Chapter 11 Questioning Everything
MIREYA'S POV
Shadows explode from my hands, throwing angel guards against tunnel walls.
Celeste screams. "Stop! You're going to kill them!"
"They're trying to kill me!" I dodge a holy blade that would have taken my head off. "What did you think would happen?"
My sister stands in the middle of the chaos, tears streaming down her face. "I thought you'd listen! I thought you'd realize you're being controlled!"
"I'm not controlled!" Another guard lunges. I wrap him in shadows and slam him into the ceiling. "I'm finally free!"
But even as I fight, doubt creeps in. Am I free? Or has the demon bond twisted my mind so much I can't tell the difference?
No. I push the thought away. Azraeth gave me choice. Always choice.
The shadow essence burns through my veins, making me faster and stronger than I should be. I tear through the angel guards like they're made of paper. But there are too many. For every one I drop, two more appear.
And I can feel the essence burning out. Minutes left, maybe less.
Through the bond, I sense Azraeth fighting his chains. His desperation bleeding into mine.
Almost there, I send to him. Hold on.
But I'm lying. I'm nowhere near him. I'm trapped in these tunnels, fighting my own sister and an army of angels.
A guard's blade catches my arm. I hiss in pain. Black blood—my blood is black now, like a demon's—drips onto stone.
"Mireya, please!" Celeste reaches toward me. "Just stop fighting! Let them help you!"
"Help me?" I laugh bitterly. "Like Mother helped me by cursing my magic? Like you helped me by choosing angels over your own sister?"
"I'm trying to save you!"
"I don't want to be saved!" My power surges. "I want to be left alone to make my own choices! Why is that so hard for everyone to understand?"
The tunnel shakes. My control is slipping. The shadow essence makes me powerful but unstable.
A massive angel descends from above—Seraphina herself.
"Enough," she says. Her sword blazes with holy light. "You've proven you're too dangerous to live. I gave you a chance to surrender. You refused."
She moves faster than I can track. Her blade swings toward my throat.
I barely dodge. The sword cuts through my jacket, leaving a burning line across my ribs.
"Your bond-mate dies tonight," Seraphina says coldly. "And so do you. Just like five hundred years ago."
Rage explodes through me. Not just my rage—Azraeth's too, bleeding through the bond.
"You murdered Morwenna!" The accusation tears from my throat. "You killed her because she loved someone you couldn't control!"
Seraphina's beautiful face twists. "I saved her from damnation!"
"You killed an innocent woman out of jealousy!" My shadows grow darker, more violent. "Everything the angels claim to stand for is a lie!"
"Mireya, don't—" Celeste starts.
But I'm done listening. Done being told what to think and feel and believe.
I unleash everything. The shadow essence, my demon-touched power, and all the rage I've carried my entire life.
The explosion levels the tunnel.
When the dust clears, I'm on my knees, gasping. The essence is gone. My power is drained. I have nothing left.
Seraphina stands over me, barely injured. Her sword raised for the killing blow.
"Any last words?" she asks.
Through the bond, I feel Azraeth screaming. He's still chained, still helpless, forced to feel me dying.
I'm sorry, I send to him. I tried.
His response is anguished: Don't leave me. Please. Not again.
Seraphina's blade begins its descent.
Then the entire tower shakes.
Not from magic. From something worse.
A roar that makes my bones vibrate. Power so vast it makes Seraphina's holy magic feel like a candle next to the sun.
The tunnel wall explodes outward. Not inward—outward. Someone broke out from inside the cells.
Azraeth stands in the rubble, chains still hanging from his bloody wrists. But he's not weakened anymore. He's furious.
And behind him, impossibly, are dozens of demons. The refugees from the sanctuary memory. Including a young demon with small horns—Kael, all grown up now.
"You touch her," Azraeth snarls at Seraphina, "and I'll show you what a real demon king looks like when you threaten his mate."
Seraphina's eyes widen. "How did you—the chains—"
"I broke them." Black blood drips from his wrists where the blessed iron tore through. "Five hundred years couldn't break me. Your chains certainly won't."
