The air between them was thick with unspoken words, a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. Selene's fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs. The executioners stood like statues, their unreadable gazes locked onto Asrael, waiting. Judging.
He had stepped forward, shielding her without hesitation. But she wasn't sure if that made her feel safer or more exposed.
The leader, the one with silver scars, narrowed his eyes. "This is not your fight, Asrael."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "You're wrong. It always was."
Selene's pulse jumped as she caught the slight tremor in Asrael's hands. It wasn't fear. It was restraint. He was holding something back. What?
"Enough of this." The second executioner, the one with burning blue eyes, unsheathed a blade made of celestial fire. "She has spoken the old tongue. The corruption is in her blood. You know what must be done."
Selene sucked in a sharp breath. "The corruption? I don't even know what I am."
The leader's gaze flicked to her, cold and assessing. "That is precisely why you are dangerous."
🔥 A BROKEN PAST, AN UNCERTAIN FUTURE 🔥
The executioners shifted, their bodies tensed in silent agreement. It was clear they wouldn't leave without a fight. Selene's throat tightened.
But Asrael was calm. Too calm.
His wings twitched slightly, a subtle movement, almost imperceptible. Selene saw the tension in his jaw, the way his breathing had slowed—controlled, measured. He was waiting for something.
Then, just as the second executioner lunged, Asrael moved.
🔥 THE FIGHT BEGINS 🔥
A gleam of gold. A clang of steel. The force of the impacts sent tremors though the ruins, dust and loose stone crumbling around them. Asrael had caught the blade mid strike .
Selene was jerked backward before she could even comprehend the speed of it
"Move!" Asrael's voice was sharp, urgent.
She stumbled but obeyed, darting toward the nearest cover. The ruins weren't stable. If this fight escalated, they wouldn't last long.
Another explosion of energy rippled through the air as Asrael parried a second strike, his movements fluid, almost effortless. But Selene could see it—the way his breath hitched, the slight delay in his counterattack. He was hurt. Still weakened from before.
And they knew it.
The leader advanced, his blade humming with divine power. "You cannot win this, Asrael."
In what wasn't quite a smile, Asrael flashed his teeth "Perhaps not."
Then, to Selene's shock, he dropped his weapon down.
🔥 A RISKY GAMBLE 🔥
The ensuing hush was deafening.
Selene felt her stomach lurch. What on earth is he doing?
The executioners hesitated, confusion flickering across their faces. It wasn't like Asrael to surrender.
The leader took a slow step forward. "You—"
A tremor rumbled beneath them. Faint at first, then stronger. The ruins groaned as if something deep within had awakened.
Selene felt it before she saw it. A pulse of power, old and restless. It crawled through her veins like an electric current. Her breath hitched, her vision blurring for a moment.
Asrael turned to her, his golden eyes urgent. "Run."
Selene's chest tightened. "I'm not leaving you."
"Selene." His voice was softer now, pleading. "Please."
The ruins shuddered again, the air growing thick with energy. And then, from the darkness beyond the archway, a whisper slithered through the air.
You have come at last.
A chill ran down Selene's spine.
The executioners were still. Their once divinely certain expressions now had a hint of something else
Fear.
🔥 THE REAL THEART EXPOSE ITSELF 🔥
Selene's hands shaking, she turned to face the archway. More irregular and brighter than before, the symbols etched into the stone were now glowing
Something was waking up.
And it wasn't on their side.
Asrael moved first, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back. "This place is collapsing. We need to go."
The leader of the executioners barely spared them a glance. His focus was fixed ahead, his body tense, his grip tightening around his blade.
"What is that?" Selene whispered, her voice barely audible.
The leader inhaled sharply. "Something we were never meant to disturb."
Asrael didn't wait for permission. He turned, his grip on Selene firm as they took off into the ruins, weaving through broken stone and shifting shadows. The ground cracked beneath them, dust and debris raining from above.
Behind them, the executioners didn't follow.
They had a bigger problem to deal with.
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