AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Levia effortlessly leaped high into the air from her dais and landed in a crouch. She strutted across the dirt field toward me, sword on her back and dagger at her waist, gleaming in the sunlight, and the horn speaker in her hand.
She jumped onto the platform, then yanked my hair back as she lit a wicked grin.
Levia pressed a dagger to my throat. “After we drain your blood, I’m going to bathe in it, but meanwhile I want you to hear this pathetic bird cry while you remain helpless.”
How dare this demon talk to me with such disdain? Without the hematite cuffs, I could kill her with my bare hands.
“Don’t touch him.” I snarled and yanked at the shackles like a wild animal.
Metal clanked against metal. The wooden pole shifted a bit more. Good. Just a few more tugs and the pole would break.
Levia scoffed. “So feisty.” She turned to the audience and shouted into the horn speaker. “Remember this day, my people. Humans and demons have come together to kill a top-ranking angel. Look at her. She’s weak thanks to the bindings your king provided you. This Seraphim is not so powerful. The Order of Angels can be defeated.”
Victorious chants filled the stadium.
Levia swung her sword down at Kante’s broken wing. It thumped to the ground like a sack of rice. It happened so suddenly, a sight I had not prepared for, my breath caught in my throat.
Kante’s scream was drowned out by the mass cheering, and I felt his pain as if it were my own.
I had to do something. Anything. But these damn cuffs. I refused to believe they would be my demise.
Let me die in a battle, not like this.
Levia poked my forehead and whispered, “Tell me who holds the divine sword, and I’ll put you back into the dungeon. At least you’ll get to live.”
Was it an empty taunt? Or did she purposely not use the horn speaker so the king couldn’t hear her?
Zander had told me that an archangel had gifted the sword to me and had asked him to personally hand it to me. That special weapon is the only thing that can truly kill an archangel and Seraphim.
The sword also holds great strength and power.
Before I was taken, I’d tossed it to Zander. He must have hidden it before he had been captured, or Levia wouldn’t have asked about it.
I scowled and kept my lips sealed.
“Fine. You had your chance.” She pulled out a dagger from her boot and drove the blade just below my rib cage.
Blood rushed to my ears as pain coiled around me in a vise grip and a gush of warmth spread from the wound. I shuddered and yanked at the chains, refusing to allow a scream past my lips. I would not give her the satisfaction.
I glared at her, full of warning and a promise to return the favor.
The wound would heal eventually, but it didn’t matter. A couple more tugs on the shackles, and the pole would give way.
Levia raised her weapon, dripping with my golden blood. I barely heard the assembled mob shouting, “Cut off the wings.”
“Spread those plumes, ugly.” Levia pointed the weapon between my eyes. “The people demand it. And I aim to please.”
I clenched my jaw. “You’re not worthy to touch them.”
“You must like pain, Little Dove.” She glanced to the sky then back to me.
Everything within me went still. How did she know my nick name?
Zander had given me that nickname when we first met. He told me I reminded him of a dove—gentle and precious. But that was before he had found out I had another side—temperamental and stubborn.
When I craned my neck to the side, she smacked my face.
Bitch. Just you wait. It won’t be my hand but my wing that will hit you back.
