statue. He doesn’t budge. His eyes glow a shade similar to Azra’s. His almost black hair is hanging in his face as he stares into Andrea’s soul.

I stumble back. The anguish in his eyes, as he stares at my childhood best friend, is gut-wrenching. Longing and anger all fighting for dominance in his baby blue stare.

Azra finally places his hand on Ash’s chest and pushes him back with seemingly little force. However, the shove is enough to get him to drop Andrea. She falls to the floor, grabbing her throat as she coughs and gasps for air to fill her starved lungs.

I run to her and drop to my knees, placing my hand on her back to let her know I’ve got her while she still fights for air. The blood rushing in my ears and the rage building in my body cloud all of my senses. Before I can truly register what I’m doing, I pass Azra and approach Ash.

My balled fist instantly hits his jaw. His head barely moves from the force of my punch, but that force rattles my bones to my elbow. My rage is still too much for me to register the pain. Grabbing my hand that’s still vibrating from the contact, I stare deeply into Ash’s eyes as he clenches his jaw. The swirling shadows curl back into him as his wings tighten.

“If you ever put your hands on someone I love again, I will skin you alive.” My eyes stay locked on his for what seems like hours, but he finally breaks the stare to something behind me. Azra’s heat warms my back shortly after.

“I think I may have found something—” Cyprian’s voice trails off as he halts in the archway with a large book in his hands. “What’s going on here?” he asks hesitantly before finally looking at me. His eyes drop to my hand and I realize I can’t move it.

I broke my fucking hand …

“Ash, leave. Now.” Azra’s voice booms from behind me once again. Ash is still staring at him as he clenches his jaw once more before turning away and leaving. I turn and hurry back to Andrea, who is now sitting with her back to the wall.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I check her throat for any bruising. Markings are already showing up.

“I’m fine. Your hand, Brielle.” She mutters as she reaches for it. I hiss as she takes it into her hands, now feeling every bit of the broken bones.

“I’ll be all right.” I smile at her as I tuck my injured hand into my chest and help her up with my other. Azra approaches us when we are both on our feet. He nods to Andrea.

“My apologies for my brother. This will never happen again.” His tone is sincere, but his eyes soften as they finally land on me. “Let me see your hand.” His cool hands are a shock to my warm sweaty hands. Still no sign of that familiar fire that used to burn within.

“So, is nobody going to tell me what the hell just happened here?” Cyprian closes the book in his hands and walks past us, setting it down on the table.

I start to feel the slightest sting in my hand as Azra heals the broken bones. My heart races as his power flows from his hands into mine. Flashbacks of him dead on the ground two months ago burn through my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut to get rid of those images that have haunted me every night since.

“I don’t know… I—” Andrea’s frantic, hoarse voice has my eyes snapping open. I know my hand is almost healed from the relief of pressure.

“Who is Caroline?” I look to whose eyes stay on the light shining between our hands. Azra’s jaw tightens slightly. I have never seen him react this way. Almost as if he is uncomfortable talking about whoever Caroline is.

“He said—” Cyprian pauses for a second with wide eyes. “He called your friend Caroline?” I’ve also never seen Cyprian so hesitant before. A small pit in my stomach begins to turn my breakfast.

I look over to Andrea now standing wide-eyed next to me. Confused, as I am. Azra gently releases my hand. I flex my fingers and examine the once-deformed limb. No trace of pain and pressure is evident beneath my skin as before.

My eyes dart to Azra’s as I silently communicate that I am not playing this guess-who game with them.

Azra clears his throat and reluctantly gives in. “Caroline was the love of Ash’s life.” I can see the pain welling in his eyes as he is taken back in time. She must have died tragically if Azra is affected like this for his brother.

“What happened?” I ask, being cautious of this sensitive topic but also needing to know why Ash could think Andrea was his love from long ago.

“She was a very powerful witch. When her village found out about her love for a powerful entity such as Ash, they were threatened by the powers they would possess together. They were threatened even more by the thought of them having offspring. In rage and fear, her village rioted while Ash, Torin and I were away terrorizing other villages, and burned her at the stake. They made sure it was a slow and cruel death, leaving her charred body strung up in the middle of town for Ash to see when we returned. We killed everyone in the village that night.” Azra quickly stares out the windows beside us to avoid my watering eyes.

The heartbreak Ash must have endured… Again, flashbacks to Azra’s dead beaten body on the ground below me start rampaging my brain. I slightly shake my head and glance at Andrea, who is cupping her mouth with her hand in shock.

Cyprian hangs his head. Azra’s beautiful icy eyes shine in the sun’s rays through the window. “Why would he think Andrea is Caroline? Does she look like her?” My brows pinch, trying to think of any reason he would have mistaken her for his late love.

