Page 36 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Demon

Lunging forward, I draw my sword up going in for a fatal blow, except the sound of metal clanking together rings out, the impact vibrating into my hand and up my arm.

Without so much as a pause, I jump back and pivot before spinning in the opposite direction, throwing the Devil off and when my sword cuts through the air this time, it glides against the leathers on Lucifer’s back.

He arches forward, sweat matting his dark bangs back, and glowers at me. We dance, circling one another, waiting for the next move.

“You’re bothered with something.”

Lucifer goads.

In response, I plunge my weapon forward, aiming to stab him in the gut. He’s quick though, already predicting my next move. He eggs me on, provokes me to make stupid mistakes that I can easily avoid with a clear, focused mind.

“You’re just bitter that I have a new sword and as promised, I’m annihilating you, God of Hell.”

Our weapons clash together over and over again as our feet shuffle along the stone floor of the training room. The stifling breeze of Hell hardly relieves the sweat coating every inch of my skin. Even when I feel as though I may drop cold, I keep going. Stars blind my vision and the room sways, but my blade still swings.

Until it doesn’t.

Dropping to the ground, Lucifer climbs atop of me, tip of his sword at my neck. My chest aches and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the room to stop spinning.

“You exerted yourself too much and if you hadn’t, you might have won.”

I smack his blade away from my throat and he sheathes it at his back. Climbing off of me, Lucifer jumps to his feet and pulls me with him before wiping dirt from my shoulder.

“Again.” I pant.

“Give it a rest, Lynx. You nearly just passed out.”

“Again,” I growl.

He eyes me wearily, assessing how bad the mess is inside my manic mind.

“That bad, huh?”

I take a fighting stance, feet parting, sword raised.

The Devil sighs, then withdraws his sword one more time.

We battle until I win. Then win again. And after our third round, Lucifer is done.

The normally dense air thins as we suck in breath after breath, our lungs completely deprived after hours of sparring. Yet, my thoughts still torment me.

“How do you do it?”

I finally ask him as I drop to the ground, resting my forearm on my raised knee.

“Do what?”

He falls beside me, leaning against the stone wall behind us.

“How do you let yourself love someone?”

Lucifer chuckles, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Easily. It comes as naturally to me as breathing does.”

“And what if it doesn’t come naturally?”

“Then you work at it.”

There’s a beaming smile on his face, one that forces the opposite on mine.

“What?”

I snap, the smug look more irritating than his answer.

“Just never thought I would see the day, my friend.”

“Don’t get too excited. She hates my guts.”

“Mmm, probably for good reason.”

I nod, picking at a dirt stain on my knee.

“Even after I told her.”

His brows shoot up his forehead as he winces.

“You told her you love her?”

“Yep, and she all but scoffed in my face.”

He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“You’ve done nothing to woo her. You can only expect in return than what you’ve given.”

He smiles again, bemused.

“You really love her? A Fentonelli?”

I shrug.

“You sure it isn’t just lust for the first female you have encountered in decades?”

Lust is what I've chalked it up to all this time, until last night. I laid awake for hours after the angel fell asleep in my arms. As I stroked her soft, silky dark hair, I thought long and hard about what it meant for my heart to hurt so much for someone that wasn’t my sister. For a Fentonelli.

By the time the sun rose, I concluded that I didn’t care who she was or where she came from because this woman in my arms deserves so much better. She deserves to be loved and that pressure in my chest, the weighted heaviness, that was what lay in wait for her – love.

I meet the Devil’s eyes, my near-brother, and swallow before confessing.

“It’s not lust.”

“Then I suggest you fight for her and if she fights back, concede. Take the beating and let her see that you are hers, utterly and wholly hers.”

“Wouldn’t be the first beating,”

I mutter to myself, still sporting the wound she graced my face with.

Lucifer chuckles again, pushing to his feet and offering me a hand. I take it, my palm wrapped in his and I leverage myself to stand.

“I think I finally get it.”

