My head twists to face Luna, eyes widening when I watch her effortlessly unchain herself with barely a flick of her wrist. She stands and shakes the splinters of wood off her, throwing away the cuff that had held her around the neck as though it's a dirty sock and not a restriction device. Her blackened eyes scan the scene before she makes her way over to the glass box with the same grace as a panther. Her silver hair grows darker by the minute, the dark strands matching her eyes with eerie perfection.
When she reaches the box, her head tilts much like Brutus' does, and she places her hand on the clear surface, her eyes on Noah like she doesn't even recognize him. With a voice that sends chills down my spine, Luna demands, "Move."
She doesn't sound like Luna at all. There's an echo in her voice, giving it an ethereal effect that isn't at all natural. The gentle rasp is gone, the colorful way she usually talks drowned out by the harsh, melodic way she mutters that single word.
Noah does as he's told, crawling away from the glass unsteadily, his head lolling back to the wall behind him when he doesn't have the energy to hold it up any longer. Hand pressed up against the glass, Luna begins to hum under her breath. It's nothing like the sweet, angelic sound that usually leaves her. This is something else. Something darker, more dangerous. This isn't Luna at all, but something menacing and savage.
It does, however, do the trick. The glass shatters under her vibrating hand, splinters sparkling down until piles of sharp dust surround Luna's feet. Noah takes a deep breath of fresh air, coming back to himself with renewed energy. He tries to stand on shaky legs, failing and leaning against the wall while he gains his balance. I can do nothing but watch while my mind plays catch up.
Done with her task, she turns to us all and announces, "If you want to live, I suggest you remove yourselves from the vicinity. I don't plan to leave this place standing, with or without you inside of it."
Another chill slithers down my spine, and my heart shatters that bit more when her empty eyes look us over with such impassiveness that you'd mistake us for irritating gnats instead of the men that love her.
And there's the realization that comes far too late.
I don't have time to think about it, though, because the moment the words leave Luna's blackening lips, her hair turns wholly black and begins to float around her head by an invisible force.
"Tick tock. Time is ticking. Live or die, it's your choice," she tells us, turning her back on us to look at the unmoving body of Ms. Francis French.
I don't waste any time, hustling toward the post closest to me while Noah hurries to the other, even if my heart breaks that final bit, leaving a bleeding organ in its place. I find myself at Asher's post, looking over the contraption with frustration. Asher must feel it like a physical manifestation because he grates, "Just fucking cut me down. You're wasting time pussy footing around."
"Cutting you down will hurt you-" I start, but am abruptly cut off.
Snarling, Asher turns his hard gaze on me and snaps, "Our girl needs us. Nothing is going to hurt as much as losing her a second fucking time. Cut. Me. Down. Now."
I cut him down.
Chapter 2
Asher
Devon creates a metal axe, swinging it down repeatedly over the ridiculous contraption that's holding me hostage. Though pain radiates through my body, I pay no attention to it, having eyes only for my woman.
A deep ache spears my chest when her dead eyes look over at Devon while he hacks away at the wooden beam I'm tied to. They leave just as quickly, as though she doesn't have a care in the world about us. I know it's not real. Deep in my bones, I know she loves us, but our woman is grieving. She's in pain, and she's allowing her agony to take form. It's fucking killing me.
"Brace yourself," Devon grits through clenched teeth before swinging his axe down one last time, smashing through the wood and releasing me from my confines. Since I'm so focused on Luna, I don't have time to follow his direction, my battered body falling forward until I land hard on my knees. Vibrations run up my legs, pain jolting through my limbs with the force of my fall, but I don't take my eyes off Luna, especially when the invisible force around her starts billowing through her now pitch-black hair.
Free from that fucking post, I feel my energy slowly returning. It's not fast enough for my liking, but it's enough that I can stand without having to hold onto something to help my balance. Blood still drips from every wound inflicted on my body, streaks of it running from my wing scars. Apparently, re-slashing an already tender wound was one form of punishment Lucifer was all too eager to dish. Elijah had it worse since his scars are a lot fresher than mine, but I'll be damned again if it didn't hurt like a bitch.
I turn to face my brother, catching him falling to his knees much like I did when Devon and Noah finally free him. Knowing he's in safe hands, I focus back on my dark-haired angel and begin to slowly walk toward her, my shoes scuffing on the floor as I go.
With her back to me, I shuffle closer. The moment I'm close enough to reach out an arm and touch her, my sore throat works to push words out of my dry mouth. "Peaches? Come on, baby. We need to get you home."
Luna's head turns until her chin brushes her shoulder, not bothering to face me fully. It stings, but I know this isn't my Luna right now. My Luna is buried deep inside the broken heart that sits inside the chest of my grieving angel.
"Luna, it's me. Asher. Asher the asshole. The angry angel. Baby, we have to leave," I try again, sliding that little bit closer to her. When I do, I feel the energy pulsing from her. I can almost taste the unstable power vibrating in the air around her, the heady power that stokes down my spine with a dark, sinister touch.
My girl turns slowly, her hair fanning around her in eerie tendrils. The long strands float in the air, brushing past her face as she turns. Blackened eyes meet mine, lips as dark as midnight pursed in a straight line. Luna only looks at me, her expression blank save for the tightening of her lips. This close, I can see the tear streaks that shine against her cheeks, the fat drops of water that steadily leak from her lifeless eyes. My heart can't fucking take it.
I reach for her, wanting to pull her into my arms and comfort her. To hold her against me while she cries her tears of sorrow, knowing she still has men around her who will do all they can to make sure she's alright. Only, just as my hand almost reaches contact, Luna flinches, and her face hardens.
"Leave," she demands, her voice hollow. It echoes in the basement we're still in, and the hairs on my arms stand on end.
I'm as stubborn as she is, so she has another thing coming if she thinks I'm leaving her here. "I'm not going anywhere without you, Peaches. You should know that by now."
She flinches again, but the hard mask slips a fraction, revealing just how pained she is. That little slip is proof enough that my woman is fucking hurting. Bad.
But the stubborn little shit still won't let me hold her.
"You'll burn with the rest of this godforsaken place. Leave," she pushes, that single word catching in her throat with strain. It's enough to show me our Luna is still in there, fighting with the darkness that seems to have a hold on her. I open my mouth to speak, but Luna beats me to it, the blackness in her eyes fading a fraction. "Please, Asher. Just go."