by C. M. Owens
Everyone outside of our bond vanishes, and Paca cries out as her legs give out the second they’re gone…like she was just waiting for privacy to finally drop. It’s now I realize how hard she was working to stay on her feet, because Ezekiel has to catch her and lower her the rest of the way to the ground.
I start toward her and stop myself again, since it’s clear it’s him she wants.
Just based on what I’ve gathered, it looks like Lucifer fucked with her head, and something big went down with Ezekiel in this illusion she mentioned.
Games. All fucking games.
All I can do is look over the exposed flesh on her torso and work like hell not to react to all the dark discoloring and ignore the small whimpers she’s struggling to stifle.
She loses some of the war with her emotions, muffling her sobs the best she can when suppressing them gets too pressing.
It takes a very concentrated amount of effort to resist the urge to rip her from Ezekiel’s arms. When we all gravitate toward her a few steps, I realize I’m not the only one suffering with this struggle.
She truly has no idea the power she holds over us, and none of us are about to fucking tell her. We’d never hear the end of it.
“I’m still mad at you, but you’re my favorite just because you’re not really dead,” she says so brokenly.
It tells us enough about what was going on while we were fighting our way back, and I want to kill Lucifer myself. She went over the edge of a firefall, ready to die with Gage. I can only imagine how crazy the damn girl went if they made her think E was dead.
“I’m sick of the games. Someone needs to tell us what the fuck is going on,” Jude bites out as Ezekiel lifts Paca from the ground.
I watch with more longing than I care to admit, because I find myself wishing the fucker had made it look like I had died. I want to be the one comforting her right now, giving her solace and security.
That…pisses me off to no end. Comfort’s not exactly my usual gig, and I wouldn’t even know how the hell to tackle something like that.
Instead of doing that, I go on high alert, ready to kill any-fucking-thing that even tries to move in her direction. I train my eyes on the horizon, waiting for whatever comes next.
I’ll be damned if they touch her again.
It’s time to pay Hell’s Black Heart a visit. I’ll face the nightmares we’ve all quietly been avoiding.
I won’t ever feel this helpless again.
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ONE APOCALYPSE – TBA
