Chapter 8 First Taste of Power
MIREYA'S POV
Pain tears through my back like knives made of fire.
I scream. Something rips through my skin—breaking, emerging, unfurling. The agony is worse than anything I've ever felt. Worse than the soul mark burning. Worse than Morwenna's death memory.
"Mireya!" Azraeth catches me as I collapse. "Breathe! Just breathe through it!"
"What's happening to me?" I gasp between screams.
"Wings." His voice sounds shocked. Awed. "You're manifesting wings. That shouldn't be possible unless—"
The pain peaks. Then suddenly stops.
I'm panting, shaking, covered in sweat. But the agony is gone. Replaced by a strange new sensation—weight on my back that somehow feels right.
I turn my head. See them.
Wings. Massive black wings edged with silver, exactly like Azraeth's but smaller. They spread from my shoulder blades, beautiful and terrible.
"I have wings," I whisper. "How do I have wings?"
Azraeth stares at me like I'm a miracle and a nightmare combined. "The ritual completed wrong. Or maybe—" He touches one of my wings gently. I shiver at the sensation. "Maybe it completed exactly right. You're not just demon-bonded anymore. You're something new."
"What am I?"
"I don't know." For the first time, he sounds uncertain. "Half demon. Half witch. Your bloodlines merged completely during the bonding. You're—"
"A monster," Celeste sobs from where she's kneeling. "I turned my sister into a monster."
Rage floods through me. The shadows in the cathedral respond, twisting violently. My new wings flare wide.
"Don't call me that!" My voice echoes with power. "You stood by while Mother suppressed my magic my whole life! You got everything—love, attention, approval—while I got nothing! And now you dare judge what I've become?"
"I didn't know!" Celeste cries. "I swear, I didn't know about the necklace! Mother said it was just jewelry! She said you were delicate, that you needed—"
"Lies!" I take a step toward her. Shadows coil around my hands like living serpents. "She knew exactly what I was. She chose to keep me weak. And you never questioned why she favored you over me. Why I was always the forgotten one."
Through the bond, I feel Azraeth's satisfaction. He likes seeing me angry. Powerful. Dangerous.
"We need to leave," he says. "Seraphina's announcement means every angel and angel-sympathizer in the city will be hunting us. This cathedral won't hide us much longer."
"Where can we go?" I demand. "You heard her. Anyone who helps us dies."
"There are places even angels fear to tread." He pulls himself upright, looking stronger now that the ritual is complete. The black veins on his skin are fading. The curse is breaking. "The shadow markets. Underground demon territories. We'll need allies if we're going to survive."
"I don't want to just survive." The words surprise me as much as him. "I want revenge. Kieran stole my research and destroyed my life. Lilith cursed me as a baby. My mother sold me before I could walk. Seraphina is hunting me for crimes I didn't commit." My hands clench into fists. "I want them all to pay."
Azraeth's smile is sharp and approving. "Now you sound like a demon queen."
"Is that what I am now?"
"You're my bonded mate. That makes you queen to anyone who follows me." He steps closer. "I can teach you to use this power. Train you to fight. Help you become strong enough that no one can ever hurt you again." His amber eyes lock onto mine. "In return, you help me reclaim what the angels took. My throne. My kingdom. My right to exist without chains."
It's a deal with a demon. Literally. The old Mireya—the quiet librarian who apologized for existing—would never agree.
But that Mireya died the moment I summoned him.
"Deal," I say.
He extends his hand. I take it. The moment our palms touch, the soul mark flares bright. Power surges between us. I feel his strength flowing into me, and mine flowing into him. The bond is complete now. Permanent. Unbreakable.
"First lesson," Azraeth says. "Your power responds to emotion. Anger makes it violent. Fear makes it defensive. Control your emotions, and you control the shadows."
"And if I don't want to control them?" The shadows around me dance wildly. "What if I want to let them loose on everyone who hurt me?"
"Then you'll burn out your own power and collapse. Seen it happen to a dozen new demons." His grip tightens. "Raw power is useless without control. You want revenge? You want to make them suffer? Then you learn patience. Strategy. How to strike where it hurts most."
