Page 51 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Angel

Before me lies a narrow hallway of stone, the same damp stone from my vision. Gore coats the walls and between each crevice. Despite the screaming I heard before, it’s quiet here. Just the incessant drips of water falling to the concrete floor.

I take a deep breath as I creep forward, following the tug inside my chest. It leads me to the second door on left of the hall.

“Lynx?”

I call out, tapping the barrier.

No answer, but my gut twists inside of me, urging me to get in there. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine myself on the other side of this door, willing it to happen and desperately hoping that I don’t find myself with a starving made-monster.

Only, when I open my eyes, I’m still right where I was on the wrong side of the door. Yanking on the handle, it barely even cracks open with the heavy lock hanging from the latch.

Shit, shit, shit!

I need a fucking key.

Panicking, I pace in the hallway, searching every inch of my brain for an idea on how to find the damn thing.

Creeping back up the stairs, I slip into the kitchen and use the Devil’s powers for something I never thought I would.

In seconds, I’m donning an ivory silk dress that drapes along the floor with regal length.

It hangs on my shoulders with the daintiest straps and the back plunging down just before it can reveal too much.

Atop my head, are pearls strewn into a golden crown like vines weaved through my braided hair.

I look every bit a Goddess on the hunt for her equal.

With my shoulders held back and my chin high, I stride through the palace with an air of belonging.

I hope to the Devil I look more confident than I feel because my heart is palpitating at a pace that could end a life.

Lucky for me, I don’t really have to worry about that part.

Now, if I were a key, where would I be?

I search for what feels like hours before I find myself at a hallway consisting of sleeping quarters.

For being such a large place, it’s awfully empty.

Quietly, I step into the first room I see.

The hearth is lit, the flame a steady flicker indicating that the fire was built not long ago.

There’s no indication of anyone in the room, not a sound or the feeling of someone present.

So, I inch further on soft feet.

Before the bed, on the same wall as the door, is a glossed wooden armoire.

It looms over me as I yank the doors open.

They swing effortlessly and without noise, revealing robes and dress clothes fit for...

well, for a God.

Further below are two shelves with folded fabrics and by the looks of it, undershorts. Crouching down, I sift through them.

Nothing.

Moving to the bed, I check the pillows and under the mattress. The beside table drawers and then finally the desk sitting beneath the window.

Just as I close the last drawer of the desk with no success, footsteps echo right outside the door.

Fuck!

I don’t have time to hide or do anything really, except put as much distance between me and the place I searched last. Quickly, gathering my wits, I throw myself against the bed and adjust myself into a sensual, but relaxed position right as the door is shoved open.

“Who do we have here?”

A golden glow envelops the God, turning his tanned skin a glittering bronze. It’s as if Aurelius has coerced the sun to cling to him at all times with the threat of being snuffed if disobeyed.

“Why, I’m quite offended, Aurelius.”

I feign a flirtatious smirk.

“I guess our one night didn’t compare to the centuries of women that have kept you company.”

A little smile plays across his face, his hazel eyes twinkling with conceit. He shrugs one shoulder and prowls towards me. Perhaps that glow is really just his arrogance. It wafts off of him in heavy waves, nearly drowning me.

“Please accept my apologies…”

“Nemesis.”

I decide, righting myself to my feet.

He quirks a brow.

“Nemesis. I tend to remember faces and names fairly well, but yours must have just slipped my mind.”

With slow, tantalizing steps, he circles me. Only stopping when we come face to face. Lowering his mouth to my ear, he whispers.

“I guess you’ll just have to spark my memory.”

Despite the bile creeping up the back of my throat, I force a soft, feminine giggle.

“I guess I will.”

With each step forward, he forces me backwards towards his enormous bed until I’m trapped between it and him. His hand cups one side of my neck while his lips peruse the other. I use this very opportunity to touch him right back.

First his arms, my fingers tracing over each muscle. Then, I take my time untying the string that threads his red, leather vest together. It falls to the floor in a light thud while his lips trail down the crook of my shoulder.

Every bit of his mouth against my skin feels slimy, horrible, and just terribly wrong. Yet, I let it continue.

“Tell me, Nemesis, did you enjoy my touch just as much as you do now?”

He mumbles against my pebbled flesh assuming the goosebumps are my body’s way of expressing pleasure when really, it’s absolute disgust. Like how an arachnophobe finds a spider crawling down the length of their arm. Tingles light up along the back of your neck and spread across your body.

I nod my response. At this moment, my mouth is too untrustworthy to speak anything other than my true feelings towards this monster. So, instead, I grant him a low mmmmm.

It seems to satisfy him enough. Perhaps too much because his pace begins to pick up. He rips off his white shirt, the buttons popping from the force and grabs both sides of my face. Angling my head up towards his, he looks into my eyes.

“Stunning. It’s such a mystery how I managed to forget eyes like these.”

Without waiting for a response, he crushes his lips to mine and demands entry. Rage consumes every part of my being, and it takes all the effort I have to stop myself from shoving him off of me.

I remind myself that this is exactly what I had in mind. I am leading, and he’s only falling for my trap, but that knowledge doesn’t tamper the way my heart beats twice its normal pace.

Taking a lungful of air, I will the beating in my chest to simmer as so I don’t give myself away.

Aurelius grips the skirt of my dress and bunches it up to my hip. His breath now hot and heavy while his kisses grow more aggressive.

I slip my trembling hand in his pocket, feeling for the key and only finding the bulge of his unimpressive cock. In response, he pushes his hips forward and grinds against my leg while his fingers crawl towards my center.