“Good, then now you know the lengths I’ll go for Ada.”

We met an hour later in the Great Hall to replenish what we burned all morning. After which we went over our plans on saving Ada from Achaz’s sons.

There’s no advantage of us being in Heaven and none for the Gods in Hell. This pre-war mission is dangerous and without Lucifer... there’s no room for error.

Once we have Lucifer’s wife, it will only be a matter of time before the Gods strike. They themselves will not show on our doorstep, but I can only imagine the havoc they will bring down on Hell.

Our only other goal besides slaying the Gods, is to save the souls worth saving. The saints and angels who loathe us with every fiber of their being, they are not our targets. They’re just blind to the injustices brought forth by their precious deities. Hardly their fault, but we will make them see.

I spend the day sentencing fallen angels and the newly dead. Some of which I show mercy, to Lucifer’s surprise. Others, I cast them off to the Canyon to feed the Hell Hounds. Greygore didn’t even make it on the list of punishments today despite normally favoring him.

A part of me hates how soft I’ve become, but when the Devil tells me to cherish it instead, nurture that new feeling in my chest, I do. If only to show the angel that I’m more than just a demon.

I give Briar her space, but by the following morning, that hunger that starts to feast away at the belly forces her into the Great Hall where Lucifer and I are just filling our plates.

My eyes snap to hers in an instant finding that very emptiness she’s carried since the Tree. She sits without a word, filling a mug with coffee. I watch her every move; her dainty fingers grasping the handle, her lips caressing the edge of the cup, the column of her neck contracting as she swallows.

Devil, save me.

My gut clenches and then twists. My blood boils and pops. Fuck, my heart pounds until it pulses in the tips of my fingers and the ends of my toes.

I don’t miss Lucifer’s smirk at the way I look at the angel. Neither does she.

“What?”

she finally speaks.

Her voice is hoarse from crying or lack of use perhaps, but it’s still somehow the best thing I’ve ever heard.

Is it always like this? Falling so fast, so hard?

Is love just a tower you climb and throw yourself off of hoping there’s no end?

Because that’s how it feels.

Lucifer shrugs.

“Good to see you up and about, dear.”

“There’s no use laying around dwelling in your own trauma without any reprieve. Not like I can kill myself.”

So morbid, so bleak. So different than the angel who fought to stay in Heaven.

“Lynx and I were going to spar after breakfast, maybe you could take my place instead.”

My lungs expand with air – with hope.

Until those jade eyes narrow on me.

“It helps,”

I add.

“To take your mind off things. For the most part.”

“Fine,”

she agrees, sipping at her coffee again.

“But you should eat something beforehand.”

I scoop some eggs onto her plate, along with some breakfast sausage to make sure she keeps up her energy.

“I don’t need you to feed me.”

“I know you don’t.”

It’s a lie, after the last couple days, I don’t trust her ability to take care of herself and if she would let me, I’d do it all for her. Except, I know she’d never admit she needs my help.

She doesn’t touch the plate. Not the entire time we finish breakfast. She rises without so much as another look at the food and makes her exit.

“Meet in the training room in an hour,”

I call out to her back and am awarded with a thumbs up.

Good enough for me.

I stand at the edge of the training room, overlooking the lands of Hell. My skin burns beneath the black leather I wear from the hot red rays of the sun, but should I turn away and stare at the door, I know I’ll look too anxious.

When I hear her footsteps as she reaches that top step, I finally spin on my heels. She wears similar black leather, covering as much skin as possible. The tight fabric stretches over every curve, and I can’t fight the urge to drag my gaze down every bit of her.

If I didn’t know she’s only had a day’s training with her daggers, I’d think she may very well be as lethal as she looks.

I toss my sword near the wall.

“I don’t need you to go easy on me.”

She bites, her fingers curling around the handles of her weapons to unsheathe them.

“Oh, I won’t. I just don’t need a sword to do that.”

She rolls her eyes.