“I don’t think she resembles Caroline, but I didn’t know her the way Ash knew her. I plan to talk with him as soon as he cools off from whatever he thought he saw in her.” Azra answers, finally gazing back at me.

“Will he be okay?” Andrea asks with a pinched expression.

“Are you okay? That should be the question.” I rest my hand on Andrea’s biceps, rubbing my thumb back and forth.

“I can assure you, that will never happen again while you are a guest in my home. My sincerest apologies. I want you to feel as safe as possible while visiting. Please, understand that this incident is a complete shock to me.” Azra slides his hands into his pockets as he faces Andrea. I don’t want her to leave, but I won’t make her stay if she feels unsafe. I’ll let the decision be hers after Azra’s apology.

I know he is only this nice to her because he knows if he weren’t, I would have his balls hanging from one of his fancy chandeliers.

I notice the slight wince on Azra’s face telling me he heard my thoughts. I have to bite my lips to stop the smirk that is pulling at my mouth.

“I’m fine, truly. I feel safe here with you guys.” She gives a half smile while waiting for my reaction. She knows I will ship her back home in a heartbeat if she is uncomfortable.

I can’t help the huge smile split across my face, knowing my friend is staying with me this month. Her expression changes quickly again as she does a double take of Azra’s “adopted” brother leaning against the table.

They only mention that he’s not truly their brother when he pisses them off, but we all know Cyprian is family and is treated as such. No matter how much of a pain in the ass he is.

Andrea looks at me again and slightly nods her head toward Cyprian. I know in an instant what she is thinking before she even has to ask. Still grinning, I cup my hand around the side of my mouth and whisper to her, “He’s a faerie.” I lift my eyebrow as I wait for her reaction.

“Like Tinker Bell?”

I snort as I nod.

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head as her eyes dart between me and Cyprian, who is now giving me a death stare. I can tell he’s annoyed by the red tips of his pointy ears.

Azra and I begin to laugh at both of them.

“Ha ha. Joke time is over. I found something.” Cyprian’s serious tone has the room falling silent. Whatever he found must have something to do with why I haven’t felt my true powers since transferring them to save Azra after Sabel killed him in Lilith’s cave.

Losing my powers isn’t what keeps me up at night. It’s seeing the only man I have ever loved dead before me, as my mom was seven years ago. Killing Lilith, the being that killed my mom and my grandmother, didn’t heal this wound the way I had thought it would.

It only left a larger hole in my heart.

Celeste’s wings and grace were ripped from her before she was thrown out of the Heavens, but she still has enough powers to not age and still feels it coursing through her veins.

I only feel it in the smallest depths of my body, like a candle wick trying to relight after blowing it out. Though, to be fair, nothing but crippling trauma from watching people I love die in front of me occupies most of my thoughts.

My chest tightens for Ash, seeing the love of his life he hasn’t seen in centuries when he glared at Andrea. There has to be some explanation.

I follow Cyprian upstairs to the library, Andrea and Azra behind me. I don’t miss how alert Azra is now, no doubt making sure Ash is still gone.

Azra quietly closes the library doors behind us and walks to the small bar where he keeps his liquor. Cyprian places the large book in his hand that looks as if it hasn’t been opened in centuries on the desk and begins flipping through the worn pages.

A few candles float over to the desk Cyprian has filled with ancient books. They illuminate the pages even more than the sunlight beaming through the large doors leading to a balcony. Cyprian may be a lot of things and an absolute pain in my ass, but weak is not one. His powers are quite similar to the ones of the fallen angels I have grown to know and love.

“I’ve searched high and low for—” Cyprian’s eyes dart to an object near the book he has now stopped flipping through. I follow his line of sight and notice the object that has caught his attention. Before heat can completely take over my complexion, Cyprian’s eyes bounce between me and Azra’s. “Why are there bite marks on this candle?”

Amusement fills Azra’s eyes as my head snaps to him. I hadn’t thought about that candle since that night he used it to keep me quiet while he feasted on me.

Why didn’t I have it thrown out?

The horror on my face was enough of an answer for Cyprian as his eyebrows flick up. Andrea covers her smile with her fingertips as she realizes why there are bite marks in that candle.

“You know what? Never mind.” Cyprian curls his lip and shakes his head. “I have searched through all the stories and records of every being in all the realms. The only mention of a half-breed is—” he continued, placing that particular candle on the edge of the desk. I roll my lips to stop from giggling.

“A nephilim.” Azra snaps, correcting his brother before he takes a sip of the amber liquid he poured. Azra’s smile still lingers on those full lips, surrounded by the black beard that is neatly trimmed close to the skin.

Cyprian and I have been getting along for the most part, but his condescending attitude still rears its ugly head occasionally.

