Seraphina's tears cut through the blood spattered on her cheeks. "Lu-Lucian," she whimpers, each word shredded by pain. "It hurts. Gods, it hurts. Make it stop,please... please..."
Her pain hits me like a fucking semi-truck, our bond screaming with phantom agony. I swallow hard against the rising tide of rage and bile.
I'm going to destroy Morgan. Viciously. Creatively. With her own fucking curse.
I try again—my hands wrap around the first nail, andholy motherfucking hell—the blessed iron sears through my charred flesh like the devil's kiss. I rip away with a roar that rattles the stones, leaving strips of skin behind.
Rage drowns my vision.Enough of this bullshit.I blur toward Morgan, fangs bared and ready to paint the walls with her blood—
Agony nukes myskull. I crash to the ground, convulsing as phantom knives fillet my brain. Morgan's boots fill my view, her hand outstretched like the Grim Reaper's bony finger.
"Let's make a trade, hmm?" Her voice slices through the mind-melting pain. Blood drips from my nose and ears as she cranks up the cerebral pressure. "Soul Stone for your feathered fuck-toy. Going once..."
Emily lunges like an avenging witch on a rampage, but Morgan just flicks her other hand with the casual disdain of swatting a fly. Emily crashes to her knees, face contorting in the same brain-melting agony that's turning my skull into a blender party.
"YES!" The word shreds my throat, tasting of desperation and bile. "Fucking... deal... just...STOP!"
"And where's therealRhyland? That cheap knockoff upstairs might fool the queen bee, but honey, I wrote the book on dark energy." She twists her mental knife deeper with the casual ease of adjusting her lipstick, and my gray matter feels like dollar store jello.
"Fuck... I don't know!"
"Lying makes me cranky. Going twice..."
"Fine! Shit... he's in Ásgard—Zephyria... wherever the fuck!" The pain's got me tap-dancing on consciousness's edge.
"Hmm..." Her voice carries all the warmth of a glacier. "Time to summon myself a God."
The pressure vanishes, abandoning me on cold stone. My head jackhammers like I tongue-fucked a light socket.
Morgan snaps her fingers. "Stone. Now."
I drag myself up, muscles twitching. "Her first, bitch."
Eye roll. Wrist flick. The chains dissolve into greasy mist, their malevolent magic evaporating.
I blur to Phina, gripping the first nail, slick with her blood.
Please don't let this hurt, please...
I wrench it free with a wet, tearing sound that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Phina screams, raw and broken, her wing spasming. Blood gushes from the gaping hole, staining white feathers.
"I'm sorry, I'm so fuckingsorry," I choke out, reaching for the next spike. It comes free with a sickening squelch, and Phina convulses, a wail of pure agony ripping from her throat. Her pain slams into me like a battering ram, our bond throbbing with echoes of torture.
The last nail is buried in the delicate joint where wing meets shoulder blade.
Forgive me, Cupcake.
I clench my jaw and pull, feeling tendon and muscle tear. Phina's shriek will be seared into my memory for eternity. She collapses against me, and I catch her, holding her tight as her mangled wings drape across the floor, painting abstract horrors in scarlet.
"I've got you, baby girl." I press my forehead to hers, our tears mingling with her blood. "I'm here. I'm here." Her whimpers vibrate through my chest, dark magic poisoning her light.
Morgan's going to die for this. Screaming. Pleading. Choking on her own fucking hubris.
"Deals a deal." Morgan's voice cracks like a whip. "Cough it up."
I clutch Seraphina to my chest, the need to heal her clawing at my insides. I raise my wrist to my fangs, ready to tear into my own flesh, to give her my blood, my strength—
Invisible chains lock me in place, freezing me mid-motion. "Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, lover boy." Morgan's finger wags like a metronome of mockery. "Payment first. Then you can play doctor with your angel."
