Lover's Wrath: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (An Angel and Her Demons Book 3) by Lacey Andersen (best classic literature TXT) 📗

Something within her shriveled back in fear. Something she hated.

It was her damned heart. It remained human, no matter what she did. It ached when she took lives. It felt like an open, gaping wound each time her memories turned her dreams into nightmares.

Her heart was the one thing she wished to be rid of more than anything else in this world. She cared nothing for the war, for the angels and the demons, or for anything except for a way to stop the pain that made her every breath pure torture.

She’d been so close to achieving her dream.

She’d felt the gargoyle die. She’d held his stone-essence in her hand, ready to devour it. To kill the last thing that was human within her. But Caine’s angels had invaded her fortress before she could, killing her guards and taking her prisoner.

Now, she cared nothing for what this power-hungry fool did to her. She only wanted the stone-essence back.

“Looking for this?” Caine’s voice came, filled with humor, and a hand emerged from the darkness, holding the gargoyle’s essence as it pulsed.

She tried to roll toward it and gasped. She cried out as the pain roared through her, blackening her vision. She needed that essence, needed it more than she needed air.

“I have thought long and hard over how to make you suffer for your betrayal.” The cloud moved toward her, and she sensed him coming closer.

But her gaze was locked on the gargoyle’s essence. If Caine got close enough, she would snatch it from him. At that point, no matter what happened to her body or soul, she wouldn’t care.

The throne room doors were thrown open. Four men, surrounded by angels, were bound together. Their heads and hands were locked in thick wooden stocks that they carried on their massive backs. The men looked wild and dangerous.

They were exactly the kind of men she feared.

Trailing behind them all was an old woman, less battered than she was, but a lot filthier.

“Do it,” Caine said, and his voice was like a coiled snake.

The old woman shuffled closer to her and knelt down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But it’s the only way he’ll let me go.”

The Demon of Sacrifice tried to escape the woman, but her injuries made it impossible.

The old woman began to chant a spell, a witch’s curse. She plunged a glowing red hand into The Demon of Sacrifice’s chest. The pain… it was on another level. It went beyond her body and soul, to her very heart.

When the demon’s vision cleared, she saw the woman holding a pulsing ghostly heart in her hands. And she knew, she could feel, that it was her own. The witch rose to her feet and moved to the four frightening prisoners.

She hesitated.

“Do it,” Caine commanded, his voice shaking with rage or excitement, she wasn’t sure which.

The witch tore the heart into four equal pieces while the demon screamed and withered upon the ground. When the witch was done, she forced the pieces, one after another, into the men. When she was done, the men were on their knees, panting and glaring.

“It’s done,” the witch said.

The demon lay upon her back, shaking in shock. She felt different. Her emotions didn’t make sense, and her chest felt empty and strange. “What did you do to me?”

“Simple,” Caine whispered. “You betrayed me for this fucking stone heart. And so, I have given you the perfect punishment. These four men now control your heart. They hold the pieces, connecting you to them forever.”

“No,” she whispered.

“It’s like being in love,” he said, his voice amused. “Only, you don’t have a choice.”

She heard him snap his fingers. The angels grabbed each man, and then they were gone.

“Wh—what?”

“Oh, did I not mention? Not only do they hold your heart, but if you want to find them, you’ll have to work for it.” He laughed. “Now guards, taken her broken body and toss it outside the barrier. Let’s see how long it takes her to heal with birds picking at her flesh.”

Two angels grabbed her. She screamed at the pain their touch brought. Her head lolled to the side between them, and she wished for death. She wished real death would come, the kind that meant her suffering would finally end.

The old witch, wearing nothing but scraps of cloth, knelt down, her body filthy and thin.

“My freedom,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Of course,” he said, annoyance in his voice. He gestured with his hands. “Guards, take her back to the dungeons.”

Two angels grabbed her arms. The woman began to fight, her voice rising. “You gave me your word! You said—“

“I’m sorry, but you’re far too valuable for me to let go.”

As the Demon of Sacrifice was carried out of the fortress and to the desert outside, she heard the sounds of the witch’s sobs. She wanted to be happy. The witch had doomed her to a life of unimaginable suffering. But her heart? The pieces of it, that she could sense even now, ached to return to her.

Her thoughts came again, swimming through her pain. If Caine thought he’d won, he was wrong. He had no idea what she was capable of. She would track down the four men, and she’d recover her heart. Then, she’d find Caine, get her stone-essence, and make him pay.

He might be powerful, but I’m The Demon of Sacrifice. Revenge against men is what I do.

19

Surcy somehow managed to teleport the entire group of people to the little cabin Daniel had brought her to so long ago. She wasn’t sure if was the exertion of teleporting that many people at one time, or her exhaustion, but she immediately collapsed, falling into darkness.

When she awoke, she was lying on a bed, with the God of Earth’s two children asleep beside her.

She sat up and found herself surrounded by Immortals. To her complete shock, all of them appeared to