He's right. I hate that he's right. But rushing in wild and angry will just get me killed.
"Teach me," I say.
"We start now." He releases my hand. "Close your eyes. Feel the shadows around you."
I do. And immediately, I sense them—darkness in every corner, responding to my presence like pets waiting for commands.
"Good. Now call them. Gently. Don't grab—invite."
I reach out with my mind. The shadows flow toward me, wrapping around my arms like silk.
"Excellent." Pride bleeds through the bond. "You're a natural. Most demon-bonded witches take weeks to—"
A massive explosion rocks the cathedral.
The entire front wall collapses inward. Through the dust and debris, figures descend. Not angels this time.
Worse.
Demons. A dozen of them. All radiating power that makes my bones ache. They wear armor made of shadows and carry weapons that gleam with dark magic.
Leading them is a female demon with crimson skin and horns that curve like a crown. She's beautiful and terrifying.
"Azraeth," she purrs. "Five hundred years, and you escape your prison only to bond with this?" Her red eyes rake over me with contempt. "I expected better taste from the great Demon King."
Through the bond, I feel Azraeth's shock. And underneath it, dread.
"Nyx," he says carefully. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?" She steps over rubble, her warriors flanking her. "Word spreads fast in our world. The king has returned. The king has bonded. The king owes many debts to those who tried to free him while he was imprisoned."
"I owe you nothing."
"No?" Her smile is cruel. "I spent a century fighting to find your prison. Lost half my forces trying to break through angel wards. And when I finally located you, do you know what happened?" She moves closer. "The angels killed my mate. Tortured him in front of me. Made an example of what happens to demons who try to rescue their king."
The temperature drops. Frost spreads across the floor.
"Rykar," Azraeth breathes. "Nyx, I'm sorry—"
"Sorry?" She laughs. It's a terrible sound. "Sorry doesn't bring him back. But you can repay the debt another way." Her eyes fix on me. "Give me the girl. Her blood will let me open a portal to the angel realm. I'll drag them into our world and make them pay for what they took from me."
"She's my bonded mate. She's off limits."
"Then I'll take her by force." Nyx gestures to her warriors. "You're weak from the curse. Newly bonded. You can't fight all of us."
She's right. Through the bond, I feel Azraeth's exhaustion. The ritual saved him, but he's not at full strength yet.
We can't win this fight.
But then I remember what he said: Control your emotions, and you control the shadows.
I close my eyes. Reach for the power inside me. Not the wild, destructive chaos from before. Something focused. Sharp.
When I open my eyes, every shadow in the cathedral answers my call.
"You want my blood?" My voice sounds different. Layered. Powerful. "Come take it."
The shadows explode outward like a tsunami of darkness.
Nyx's warriors are thrown backward. But Nyx herself stands firm, her own power pushing back against mine.
"Interesting," she says. "Maybe you're worth keeping alive after all." She raises one clawed hand. "Capture them both. The king and his new queen. They'll be useful in the war to come."
War. What war?
But before I can ask, the demons attack.
And through the bond, Azraeth sends me one clear message: Fly. Now. Your wings aren't just for show.
I spread my new wings. They feel natural, like I've had them forever. With one powerful thrust, I launch into the air.
Azraeth flies beside me. Together, we crash through the cathedral's glass ceiling and into the crimson night.
Behind us, Nyx screams in fury: "Find them! They can't have gone far! And when you do, kill the girl and bring me her blood!"
We fly through shadows, dodging between buildings, desperately trying to escape.
But I can hear them following. Wings beating. Magic crackling. They're faster than us. Stronger.
"Where do we go?" I gasp.
"Somewhere they won't follow." Azraeth banks hard left. "The human realm still has one place demons fear."
"Where?"
He doesn't answer. Just dives toward the ground, toward a part of the city I've never been.
We land hard in an alley. My new wings fold against my back automatically.
Ahead, I see our destination. A building that makes my blood run cold.
Ashenvale University. Where Kieran works. Where I was destroyed.
"Are you insane?" I hiss. "Angels patrol this place! The entire faculty are angel sympathizers!"