He moves between me and Seraphina, his massive wings spreading protectively.
Through the bond, I feel his relief and terror. He thought he'd lost me. Thought he'd feel me die through the connection.
"Behind me," he orders. "Now."
I try to stand but collapse. The essence burned through too much of my strength.
Azraeth catches me without looking. "Kael. Get her out of here."
The young demon—now maybe seventeen years old—rushes forward. "Yes, my king."
"No!" I grab Azraeth's arm. "I came to save you!"
"And I'm saving you right back." He presses his forehead to mine briefly. "We protect each other. That's what bonded mates do."
"How touching," Seraphina says. "But you're still outnumbered. I have fifty guards in this tower. You have what—twenty refugees?"
"I have enough." Azraeth's smile is terrible. "More importantly, I'm angry. And you know what happens when you make a demon king angry after five hundred years of torture."
The shadows in the tunnel respond to him. Not gentle like when I use them. Violent. Hungry. Absolute.
"Everyone who isn't demon or demon-bonded," he announces, "has ten seconds to run."
Half the angel guards flee immediately. The others hesitate, looking to Seraphina.
She raises her sword. "We don't run from—"
Azraeth doesn't let her finish. Darkness consumes everything.
When it clears, I'm being carried through different tunnels by Kael. Behind us, I hear fighting. Screaming. The sounds of angels dying.
"Where are we going?" I gasp.
"Safe house," Kael says. His voice is deeper than I expected. "The one your witch friend set up. We'll protect you there until the king finishes."
"Finishes what?"
"Making sure the angels think twice before hunting demons again." He adjusts his grip on me. "He's been planning this for months. We all have. The angel purges have gone too far. It's time we fought back."
We emerge into a different part of the city. More demons wait here—fighters, warriors, all armed and ready.
This isn't a rescue. It's a rebellion.
"How many?" I ask weakly.
"Two hundred and counting." Kael grins. "Turns out, a lot of demons are tired of hiding. When word spread that the king returned and bonded with a witch who storms angel towers? They wanted in."
We reach the safe house. Thorne is there, along with a dozen other witches I don't recognize.
"She made it," Thorne says, relieved. Then to me: "You're completely insane. You know that?"
"I've been told." I try to stand but can't. "Azraeth—"
"Is tearing Celestial Tower apart." Thorne helps lower me onto a cot. "We can feel the magic from here. He's not just fighting. He's making a statement."
Through the bond, I sense him. He's not holding back anymore. Five hundred years of rage, unleashed on the angels who took everything from him.
And mixed with that rage—relief. Joy. Because I'm alive and safe.
Come back to me, I send through the bond. Please. Don't die being heroic.
Says the woman who flew into a trap to save me, he sends back. There's laughter in his mental voice. We're both idiots, little betrayed one.
Yes. But we're idiots together.
I feel his agreement. His love bleeding through the connection.
But then another presence touches my mind. Not through the bond. Something else.
A voice I don't recognize: Mireya Ashcroft. Or should I say, Morwenna reborn?
I bolt upright. "Who—"
You don't know me. Yet. But we need to talk. About the prophecy. About what you really are. About why the angels fear you so much they'd destroy their own reputation hunting you.
"What prophecy?"
The one Morwenna recited before she died. 'Twice born, twice bound, the chaos child will shatter the crown of false light.' You're not just Azraeth's bonded mate. You're the key to ending angel rule forever.
"Who are you?"
A friend. For now. Whether I stay a friend depends on what you do next. The presence starts to fade. The angels have ruled for five centuries through lies and genocide. Demons have been hunted to near extinction. Witches have been enslaved to their system. And it all started when they murdered you the first time.
"I don't understand—"
You will. When you remember everything. When the full truth comes back. For now, know this: the angels didn't just kill Morwenna to punish Azraeth. They killed her because she discovered their darkest secret. The one that would destroy their claim to divine authority.
"What secret?"
Ask Azraeth. If he's ready to tell you.
The presence vanishes.
I'm left gasping, my mind spinning with questions.
Thorne crouches beside me. "What just happened? You went white as death."