Since being inside my head with all my chaotic thoughts won’t be helpful, I’ll slide back a bit for you and let you see what happens next properly, the same way you were getting Harlow and Carina’s stories. From their perspective but less direct than how I’ve been speaking to you.
“What thefuckdo you think you’re doing?”
That voice.
It’s one of literal nightmares. Of old hopes and dreams. Of broken promises and nightmares.
It’s one belonging to a demon who began as an angel.
In both lives, he turned his back on me.
In both lives, he broke my heart and made myself live by a certain vow: to never trust another.
One spell, and I can make myself disappear from sight. Another, and I can transport myself to anywhere in the world and ensure he never finds me again.
Yet, I remain corporeal but face the street below. Wind shifts as the burst from his wings takes him from the sky to the gravel roof, his feet making a light thudding with his landing.
Wings I know to be bat-like and leathery and insanely smooth are a result of when his magnificent white feathers burned from his fall from Heaven to Hell, alongside his master, the Devil.
Petting his feathers once entertained me for hours, but when first regarding his demon wings, I fell more in love since they spoke to a Darker side of me.
A side that no longer exists and can never again, especially with the current climate of war.
My spine tingles in that way he’s always been able to pull from me. It’s a sensation I’ve gone a long time without, but now it feels like receiving a hug from an old friend. Or coming home. My body’s always known him, and no matter what realm or century, it could never forget him either.
“Isaid, what the fuck are you doing, Freya?”
Steps scrape over the gravel—each one thudding through my insides. He’ll want me to turn, to face him, but doing so will undo a century of focus.
He betrayed you,I remind myself.
“Freya,” he snaps, but it’s nothing how he used to speak to me. This time, it’s like I’m one of his many minions—the Lower Demons—that he controls.
“Working. Same as you. Return to your master in Hell, report what you need to, and then kindly go fuck yourself and never seek me out again.”
All remains silent. Demons, if they choose to, can fly quietly. Ideally, he listened and left me alone.
And then, between the honks of vehicles below, the ground scrapes again. The shadow grows and a burst of wind encompasses me as wide wings cover my vision. And then feet. Legs with a body attached to it. Black jeans and nothing but abs and tattoos for miles as he lands on the roof in front of me, poised on the very edge as an immortal soulless being. No heart, just wrapped in a body created of sin, made for sin.
My gaze drops to the ground without looking past his waist.
His steps approach, erasing the two feet of distance. We both know I’m capable of throwing up a barrier that’ll toss his ass so far into the air, he’ll be swallowing stars. Maybe he can visit his old haunt of Heaven—and that’s in an entire other realm.
But I don’t. I don’t because he’s always held some kind of power over me. No matter the lies and betrayals, my magick refuses to bring harm to him.
Hecate, you suck.
A hand snaps beneath my chin and forces my head up, so I quickly slam my eyes shut before meeting the inky black ones that starred in both my dreams and nightmares for a long time.
Hecate made me immortal, but if there’s one being on Earth who’s always had the ability to kill me without raising a hand, it’s this one. Looking into his eyes are a sure way of returning to the past and abolishing everything I’ve been fighting for when he drags me down.
Maybe I’ll kill him first.
“Open your damn eyes.”
“Fuck off.”
His fingers squeeze tighter, a never-ending pinch until I’m compelled either by my body’s need for relief or his deep rumbling voice. My eyes clash with ones with the power to obliterate me.
