*Chiara

When she was fighting at the Fountain, watching angels fall to demon swords, one thing comforted her—that the Dark Flame was not there to cut off their wings before they died.

She could hurt him, this was her chance. She could make him suffer at her hand for a change. The tables would be flipped. It would be so easy.

It would feel so good, wouldn't it?

Lucius was so close his breath steamed on her skin. His nearness scraped her nerves like sandpaper, but his words were temptation as pure as if they stood in front of an open door to the Heavens. For one small act, she could be free. All she had to do was inflict pain on a demon who deserved it.

Wing-cutter.

Dark Flame.

How many had Logan tortured before killing them? Hundreds of angels had fallen under his sword.

It would be so easy. Too easy.

And yet, her soul wept at the thought. This same demon had held her with his voice through nights of unending darkness and pain.

She met Lucius's gaze, the lust in his eyes sickened her. There was the truth—not what he said, but in what he wanted. What he wanted was for her to belong to him.

"I won't do what you ask," Chiara said.

"Hah!" Logan laughed at her. "She's weak. I have told you that from the beginning. It takes courage to face an enemy, and she doesn't have any. Now let me loose and give me the same orders."

Yes. Let him prove once and for all who he really is. Let him end me.

Instead of freeing Logan, though, Lucius unlocked her wrists and ankles and dragged her across the floor. He shoved her at Logan, making her fall onto the demon.

The chains holding him were loose enough for him to catch her before she stumbled to the floor. His hand was feverishly hot on her bare skin. There was nothing of the disgust she should feel at being touched by a demon. Not when Logan had his arms around her. He lifted her close.

After months of imagining him touching her, this was the first time. She would hold this memory in a secret place of her heart, no matter if her life ended in a few minutes in a millennium.

"Do it," he breathed into her ear. "Do it, Chiara."

His hands were calloused and rough, but she imagined them running over her naked skin.

This instant was all she would ever have of him.

Her legs refused to hold her up. She slumped in his grasp. "I won't do what you want."

"But you will," Lucius said. He grabbed a fist-full of her hair to yank her head back. "You will do everything I require."

"I won't."

"Take the knife and cut him. Cut him anywhere you like, so long as the blood flows. One cut. That is all. Then you may go free. I will take to you to the top and let you go."

"I won't do what you want. Ever," she said, spitting the words.

Logan slipped an arm around her waist. He spoke to Lucius. "Getting closer to my every fantasy."

"Don't get too comfortable," Lucius warned. "She's about to use the knife."

"If only she would, but I doubt she has the strength. You know she claims to be a warrior? She told me she killed a dozen demons at the Fountain. As if it isn't obvious she was there to entertain the troops."

"Let me go." Chiara struggled to free herself. Logan was right about one thing—she was weak. Months of torture had broken her body, the same as her wings had been broken the first day.

Laughing in agreement, Lucius turned to the table with the various instruments of torture that Dirk so enjoyed cleaning and realigning every day after their use. He brushed his hand over them, walking the length of the table.

"Do it," Logan whispered again in her ear. "Why are you fighting this?"

"He won't let me go," she said.

"No, but then it will be my turn."

A shocked gasp ripped free of her mouth. She twisted, struggling to get out of his grasp.

There was a whistle of air, and a heavy mallet smashed her legs, knocking her to the ground. She cried out in pain, clasping her broken knees.

"Everything you refuse to do to him, I will do to you instead," Lucius roared. He raised the spiked mace.

"I won't do what you want!" She crossed her arms in front of her face, knowing it was useless.

The mace came down, crushing her ribs. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. Instincts forced her to claw her way on the floor, looking for safety. Lucius laughed. The mocking noise reverberating in her head like hornets buzzing.

"Cut him, and all of this will stop."

Chiara heaved her chest for air, but could not fill her lungs. She stopped crawling as a strange calm enveloped her.

This was the end.

She was finally going to die. Pain faded. The heat of the fires cooled. She was light, light as the feathers of her wings.

Thank you.

"Lucius," Logan growled. "It's too much."

"Wait. Watch this."

Her heart slowed. The sensation of floating lifted her.

There was a snick of something opening.

The splash of water on her head.

Water...at last. At the end...

She stopped floating. She was swimming, floating in a soft pool of water, deliciously warm to her skin.

She sucking in air, her lungs filling despite being underwater, despite being smashed.

Incredible joy rushed into fiber of her heart, body and mind.

The scent of a thousand flowers and the light of a thousand dawns and the strength of a thousand rivers swept over her. Mountains formed in her bones, stars exploded in her chest, and thunder pulsed in her veins. The strength of the world rushed into her muscles.

She stood.

She was power. She was energy. She was life.

Lightening shot from her heart to her wing joints, and sizzling energy danced up and outwards. Bones popped and snapped into place. She spread her wings, their glorious movement sending thrills through her body. They reached out and out and out, shivering with the wonderous sensation of movement.

She was whole. She was healed.

By the pure white light of her wings, she finally saw the demons as they truly were.

Under Logan's mottled, scaly skin flickered a dark flame—purple, indigo, navy, bruise—the colors of suffering and cruel power.

Hard cuffs slammed onto her wrists. Her angelii disappeared within her with an agonized screech.

Chiara blinked, focusing on Lucius.

"We couldn't let your angelii come out to play, too risky. But you can stay, nice and safe with me, the Ferrum cuffs, forged in the fires of the Halls of Lust will make sure of that. Now, my sweet. Let's play."

*** I don't think he wants to play nice... Thank you for reading! Is this the beginning of the end for Chiara, or will she still be able to escape? Hit the star! ***