Page 36 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)

Chapter 35

Azazel

They ran at him, dozens at a time. But it was useless; his power was no longer confined to the form he’d been trapped in. He was in pebbles rolling along the floor, the frozen moisture clinging to the walls. He was the very air they sucked into their dead lungs. He thought it, and they dropped, their limbs returning to the earth, drained of all essence.

It was his to control.

Azazel scanned the room, seeking their puppet master. She wasn’t among them. Of course not .

Several more creatures rushed forward, and he turned his gaze on them, dissolving them to dust. More came; they were mindless and would continue until he found their leader.

A soft moan sounded from the dais at the center of the room, stealing his focus.

He destroyed a dozen more, crossing the space in a blink, and lifted Rebecca gingerly into his arms, the chains at her arms and legs dissolving to nothing.

Her essence was so weak; a thread of life barely clung to her.

He bit into his arm, tearing away flesh, and held it over her mouth. “Drink, Light.” He rested his bleeding arm against her lips. The wound began to close, and he lengthened one nail, slicing it open.

She twitched under his wrist, but her skin was warming .

Hang on, Light.

He pressed down, forcing essence into her too-thin frame.

Rebecca swallowed, drinking his life force down. Her eyelids fluttered, wounds along her abdomen and chest sealing closed. Ten creatures charged him, and Azazel erased them with half a thought. They were the worst army she could have sent after him—soulless creatures with no will of their own.

Only free will could stand against his might. Only the ability to choose was a weapon against one such as him. And now that he had damned himself for all eternity, he would stop at nothing to keep her alive for however long her body would allow it.

Rebecca sucked in a sharp breath, coughing violently.

Spying an aged, cracked box in the room’s corner, he scooped it up, cradling Rebecca against his chest, and darted out of the cave.

Behind him, walls crumbled in on themselves, blocking the creature's path and crushing any who dared to follow.

Azazel broke free, soaring into the night, and chased the moon across the sky. Rebecca twisted in his arm, squirming to get closer to him as he flew.

The sun greeted them when he touched down on a thick blanket of snow outside a four-story mansion on a sprawling countryside estate. It peeked over the horizon, brimming along a white landscape cascading off sparkling treetops.

He moved to the front door, thinking of the pattern to unlock it, and it clicked twice before swinging wide. A blaring alarm made Rebecca twitch in his embrace, and he silenced it with a thought. He carried her up the stairs, into the room painted in shades of pink, and laid her gently on a multi-colored throw.

Setting the box down in the room's corner, Azazel returned to her side, slicing his wrist once more. Lifting his arm to her lips, he brushed a curl back from her battered face. You must drink it, Light.

Her brows furrowed in that lovely way they did when she was prepared to argue, but her eyes never opened, and her throat moved as she swallowed more of his blood. When the cut sealed, he wiped the last drops of golden blood from her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to them.

“Gabriel,” she breathed.

Rebecca’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink in the warm room, and her skin was already beginning to look brighter. Her eyes were sealed, dark lashes pinned together, and a smile quirked the edge of his mouth.

She dreamed of him.

His chest seized at the thought. It wasn’t him ; she dreamed of the seraph who had selflessly protected her. The one who gave her as many chances at life as her father’s twisted magic would allow, even knowing it meant he would not have her by his side.

Some desperate part of him had always hoped—believed—he could be that seraph again, fall at his father’s feet and beg for forgiveness for his place in Alaxia.

That hope was gone now. He’d forever sealed his fate when he accepted his place as a ruler of Primoria, squarely setting himself against his father in the coming war. And with his and Mahazael’s change in allegiance, the war was all but imminent.

His only hope now was to keep Rebecca alive. She had to survive; to do that, she must awaken her seraph side.