Page 197 of Ravaged Soul

That flash of brokenness in his honeyed shards emerges again. I take the blade then adjust my grip, turning to face the half-scrambling man who dared to lock me in a cage. Just like Gracie. Just like Gunnar. Just like all of us.

Gael hisses and kicks a foot out, colliding with my stomach. I groan at the impact but push onwards, prising his legs apart soI can straddle his wide, flat stomach. He halts at the twinkling blade hovering a breath from his throat.

“You took my freedom.” I search his face for the reward of his terror. “You took my choice. My life. My voice. You took it all and more from all the others who did not escape.”

“Ember—”

“No. You don’t get to call me that.”

“Perhaps we can?—”

I cut off his bargaining with one fell swoop to the throat. Ear to ear. Easier than slicing melting butter left out in the sun. His skin parts beneath the deadly sharp blade without a single complaint from my muscles.

Bone scrapes against the knife, Gael’s throat resembling a comical smiley face peppered with muscle and veins. Copper-scented death sprays over me, a torrential misting that hits every bit of skin in range. Yet I don’t balk at the dousing.

Because I’m not 768.

I’m not enjoying it.

I’m Ember… and I’m fuckingloving it.

The knife clatters beside me as I relish in the sight of Antonio Gael choking on his own lifeblood. He spits and gargles, those hateful yellow eyes filled with existential dread. I’m an angel of death taking every last second of consciousness from him for my own glee.

All I offer is his own words back to him.

“There’s no deal left to be struck. I will show you no mercy.”

Caught beneath me, Gael suffocates in a puddle of his own blood, unable to strike any more deals or bargains. Only his entrance through the gates of hell.

As his gaze grows glassy, I let myself slide sideways through sticky warmth. His blood trickles over my mouth, neck and chest as I scoot my aching body up against the nearby wall to stop myself from collapsing.

“Better?” I ask the sullen shadow.

Wearing nothing but pain and misery, Gunnar lowers his head. “Yes.”

“Then you can go ahead and help your brother. There’s a tracker stitched into his waistband. I activated it before we came out. Backup will be here any moment now.”

“A… tracker?” Gunnar’s eyes widen.

“Did you really think we were going to let you take him?”

He stares. Blinks. Falters.

“Well, yes.”

Pulling my sleeve cuff down, I wipe it over my eyes to clear the layer of blood.

“Gunnar… You have a lot to learn about family. We never leave anyone behind. Not even those who lie or take the wrong path. We forgive.We forget.”

His eyes fill with tears, that tiny crack in his armour growing to a full-blown mountain crevasse. I’ve broken the famous Hunter. At last. All it took was showing him what he’ll never have.

A team.

A fucking family.

And together, a future.

When the restaurant’s windows collapse inwards, I find the energy to tilt my head to watch the broad shoulders of a violently vengeful angel storming inside. Olive malachites seek me out, blowing wide as he takes in the scene all around.