Page 37 of Soul Bound (Cursed Descent (MistHallow Academy) #2)

37

MATILDA

The training room feels smaller today, like the walls are pressing in with each surge of power. I’m still trying to come to terms with the idea that Luc would’ve killed me, devoured my soul and sent me packing straight to Hell while we fucked if I hadn’t been protected by the Praxian force. It makes me squirm when I wonder how many times he has done that with other women. I need to ask him, but the look Morrigan gives me tells me that now isn’t the time for that. But I can’t get it out of my mind. It was like how I imagine a banana feels when you peel back its skin. Painful, agonising even. If it weren’t for the vast pleasure I was experiencing from him, the fucking, his massive demon cock with those little nodules on it that rub in all the right places, I would’ve crawled up into a ball and cried.

“Matilda! Where is your mind?” Morrigan snaps, causing Chaos to jump in the air and swing from one of the climbing ropes dangling from the ceiling.

“I’m here.” Sweat trickles down my neck as I focus on the array before me. Practice weapons, crystals, and books were arranged in a complex pattern Morrigan designed. They hover steadily enough until I try to weave them into the prescribed formation. That’s when everything goes sideways. Literally.

“Careful,” Morrigan warns from her position near the door. She’s been edging further back all morning, though she tries to hide it. “Remember, precision over power.”

Easy for her to say. Ever since killing Chris, my magick feels like a live wire under my skin, exposed and unpredictable. The objects shake as I attempt to guide them through the pattern. The smallest crystal spins off course, and suddenly they’re all moving, a chaotic dance of potentially deadly projectiles.

“Damn it!” I throw up my hands, trying to freeze everything in place. The items stop, but the force of it sends a tremor through the room. New cracks appear in the already splintered training dummy. That’s the third one today.

The lights flicker ominously. They’ve been doing that more and more lately, especially when I lose control. Even MistHallow’s heavily warded training rooms aren’t quite equipped for whatever’s happening to me.

“Perhaps we should try something else,” Morrigan sighs, but the door slams open with enough force to leave yet another dent in the wall.

Vex bursts in, his aura fractured by obvious urgency. Luc and Draven are right behind him with all three of them radiating tension. The sudden interruption shatters my concentration. Everything crashes down around me, and the power inside me roils in response in a wave of pure energy that rolls out like a shockwave.

Luc and Draven both stumble back, their eyes widening as their own powers flare defensively. The air grows thick with competing energies. My wild, untamed magick claws its way to the brothers against the dark undercurrent of their Hell powers. They lower their defences, and a wave of pleasure washes over me. Not sexual in nature this time, just pure happiness that the Praxian is getting what it wants.

More power.

“We need to talk,” Vex says, then falters as he takes in the destruction around me. “What’s happening here?”

“Training,” I manage through gritted teeth, trying to pull my power back in. It fights me, wrapping around the Demons, drawn to their darkness. The room’s remaining practice weapons rise from the floor, completely against my will.

“Tilly,” Luc says carefully, his voice tight with restraint. He wants another go, and I do too. I want to pounce on him and have him suck on my soul, knowing it can’t kill me.

The air suddenly changes. The pressure drops so fast my ears pop, and static electricity sizzles across my skin. Golden light blazes through the room, momentarily blinding us.

I hear Draven curse, raw and vicious. When my vision clears, I understand why. A man stands in the centre of the room, massive white-feathered wings spreading behind him, casting strange shadows on the walls.

My mouth drops open as I take in the eye-wateringly handsome man. He is about seven feet tall with an enormous wingspan, short black hair and the brightest blue eyes that glow with an ethereal shine, and his expression of pure arrogance and condescension makes me gulp. He has a gigantic sword of light that I can’t seem to take my eyes off. My mouth drops open as the realisation hits me.

He is an Angel.

Draven moves with aggressive speed, placing himself between me and the Angel. His Hell power rises like a dark tide, but the Angel merely regards him with those ancient, luminous eyes. I move to the side, wanting to look some more at this creature that has landed in the training room.

“Stand down, shithead,” the Angel’s voice resonates with multiple harmonics. “Or shall we revisit our last encounter? You know, the one where you failed to remove my head from my shoulders.”

“Give me another try, you sanctimonious cunt.”

