Chapter 22 The Rescue
AZRAETH'S POV
Seraphina's trap springs the moment we materialize.
Holy chains erupt from the ground, wrapping around my warriors. Three fall instantly, screaming as the blessed metal burns their skin. Nyx dodges, but barely.
"Did you really think I wouldn't anticipate your heroic rescue?" Seraphina circles us, her star-metal blade reflecting firelight. "You're so predictable, Azraeth. Always protecting the weak."
Through the bond, I feel Mireya's rage building. She wants to attack, to make Seraphina pay for Morwenna's death. But attacking now gets everyone killed.
"How many refugees inside?" I ask quietly.
"Sixteen. Mostly women and children." Seraphina smiles. "They're crying for you. Begging their precious king to save them. Should I tell them you're too busy being trapped?"
Mireya's shadows explode around her. "Let them go. Your fight is with us."
"Oh, sweetling, my fight is with ALL demons. You're just the bonus prize." Seraphina gestures, and more angels emerge from hiding. Thirty at least, all armed with holy weapons.
We're outnumbered and outpositioned. A direct attack means casualties we can't afford.
"I have an idea," Mireya whispers through the bond. "But you have to trust me."
"Always."
"Then follow my lead. And whatever happens, don't break character."
Before I can ask what she means, Mireya drops to her knees, her shadows vanishing. She looks up at Seraphina with tears streaming down her face.
"Please," she sobs. "Please don't hurt them. I'll do anything."
What is she doing?
Through the bond, I feel her command: "Play along. Act like I'm betraying you."
Understanding clicks. I school my expression to shock and betrayal. "Mireya, no—"
"I'm sorry!" She's fully crying now, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry, Azraeth, but I can't watch children die. Not for this. Not for us." She looks at Seraphina. "I'll break the bond. I'll give him up. Just let the refugees go."
Seraphina's eyes gleam with triumph. "Now that's interesting. The little witch has more sense than the demon king."
While she's focused on Mireya, I feel power building through our bond. Massive amounts of power. Mireya's not breaking—she's preparing something huge.
"Stand down your forces," Mireya pleads. "Let me evacuate the refugees to neutral ground. Then I'll break the bond and surrender myself to you. You'll have me, Azraeth will be weakened without the bond, and nobody else has to die."
It's a brilliant lie. Seraphina's arrogance makes her believe it.
"Fine. Evacuate your pathetic refugees. But if you try anything—"
"I won't. I promise." Mireya stands slowly, wiping her tears. She walks toward the burning sanctuary, and I feel her real plan through the bond.
She's creating illusions. Massive, complex illusions that will make the angels think the building is already empty.
I have to buy her time.
"Mireya, don't do this," I call out, letting anguish fill my voice. "We can fight them together!"
"I'm tired of fighting." She doesn't look back. "I'm tired of people dying because of us."
She enters the building. Through the bond, I feel her power explode as she casts the illusion spell. It's brilliant—making it seem like demons are fleeing out the back, away from the angels' position.
"They're escaping!" an angel shouts.
"After them!" Seraphina commands. "Don't let them—"
But she stops, confused. Because the "refugees" she's seeing aren't leaving tracks. Aren't making sounds. Her eyes narrow.
"It's a trick!"
Too late. Through the bond, I feel Mireya void-walking the real refugees out through shadows—pulling them one by one to safety. It's taking everything she has. The power drain is massive.
Sixteen people. She has to shadow-walk sixteen terrified demons who don't know how to help her.
I feel her consciousness wavering. She's not strong enough for this yet.
I shadow-walk into the building, catching her as she collapses after evacuating the twelfth refugee.
"Four more," she gasps. "I can do four more."
"You'll kill yourself."
"Then help me!"
Through the bond, I pour my power into her. Together, we pull the last four refugees through shadows—including Kael and his mother.
The building collapses just as we exit. Seraphina screams in rage, realizing she's been fooled.
"Kill them! Kill them all!"
Angels swarm us. I fight with everything I have, protecting Mireya's unconscious body while Nyx and our warriors engage the holy guards.
A blade catches my wing—not star-metal, but blessed steel. Pain explodes through me as the membrane tears. I fall, crashing to the ground with Mireya still in my arms.
"Retreat!" Nyx shouts. "Get the king out!"
"Not without the refugees!" I roar back.
"They're already gone! The witch got them all out! Now MOVE!"
She's right. Through the bond, even unconscious, Mireya's proud satisfaction pulses faintly. She saved them. All sixteen.
Nyx grabs us both, and we shadow-walk away as Seraphina's blade whistles through the space where my head was seconds before.
We materialize in a safe house three miles away. I collapse immediately, my torn wing useless, my power completely drained. Mireya's still unconscious, her breathing shallow.
The refugees crowd around us, crying and thanking us. Kael's mother is sobbing.
"You saved us. Both of you saved us."
But I can barely hear her. Through the bond, I feel Mireya's life force flickering. She pushed too hard, gave too much.
"Mireya." I shake her gently. "Mireya, wake up."
Her eyes flutter but don't open.
"Somebody help her!" I don't recognize my own voice—it's desperate, terrified.
Nyx kneels beside us, checking Mireya's pulse. Her expression goes grim.
"Az... her life force is almost gone. The void-walking drained her completely. Without demon essence to replenish her—"
"Then give her mine!"
"You're almost dead yourself. You can't—"
"I don't care!" I press my hand to her chest, over the soul mark. "Take whatever you need. Just live. Please, Mireya, just live."
Power flows from me to her through the bond. The last of my strength, everything I have left.
Her breathing stabilizes. Color returns to her face.
But mine starts fading.
"Azraeth, stop!" Nyx tries to pull me away. "You'll die!"
I don't stop. If she dies, I die anyway. The bond won't let me survive losing her. But maybe I can save her first.
Through the bond, I feel her consciousness stirring. Her eyes snap open, gold and panicked.
"What are you doing?!"
"Saving you."
"You're killing yourself!"
"Worth it."
She grabs my face, and through the bond, I feel her fury and terror and overwhelming love.
"Don't you dare die on me, demon king. Don't you dare."
Then she kisses me—finally, desperately—and through that kiss, the bond equalizes. Her recovered strength flows back to me. Power cycling between us, balancing, healing.
When we break apart, we're both gasping but alive.
"That was stupid," she whispers.
"Says the witch who nearly died saving sixteen strangers."
"They're not strangers. They're ours."
Through the bond, I feel her absolute conviction. These refugees, these outcasts—they're our responsibility now. Our family.
But I also feel something else. A warning prickling at the edge of my senses.
"Nyx," I say quietly. "Check the wards."
She does, and her face goes pale. "Someone's tracking us. Multiple someones. They're coming here."
"Who?"
"I don't know. But whoever they are, they're powerful. And they're moving fast."
Through the bond, Mireya and I both feel it—the approaching threat. Not angels. Not witches.
Something worse.
The safe house door explodes inward.
Standing in the entrance, radiating power that makes even Nyx step back, is a demon I never thought I'd see again.
My brother.
Malik. The demon who betrayed me five hundred years ago and handed me to the angels for imprisonment.
He smiles, and it's all teeth.
"Hello, brother. Miss me?"