Chapter 83 Chapter 83
Chapter 83 Chapter 83
⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧ Elena ⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧
The mansion feels like a fucking tomb, every creak of the floorboards echoing in my skull like accusations. I've been pacing this goddamn living room for what feels like hours, my nails bitten to bloody stubs, heart slamming against my ribs like it is trying to escape. Adrianna is gone—snatched by some winged bastard—and Apollo and Levi are off playing bounty-hunter in whatever hellhole they dragged that fight to. I am losing it, rage boiling in my veins, visions of ripping feathers from some arch-angel's back flashing hot and violent. If I do not hear something soon, I will murder the next thing that moves, supernatural or not. My hands shake as I clutch the edge of the couch, whispering curses under my breath, the soul bond tugging at me like a frayed wire, faint echoes of fury and lust from the guys but nothing clear. It is driving me insane.
Then—a noise. A sharp crackle from the other room, like thunder ripping through air. My pulse spikes, fear and hope twisting into a knot in my gut. I bolt upright, feet pounding the carpet as I run toward the sound, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The door to the guest room flies open under my shove, and there—fuck, there he is. Levi, materializing in a swirl of dark smoke, his massive arms cradling Adrianna's limp form against his chest. Her head lolls against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, but she is here. Alive. Home.
“Adrianna!”
The scream tears from my throat as I launch myself across the room, slamming onto the bed where Levi is already laying her down gently. I bury my face into her stomach, the soft give of her body under my cheek grounding me as sobs rip out, hot and uncontrollable. Tears soak through her shirt, my arms wrapping around her waist like a vice, refusing to let go. She smells like smoke and stone, faint traces of incense clinging to her skin, but it is her—my Adrianna, safe from whatever angelic nightmare held her.
Levi's voice rumbles low, cautious, like he is handling fragile glass.
“Adrianna, do you need anything? Water? Food? I can grab it before I head back.”
His eyes flick to me then back to Adrianna, protective hellfire dimmed to a watchful glow, but I barely register him. All I feel is her warmth seeping into me, the rise and fall of her breathing syncing with my hiccuping cries.
“No,” Adrianna murmurs, her voice weak but steady, hand lifting to brush Levi's arm. “Go. We are good. Apollo needs you.”
The air shimmers, and he is gone in a blink, leaving that ozone tang behind. The room feels smaller now, just us, the weight of her return crashing over me like a wave.
I cling tighter, my face pressed into the soft curve of her belly, tears streaming as my body shakes.
“Don't you dare move,” I choke out, fingers digging into her sides, feeling the tremor in her muscles.
She is trembling too, that resilient fire in her flickering but not out. The supernatural pull between us—whatever twisted bond we have all got weaving through this mess—hums faintly, a dark fantasy thread tying her fear to my relief, revenge still simmering in the background like an unspoken promise.
Her fingers thread into my hair, gentle strokes that send shivers down my spine, nails scraping lightly against my scalp.
“Shh, Elena,” she whispers, voice husky from whatever hell she has endured, leaning down as best she can with me latched on. “I am alright. Safe now. Finally home.”
Her touch lingers, tracing the shell of my ear, a soothing rhythm that eases the knot in my chest but stirs something hotter, deeper. My sobs quiet to sniffles, her words wrapping around me like silk, promising an end to the worry that is clawed at my mind.
“You do not have to worry anymore,” she continues, fingers massaging deeper, tugging just enough to make me gasp softly against her stomach.
The fabric of her shirt dampens further under my lips, and I nuzzle closer, tasting salt from my tears and her skin. It is intimate, raw—the kind of closeness that blurs lines in this fucked-up world of angels, demons, humans and whatever else is out there. Her body shifts slightly, thighs parting just a fraction as she adjusts, and I feel the heat radiating from her core, a subtle invitation born from shared trauma. My hands slide up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts, not pushing but testing, the air thickening with unspoken need.
Minutes drag—fifteen, maybe more—my breathing evening out as her whispers paint pictures of safety, her fingers never stopping their caress, now dipping lower to trace my neck, collarbone. The rage fades to a dull ache, replaced by this fierce loyalty, protective and hungry. I lift my head finally, eyes red-rimmed and puffy, meeting hers—shaken but determined, that spark of truth-seeking burning bright.
“I am... I am gonna grab some drinks and a snack,” I say, voice thick, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “And when I get back, you are telling me everything. What happened, who that feathered fuck was— all of it.”
My tone's sharp, edged with the desperation that's been eating me alive, but softer now, laced with relief.
Adrianna nods, her hand catching mine, squeezing.
“I will. Everything. But I am coming with you. I do not want to be alone right now.”
Her eyes plead, vulnerable in a way that twists my heart, and I see the shadows there—the chains, the shrine, whatever dark fantasy she has escaped. The soul bond flickers, a whisper of revenge and deeper hungers, hinting at stories that will unravel us all.
I help her sit up, our bodies brushing in ways that spark electricity, her breast grazing my arm as she swings her legs over the bed's edge. We stand together, her leaning into me, hip to hip, the promise of her tale hanging heavy. Whatever angelic bullshit tried to break her, it has failed— we are here, clinging, ready to burn it all down. But first, truths over drinks, and maybe more, as the night stretches with unspoken sins.