“Ooh, ouch. I see your time here on Earth hasn’t dulled that sharp tongue. Maybe I should cut it out of your head and display it in the trophy hall in the Highest Kingdom.”

“How about you try, and you will see that three years has made me a hell of a lot faster and stronger. Pardon the pun.”

I stare at them trash-talking each other like I’m at a tennis match. What the hell is this about? I’m deadly curious.

“I am aeons old, you little prick. I can smash you with my bare hand.”

Luc steps up to his brother’s side, earning himself a glare from the Angel.

“Luc, Prince of Hell. Are you anything like your namesake? I took great delight in adding my collective boot to his fall from grace.”

“Fucker,” Luc spits out. “Angel scum. Get the fuck out of here, before we both take you down.”

The Angel narrows his eyes and shifts his gaze to me, and suddenly, I understand what it means to be truly seen. It’s like he’s looking straight through flesh and bone to something deeper, straight to my soul.

“The Praxian force grows stronger in you,” he states, moving closer.

“Vazna.” Draven sends out a warning shot of death magick that stops the Angel in his tracks… for all of two seconds.

“You have grown stronger, pipsqueak,” he murmurs. “But I’m not here for a fight. I’m here for her.”

My power responds to his voice, reaching out like a curious child.

He moves in closer. I feel like a bug under a microscope. “It recognises its own kind.”

“What do you mean?” I croak, even as my magick dances between the Demons’ darkness and Vazna’s light, equally drawn to both.

“Your power, girl, is divine in origin.” Vazna’s wings shift, sending cascades of light across the walls as he speaks, just to me. Everything else falls away. “When Lucifer fell, when Heaven’s gates cracked open and Hell’s fires reached upward, something else fell to Earth. A splinter of celestial power, primordial and undefined. It took root in the ground, adapted, evolved from the earth around it. Became something new entirely.”

I feel Luc and Draven tense beside me, and Vex moves stealthily forward. I wonder where Morrigan is for all of a second before Vex speaks.

“The Praxian magick is divine.”

“More than that.” Vazna’s eyes never leave mine. My breath deepens. There is a chemistry between us that is hard to deny, but it’s not sexual or even remotely romantic. It’s primal. Feral, even. “This is what happens when divine power learns to survive on Earth. It carries the essence of both Heaven and Hell with it, which is why it can either work with Hellish power or...” he pauses, looking pointedly at my connection to the demons’ power, “choose to devour it completely. It is stronger than all magick. It is the apex, and you, my dear, are in danger of being ripped apart by it cell by cell until there is nothing left of your body or soul.”

This knowledge floods my mind, and I stagger back, my hand over my heart. It is thumping so wildly that it feels like it will break free. This is why I survived Luc’s attempt to consume my soul. Why my power is reaching for both light and darkness right now. Why it feels so...hungry. It is in the presence of its source, but it is far more powerful than anything any side has come across.

“So what exactly are you saying?” I demand, trying to keep my voice steady as my power ebbs and flows between the celestial creatures in the room. “That I’m some kind of divine accident?”

“Accident? No. You’re the daughter of Anu. The Earth-Mother knew exactly what she was doing when she merged her essence with this fallen celestial power. She saw its potential, its ability to transcend the boundaries between Heaven and Hell. The Praxian force isn’t just divine power corrupted by Earth; it’s divine power elevated by it.”

“Anu created something entirely new,” Vazna says. “A power that could rival both Heaven and Hell because it understands both. And you, as her daughter, are its mistress. Or you would be, if you uncursed it from the ground.”

“Are you here to tell us not to do it?” Draven growls.

Vazna’s eyes gleam, but he ignores Draven. “You feel it, don’t you, girl? The hunger. The way it reaches for power, any power. The way it grew stronger after each encounter.”

My mind flashes to killing Chris and to the sex with Luc, to the way my power had not just defended against his attempt to devour my soul but had tried to consume his power in return. “It’s getting stronger.”

“Of course it is. You’re coming into your birthright, wielding a force that predates the split between Heaven and Hell. But power like this needs guidance. Our soldier has been watching over this magick for centuries, waiting. Watching.” Vazna’s wings shift restlessly.