The long tail of her braid swishes as she stalks toward the center of the room where I meet her. We stand only feet apart, but it feels like a million miles.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Angel.”

Without even thinking it through, she lunges forward and jabs, aiming for my ribs. She misses easily as I simply step to the side. A growl rumbles up from her chest. She spins behind me and without even needing to turn around, I sidestep again. This time, I grab hold of one of her arms and restrain it behind her back.

“It seems you look scarier than you actually are.”

Her dark brows dip in anger and her lips pinch. She raises her free hand and swings it down, trying to pierce my thigh with her other dagger. I catch that hand too, restraining it with the other one.

“Too easy.”

I chuckle in her ear.

After a few seconds, I release her, and we both take a fighting stance in the middle again.

This time she puts all her energy into every move. Swiping viciously and aimlessly, as long as she hits something. Only to her dismay, she hits nothing. She pants heavily, her chest expanding with ragged breaths.

I can sense the rage that quickly replaces that emptiness inside of her. It’s a good start. Anger is better than feeling nothing at all.

“Stop thinking about what you’re feeling and start thinking about your moves. They need to have purpose.”

She glowers as she gives a slight crouch at the knees and raises her weapons. The sun glints against her silver metal blades that she twists in her hands. She steadies herself, steadies her breathing and with one step she starts left, but then completely darts right and manages to slice over the leather on my forearm.

I chuckle.

“Good. Just like that.”

We go again. Immediately, I get her arm behind her and force one of her daggers to clatter against the stone floor. With a quick kick to the back of her knees, I have her dropping. Then, just to show her how much work she really needs, I take her free hand and force her own blade to the side of her neck.

She struggles, causing the blade to wobble near her throat, but she doesn’t let up. I disarm her, tossing the blade next to her other one and press her down into the ground with my body. Then, she twists until she’s on her back, glaring up at me.

“It will get easier. The pain,”

I tell her then.

“I don’t want it to.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t deserve it to lessen.”

“It won’t. I promise that, but existing with that pain... you get used to it.”

I can feel the muscles in her body go limp, so I release the grip I have on her wrists. Her jade eyes soften just the slightest and my heart skips a beat.

My hands cage her head as I lower to face her.

“Briar, even if you never think of me as anything more than a wasteful soul, just know I will still slay every last God for you. And before I can even wash their blood off of me, I will look into your eyes and confess to you again how much I love you.”

I swallow the nerves threatening to choke me.

Her soft, pink lips part. It’s an invitation.

I dip my face to hers and sigh as our mouths collide. Even though I take the lead, she still kisses me back. Her tongue meets mine as I dip between her teeth, grazing the inside of her mouth. She moans loudly and I breathe the sound in.

It fills me. Warms me. Relieves me.

And then she stabs me.

Right beneath my ribs.

I grunt as excruciating pain sears up my side and into my torso. I bring my hand to the wound as she yanks the dagger out to try to stop some of the bleeding. She uses this moment to slip out from beneath me and kicks me to my back. The impact blinds me with agony, cutting my breath off as if her foot just crushed my chest.

She stands over me, bending down so the tip of her blade can lift my chin.

Even now, she’s beautiful.

“I’m not weak.”

Her voice is as cold as steel.

“No.”

I grunt, desperate for a good breath of air.

“No, you’re not.”

She retreats, wiping my own blood off her blade with my jeans.

“Fix yourself,”

she demands.

I roll to my good side, then crawl to my hands and knees.

“What did I say last time you marked me, Angel?”

“Don’t be stupid. You have a mission in two days.”

“Sucks to be me, then. Doesn’t it?”

I mentally prepare myself to push to my feet, the pain excruciating.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll call it.”

With the wound in my side and my heart just as bloody, I stumble to the stairs.

“Lynx,”

she calls out, and I stop.

“Angel,”

I counter, using the wall to support me.

She stares at me, and I smile, knowing full well what’s going through her head.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’ll add that to the list.”

I swear she cringes, but this time she doesn’t stop me as I leave.