Cyprian rolls his eyes and proceeds. “Right. A nephilim. Since I wasn’t having any luck, I began looking into the lore books, tales, and made-up stories passed down for as long as there have been breathing species. I’ve only found one story about a nephilim. It’s as if any information about them has been purposely wiped from everything.” He flips more pages again until landing on a drawing that takes up an entire page. He skims through the words on the opposite page.

“The tale goes that her mother was beheaded by a king because of her disobedience. The mother’s only child practically exploded with power and decimated three villages surrounding her at her mother’s execution. She was a monster to monsters during this time. Even stronger than the angel that was said to have sired her.” Cyprian glances at me. I only know his eyes are upon me because I feel them. My eyes haven’t left the page that displays that drawing.

It’s a drawing of a girl who looks no older than sixteen and is surrounded by charred ground as flamed wings form behind her dark curly hair and brown skin. Azra steps forward, his hand now resting on my lower back. Andrea steps closer, her hand on her chest as she gapes at the picture.

My voice comes out strained. “So what does that mean? Does it mean my powers are gone because I let out a blast of my power similar to hers ?” I finally look up from the drawing.

Cyprian continues, “The story says this girl went on to kill anything she came into contact with until the angels came down to take care of it. So her powers weren’t drained, which makes me think yours aren’t either. Unlike angels, your grace is one with your soul, blended in your very essence. Unless someone rips your soul completely from you, you will never lose your powers. Angel’s souls are made of grace only. When it’s stripped from them, they’re left with nothing. Hence, fallen angels that are completely stripped of their grace turn into demons. It is why demons appear to you as mist and smoke in their true form because that is all they are. You are much stronger and far more dangerous than an angel.” He peers at us through his thick brown eyebrows, his caramel skin almost pale.

I swallow as the words seep in. I still have my powers. But where are they? Why haven’t I felt them the way I did that day in Lilith’s cave? My chest tightens at the thought of that day, the day I try so very hard to erase from my memory.

“How exactly am I stronger?” My voice is trembly now.

“On top of your angelic powers, you have a human soul that enhances that power in ways unimaginable. The human soul is complex and powerful in its own right. Adding to it makes a power unmatchable by anything other than their kind. Angels are aware and have control of their powers and when to use them. Their souls were made to obey and only that. You, feral creature, march to the beat of your own drum with such power, and that scares even the nastiest beings.”

“Cyprian.” His hands fly up in surrender as he takes Azra’s warning for his choice of words.

He continues, “But, as I said, this is only a bedtime story told centuries ago to teach women to obey men. Angels exterminated her, and she still had her powers until her last breath. If you haven’t sold your soul, you should still have those powers coursing through your veins. You should be able to bring one hundred angels back and regenerate enough power to do it again the next minute.” Cyprian crosses his arms and leans back into the chair behind the desk scattered with books.

“How do you know so much from just this story?”

“I’ve been around for a long time. I have heard stories species like to keep hushed and I like to be prepared for anything that comes my way. I hear everything…” His voice trails off as if he is recalling things he wishes he had never heard. I remember the story Azra told me about how he arrived here and the few faeries he saved.

My eyes start to sting, I quickly blink before enough liquid can conjure up to form a tear. Azra’s eyes soften as he rubs tiny circles with his hand on my back.

What is it, angel?

His low voice, so gentle, floats through my mind, caressing it with a calming touch.

What could be causing my powers to be this drained? I do nothing but help out the villagers every day in town, and if I’m not doing that, I’m spending every spare minute with Azra.

A loud thump pulls my attention to Andrea. She jumps back. A large book lies before her feet. We are standing in the middle of the library.

We all look up to the upper level where the book had to have fallen as Andrea stares at me with wide eyes. This house comes with its fair share of creeks and moans, but flying books is a first for me.

Cyprian walks over and retrieves the book from the ground. With one glance at the cover, he quickly tucks the book into his arm. I don’t miss the rush of blood tinting his cheeks.

“I must have not put this back on the shelf correctly. My apologies.” He slightly bows and walks back to the desk scattered with papers and slips the book at the bottom of a stack. My eyebrows pinch slightly, but I hide my expression to not make Andrea worry. Azra now stared at him with a pointed stare.

“Is this place haunted?” Andrea asks, practically curling into herself as she glances around. I huff a laugh at the thought of ghosts lurking in the halls of this house.

“Only by brooding pain in the ass males.” Cyprian amuses. Azra raises his brow toward Cyprian as he laughs at his joke.

I roll my eyes as Andrea smirks, but fear still lingers on her features.

I straighten my spine and slightly shake all the information Cyprian spilled to us out of my head for now. I try not to harp on it because I know the dark place it will take me in my mind.