Page 15 of Hunted By Fear

What the hell?

Is that Ruin?

Why did they bring the angel to literal Hell?

“Why is he here?” I ask even before they reach me, unable to stop myself.

“I’m her guardian,” he snaps, and I feel my eyes widen in shock. Ruin has a backbone? When the fuck did that happen?

“A fantastic one at that, considering you're all here,” I snap back, opening my arms to gesture around me.

His eyes narrow, but he remains quiet, just like I knew he would.

I have nothing against Ruin, not really. Once, we had been somewhat close, prior to the fall, but even then, he was a pushover. Which is why I assume he remained in Heaven, unlike the rest of us.

Ruin stops, his toe stopping at the edge of the river since angels are unable to enter without my approval, the reason Asta came to me in the first place. The others could easily cross the river, as this is their domain, yet they remain behind as well.

Well, all but Kai, who doesn’t even spare them a glance as he not only crosses the river but heads toward the castle.

Prick has no idea where he’s going, but I make no move to stop him as I finally catch sight of the girl who has them all scrambling to save her.

The girl who made them care.

I move across the water with ease, another perk of owning the domain and death itself.

“So this is Rome’s mortal?” I ask, knowing damn well at least one of them will have an issue with it.

Bast’s human form drops away in the blink of an eye, his low growl vibrating in the air around us.

Talian isn’t holding himself much better. His human form also falls away, but he finds a way to swallow down his growl, though I’m not convinced he didn’t swallow his tongue to do so.

Asta’s only tell is the set of his jaw. He’s always cold, but right now it looks as if his jaw were carved from granite. I bet if I listened really hard, I could hear his teeth grind together.

How fun! This might be the most entertainment I’ve had in… Well, let's not count years, that’s depressing—a very long time.

I can feel Ruin’s eyes as they bore into the side of my head, and I can’t stop the smile that splits my lips as I turn to face him once again.

Four demons and two angels.

Who is this mortal?

I take a moment to look closer.

She’s small, pressed against Ruin’s chest, and for a moment, I wonder if maybe she isn’t a woman at all but a girl. One look at her face tells me she’s well past puberty, though still young compared to any of us.

The mortal lifespan is such a fickle thing, here and gone in the blink of an eye, really. It’s almost tragic, hauntingly beautiful, much like she is.

Her hair is white, falling in long free waves over Ruin's arm; her roots are dark, letting me know that’s not its natural color. The mortals love to play God, changing everything they can.

I love it.

She’s wearing shorts and a tank top, both dark gray, and while they aren’t form-fitting, there's still enough to see the curve of her chest and the hips—pajamas if I had to guess. Her skin is ‌pale white, which suggests she doesn’t spend much time outdoors. Not that I’m one to judge, though I imagine if I ever did go topside again, I would spend most of my time enjoying the outdoors, preferably away from people. I also don’t have a psycho angel stalking me across states, though.

She’s beautiful, but that doesn't make her special; millions, if not billions, of mortals are just as beautiful, if not even more so than she is.

So what makes her special?

I guess I have plenty of time to find out.