“Laurent,” Vex states, and I blink. “That’s why you’re here. You’re not just delivering a warning, are you?”

“No. I’m here to take back what shouldn’t be, what she couldn’t.”

“Like fucking hell you are,” Draven snarls, positioning himself directly in front of me.

“The power doesn’t belong in this realm,” Vazna’s voice hardens, all pretence of civility dropping away. “It belongs in Heaven, where it can be properly contained.”

“Properly contained?” I laugh, and the sound has an edge that makes Vazna pause. “You mean controlled. Used. You’re not here to help, you’re here to take what you think belongs to you.”

The Angel’s wings flare wider, filling the room with harsh light. “What I think? That power was never meant to exist outside Heaven’s walls. Your mother may have merged with it, may have created something new, but that doesn’t make it right. That doesn’t make it safe.”

“Safe?” A new voice cuts through the tension. Morrigan stands in the doorway, and beside her is Blackthorn, as I’ve never seen him before. The vampire’s presence seems to draw the shadows closer, his ancient power rolling through the room like dark water. “Since when has any power worth having been safe?”

Vazna’s sword materialises fully in his hand, blazing with celestial fire. “Stay out of this. It doesn’t concern you.”

“You are trespassing and threatening my students.” Blackthorn’s smile is icy and dangerous.

The Angel moves with blinding speed, but Draven and Luc are faster, their Hell-power creating a barrier between us. The Praxian power swells up, and this time, I don’t try to contain it. It reaches out, hungry and wild, drawing strength from all the magick around me. The brothers, Vex, Blackthorn, Morrigan and Vazna, generate the magick. They power it to levels I’ve never felt before. The curse is cracking, but the ancient binding reins it in, holding it on its leash until we can perform the correct rites to release it.

I know without any doubt now that we have to uncurse it.

“You feel that?” I ask Vazna as my power rises. “It doesn’t want to go back. It’s evolved beyond Heaven’s sterile halls. You can’t contain it. You can’t have it.”

“Then I’ll take it by force.” Vazna’s wings spread wide, his true, ethereal form bleeding through his human facade. The training room groans under the pressure of his unleashed power.

Draven moves first, death magick condensing into razor-sharp blades that sing through the air. Vazna deflects them with his wings, each feather suddenly rigid as steel, but Luc is already there, Hellfire forming chains that try to snare the angel’s legs.

Vazna laughs, the sound shattering the remaining windows. “You think Hellish parlour tricks can bind me?” He brings his sword down in an arc of pure light, cutting through Luc’s chains like they’re paper. The floor where the blade touches turns to ash.

Vex throws a hex at him, but he deflects it, sending it crashing into the wall behind me.

Blackthorn’s ancient vampire-mage magick wraps around the Angel like thorny vines. For a moment, Vazna’s light dims, caught in the vampire’s primordial power. But then his wings snap out with devastating force, breaking the bonds.

“Enough games,” Vazna snarls, his voice resonating on multiple frequencies. Light explodes from him in a catastrophic wave.

But Morrigan is ready. Her shield spell catches the blast, redirecting it upward through the ceiling. She follows it with a barrage of spells that explode around Vazna like magickal grenades, disrupting his celestial energy.

The Angel staggers, but only for a moment. His sword moves in impossible patterns, creating sigils in the air that begin to drain the magick from the room. Draven and Luc’s powers flicker, Blackthorn hisses as his magick starts to fade, Vex curses as the runes on his chest burn brightly but then die down, and Morrigan’s spells sputter out.

But I just stand there.

I feel every collision of power, every blast of energy. The Praxian force inside me devours it all. I’m a black hole, drawing in everything around me, transforming it into something new.

Vazna turns to me, his eyes widening as he finally realises what’s happening. His power is being consumed, transformed, made into something else entirely. Something that belongs to neither Heaven nor Hell.

It belongs to me. “Leave. This power is far beyond Heaven’s reach now.”

To my surprise, the Angel stumbles back, his wings stretching wide as he takes flight and vanishes in a blast of white hot energy. “This isn’t over. Heaven will not allow this abomination to continue. We will return.” His voice echoes around what is left of the training room, and I stagger as the Praxian pumps through my veins before settling back down, sated and seemingly happy for the time being.

But that won’t last. It won’t be happy until it is free.