Panic consumes me the closer he finds himself to the apex of my thighs and I all but dig my fingernails into his wrist. He mustn’t notice because it does nothing to stop him.

Unable to search his other pocket without being obvious, I push against his chest instead, breaking the kiss. I force myself to focus, to push past the perspiration beginning to dampen my skin and feign a confidence I wish I truly felt.

“You must really not remember.”

I glower at him.

Hazel eyes, glazed and greedy, drink me in. I’m not sure what he finds, perhaps his idea of a scorned lover ready to prove herself. Either way, I continue to tell myself it’s all in the plan.

“Then make me remember,”

he growls, dipping in and biting the lobe of my ear.

I shove at him, my hands involuntarily committing the biggest betrayal. It causes him to stumble back a few steps. There’s a look of confusion that colors his face until I force myself to smirk.

“Strip,”

I tell him.

He rears his head and scoffs.

“I said strip.”

“I know what’s happened. You’ve mistaken me for my brother.”

He chuckles, combing a hand through his hair, his lustful haze dropping to a simmer.

Thinking quickly, I shrug.

“What if I have? You’re here now, aren’t you?”

A slow grin stretches his tanned face. I don’t need to say another word. He answers me by unbuttoning his brown pants, shoving them to his feet leaving himself bare.

“Step up to the bed,”

I demand and watch him do just that.

“Face the bedpost.”

He hesitates a minute but reluctantly obeys my impromptu demands. With the string from his vest, I grab his arms and wrap them around the post, tying his wrists together.

“What—”

I pinch his ass, forcing an emasculated yelp from the God. Balling up his undershorts, I stuff them into his mouth and whisper in his ear.

“If you’re a really good boy, you’ll get a special treat.”

A shiver rolls over him, the tiny hairs on his flesh rising like his cock.

“Now, stand there until I say otherwise.”

He nods and emits a muffled agreement while I take slow, quiet steps towards the pants he dropped on the floor. A boldness begins to resurrect at his excitement. My plan coming to a close end. Reaching down, I search the other pocket and sure enough, a golden key awaits.

Turning towards the door, I begin to make my escape, but a weight on my chest sits heavy and loud.

Just go.

Aurelius stands tied to the bedpost, gagged and trapped with no way to come after me. It gives me plenty of time to grab Lynx and run, but...

I find myself at his back again and a dagger in my hand. With the other, I drag my fingertips down his spine just light enough to tickle. He trembles in response.

“Aurelius? Do you think you’ve been a good boy?” I ask.

He nods and groans simultaneously.

Reaching around I find his hardened cock and wrap my fist around it. I don’t miss the way he nearly sags in relief.

“Do you think you deserve your treat?”

Again, he nods.

With one quick, swift movement, I sever the appendage in my hand from his body. A terrible, pain-filled scream erupts from the God as blood gushes like an untamed water hose. It pools at his feet and soaks the hem of my dress.

I leave him there with his bloodied, unwanted cock tossed on the bed and his tears as his only company.

Adrenaline races through every vein in my body. The pure energy causes my hands to tremble as I unlock the dungeon door. A few times, the key nearly drops from my slippery hands, but when I manage, I find my demon cradled and shaking in a crimson puddle. He doesn’t move apart from the violent shivers as if he’s on the brink of death.

“Lynx?”

His name breaks in my throat.

His eyes lie open fixated on the wall before him. Every bit of inked skin is mutilated and split open. The blood that covers his back is such a mess that you can’t see where one wound starts and the other ends. The brutality glaring back at me causes my stomach to roil and my blood to heat.

Yet, I continue taking inventory of each and every bit of torture he’s endured. Even the blood that coats the back of his naked thighs. It’s then that the sob I was holding in rips free as my heart shatters at the sight of the man I love so broken and defeated.

I kneel by his side, brushing the dark plastered bangs from his forehead.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Unlocking his shackles, I tuck myself beneath one of his arms as gently as I can and guide him to his feet. It takes every bit of effort we both possess to climb the stairs out of that dungeon and hope to the Devil that no one is waiting on the other side of that door.

The moment we step foot onto the kitchen floor, we’re falling into the abyss at last.

Our landing at Galsip Falls is brash, causing me to stumble. I wince as I watch Lynx fall to his hands and knees, the pain visibly coursing through him with the impact. Reaching for him, I try to bring him to his feet, but he doesn’t budge.

“Come on, stand,” I plead.

His head drops between his shaking shoulders. There are no words that I can say in this moment that would be worthy of speaking aloud. Nothing will take away the suffering he’s endured, nothing will lighten the darkness suffocating his heart.

Instead, I drop to my knees with him, resting my forehead along his shoulder. He winces with the contact, but not out of agony.

“I’m so sorry, Lynx. I’m so sorry.”

Finally, after several long heartbeats, navy blue eyes as wet as the sea find me. Those eyes, rimmed in red and so heartbreakingly devastated.

His lips quiver as if the words he wishes to tell me sit stuck on his tongue. Patiently, I wait for him, caressing the color splashed across his battered cheek. It only elicits tears to fall past his lower lashes.

I drop even deeper onto the floor of the cave, crossing my legs and urging him to rest. To lay his head on my lap and he gratefully accepts. There, I drag my fingers through his sweaty hair as he sobs into my thighs. His body curls in on itself and with a death grip, he clings to me as his wails echo between the stone walls.

His body doesn’t seem to be healing on its own, perhaps he’s too weak to draw from Lucifer’s powers. So, I do it for him. Trailing my palm over his naked body, I stop over each and every wound. Though he physically seems to mend, his soul remains fractured.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere more comfortable and find you some clothes,” I murmur.