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Before I can react, a blur of movement is all the warning before Azrael tackles Rhyland viciously. The floor shakes with the impact as Azrael rains relentless blows on Rhyland's face, each sickening crack spurring my screams.

Azrael glances my way for an instant—all the opening Rhyland needs. He heaves Azrael overhead with monumental effort, throwing him with such force that the floor cracks under his crashing body.

Rhyland staggers to his feet, face a mask of blood and bruises. He lurches toward me, rasping my name through split lips. At last, his voice breaches the smothering darkness.

I desperately try summoning my power, but taunting whispers invade my mind, stoking doubts and fear.

"You're pathetic...Your parents wanted to die rather than be with you..." they hiss cruelly. I shake my head, rejecting their manipulation.

With a desperate cry, I call on my inner light. It pierces the shadows' choking them like the sunlight breaking through the clouds. The tendril recoils as if burned, freeing me from its constricting hold.

Azrael rises from the rubble, an inhuman roar erupting as he charges Rhyland.

They are locked in fierce combat, exchanging a flurry of blows that has the air crackling with energy—dueled with a ferocity that seems unending. I desperately try to gather more of my power, but it eludes me.

Fucking Fantastic. My so-called mood ring abilities seem to be taking a damn coffee break. What's the point of having these stupid powers if they don't show up when I need them? Thanks for nothing, universe.

Azrael plunges a jagged wooden shard deep into Rhyland's chest in a lightning-quick strike. Time slows to a crawl as Rhyland's eyes widen in shock and agony. He clutches at the embedded wood protruding from his torso, hands slick with the blood that's already soaking through his shirt.

Azrael's cruel laughter rings out as Rhyland's legs give out. He collapses hard onto his knees before toppling onto his side. I stand paralyzed, unable to process the nightmarish scene.

Then I'm running, crashing to the floor at Rhyland's side. "No, no, no," I chant, hands fluttering uselessly over the bubbling wound. Searing pain rips through my heart at the awful sight—the once pristine white marble floor is now stained a glistening crimson as Rhyland's life essence pours from him rapidly.

Rhyland coughs, blood spraying from his lips. His face contorted in agony, complexion fading paler by the second.

Tears blur my vision as I clutch his hand tightly. "You'll be okay; just hold on," I beg desperately, though my gut twists, knowing this wound is beyond my power to heal. I feel Rhyland's fiery life force guttering like a wind-blown candle.

His eyelids droop closed as a final rattling breath escapes him. "Rhyland, hang on!" I scream hoarsely. But he goes still.

I scarcely register Azrael's taunts as I grasp the shard's handle. Bracing myself, I wrench it free in one smooth motion. The horrid sucking sound as it exits Rhyland's flesh will haunt me forever. I toss it aside with a clatter and clutch his motionless body in my arms, praying frantically for any sign of life. Azrael’s eyes glint with sinister intent as he turns them toward me, the corners of his lips pulling back in a twisted smile. He speaks slowly, deliberately, each word laced with malice.

“Ah, the lovely little sorceress. You’ve caused quite a stir, haven’t you? How the hell did you escape my shadows, hmm? ” His voice drips with contempt and hatred. I tighten my grip on my courage, refusing to show any sign of weakness before this monster.

I’m shaking with anger and fear, “Fuck you, you piece of shit. We want nothing to do with you,” I spat.

Azrael’s chuckle echoes through the room like a death knell as he begins circling me like a predator toying with its prey.

“Oh, my dear,” he coos mockingly, “you may not want anything to do with me, but I want everything to do with you.”

The air grows thick and heavy as the tension between us mounts unbearably.

Rhyland drags in a sudden gasping breath, eyelids fluttering. Relief floods through me as shaky exhales follow. Blood still trickles steadily from the terrible wound, but I can tell Rhyland's formidable healing abilities are slowly repairing the damage.

Faster than lightning, he catapults himself toward Azrael, and they collide to the ground with a thunderous crash. Blood soaks through my clothes as I slip on the growing pool beneath my feet. I try to stand, but my feet slip in the thick river of blood. As I claw back up, I see Azrael unleash an ebony wraith from his hands that sails straight at Rhyland, trapping him in a cold embrace of inky darkness similar to what he had cast over me just moments before.

My heart hammers as I stand firm, refusing to show fear. "Aren't you just a pathetic shitstain sucking off the dark lord for scraps of power?" I spit.

Azrael's eyes blaze with malice as he backs me against the wall, viciously fisting my hair. "I'll rip that filthy tongue from your mouth, bitch," he seethes.

His icy chill threatens to consume me, but defiance wells up within. I won't break before this feral beast. Pain shoots through my scalp from his cruel grip.

With a roar, Azrael slams me brutally against the unforgiving wall, driving the breath from my lungs. Gasping raggedly, I force my swimming eyes open.

Rhyland is ensnared in smothering darkness, raw fear twisting his features. The slithering tendrils crush his spirit, warping and coiling around him.

Tears stream down my face as I scream uselessly for Rhyland, my cries swallowed by the hungry void. I'm fucking helpless, forced to watch the shadows devour his essence.

Azrael's vise-like grip clamps my chin, nails digging in. "You'll be mine, whore!" His rancid breath blasts my face as he leans closer. I press back, repulsed by his seeking lips.