THE SAINTS HAVE FALLEN: CHAPTER 44
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The Saints Have Fallen is an Adult Dark Romance Fantasy Novel written by Celine Mahadeo.
Novel. Fiction. Genre (Dark Romance Fantasy).
By Celine Mahadeo.
BLURB
After being stripped of his title as a God and turned into a demon in the presence of his brother, Yuri was banished to earth to live amongst the humans whom he hates. 200 years later, a young girl shows up at his doorstep holding both his life and death in her hands whilst not having any idea of the power in which she possesses.
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Ana.
I groaned as I shifted achingly on the cold wooden floor of my room before the mirror. Pushing myself off the floor, I pinched the bridge of my nose to subside the terrible headache I was experiencing. The clock above the frame of the door caught my attention. Had I really been gone for four hours? Or did time work differently where I was? A startling feeling shocked me at my core. Had I been dreaming? Looking at my fingers, a wash of relief shot throughout my body, Yuri’s ring fit snugly around my finger. My dress was still damp, as was my hair and my legs ached as I walked. A hot blush travelled to my cheeks recalling what had happened there. But there was no time to think about that just yet. I had to tell the others where Yuri was. Maybe they would have known a way to get him out.
Pulling the door open, I slammed it against the wall and ran through the hall and down the staircase. “Mathias, Claude!” I called, “I know where he is. We can find him and get him out of there. Mathias-” My words came to an abrupt stop when Loraine shouted towards someone just beyond the kitchen, in the living room.
“Please!” Loraine pleaded. A violent, unnatural, scream pierced through the air. From the near distance I noticed the being. A human-like creature with red skin and a black crown upon his head growled at the Goddess. He was wider than the frame of the door and five feet tall but displayed soulless white eyes which pierced straight into me.
I halted in the puddle of blood which seeped through my toes. My eyes widened at the sight of Lou ripped in half at the floor. Her entrails oozed out profusely. Loraine stepped in front of me protectively.
“Don’t you dare!” she warned, holding her hands up, creating a shield before us. Claude, Mathias, and Quilt slammed through the door, eyes widened at the visual before them. Mathias stepped forward, about to attack when she stopped him, “Don’t! He’s a crowned one.”
What the hell was a crowned one?
Claude growled and gaze darkened as he heard those words. “Why are you here?”
The ‘crowned one’ let out a sick, nasally laugh, “I’m just following orders.” He darted forward, knocking the Goddess aside, and swung to the left, grabbing a hold of Quilt.
I screamed as he broke one of his arms. “Stop!” I pleaded, the stabbing ache in my chest was acute and devouring yet coursed throughout my veins. A hallow darkness erupted at the base of my stomach, fusing through my limbs. Power stung within me, deep, livid, wanting to consume. The crowned one broke another arm and reached towards Claude.
“Stop!” I screamed, my lungs and eyes burned as something hot and vile shot through the palm of my hands. A dark beam of shadow from me slammed him against the wall of the house. “Don’t you dare touch my friends!” I seethed. His bones twisted within the palm of my hands and I wanted to do nothing but crush it. Just him and I, and I could simply end him. A violent madness toiled within me and I hear no one else around me. The world numbed and shrieked at me all at once. Voices shouted at me. Violently. Madly. The image of Lou, dead on the floor pushed me. Pushed me to close the fist of my hands, snapping every bone in his body.
“Ana, stop!” Mathias shouted.
“Oh Gods!”
“Don’t kill him-” Mathias pulled me towards him. I fell into him, drained and unsure of what had just happened.
The screams stopped abruptly. A dead silence drifted through the air between us. Quilt groaned as Loraine aided him up and Claude examined the body of the crowned one.
“W-what happened?” I asked in labored breaths. My memory slowly came back to me as Claude stooped before the still red creature.
“He’s dead,” he frowned, looking up at Mathias and keeping his gaze fixed upon me.
“Tell me Ana,” Mathias spoke softly as he studied my hair and seemed to get his answer before asking his question, “Tell me you haven’t met Yuriel.”
A heavy drop pitted heavily at the base of my stomach and laced through me. “I don’t under- Weren’t we- how did I-”
“She smells like him,” Claude stated.
“Excuse me?” I asked. Heat shot to the cheeks of my face. “I don’t- I-I found him.”
“Oh yes,” Claude bit in a laugh, “You certainly came across him alright.”
“Claude,” Mathias warned as Quilt tried to speak but his words were replaced by another pained groan.
“Why are you both speaking to me like this? What did you find? And yes, I did find Yuri, he’s somewhere called Hell’s Purgatory.”
“No,” Mathias stated carefully, his words drawn out in hesitation, “He isn’t.”
“What?”
“Yuriel isn’t trapped anywhere.” He answered, lowering his eyes. “He led you to him.”
I stared into Mathias’s chest, processing his words carefully. “W-what?”
“H-he needed you, Ana.” Quilt gasped through the pain, “To c-complete the bond- in order to access his previous p-power.”
“We came back here as fast as we knew.” Mathias exhaled. He hesitated before saying the following words, “He isn’t what you think he is. I suspected it that day at the Stillwater Manor, he possessed a form of ancient dark magic. Le Leortith. A forbidden magic.”
“Then what is he?” Loraine frowned, concern creasing between her eyebrows, after assisting Quilt to the sofa. “If what you’re saying is true and he controls le leortith, is he truly…the…”
“God of Death,” Quilt finished, “Yes.”
I staggered back, not wanting to believe this all. This wasn’t happening. I blinked, in the hope that I would wake up from this nightmare. My back hit against the wall as I covered my mouth in disbelief. No. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to me.
“He wouldn’t,” I muttered softly, sliding down the wall. A streak of silver hair fell across my shoulders as I looked at it in horror. It was the same shade as his.
“It’s part of the bond. After you…” Mathias began in hopes of answering my question, “You both share a part of each other. That magic you wielded just now; it was part of it.”
“No,” I whispered. A nauseating sensation twisted within me as I repeated softly, “No.” The only reason he got close to me was to get his magic back. He- he used me. Everything was a lie.
“Ana,” Loraine knelt beside me and placed a comforting hand on my cheek. But she knew nothing she said would make this alright again. Nothing she nor anyone would say right now would matter or change the dull, icy stabs I was experiencing within.
“Mathias,” Loraine scowled deeply, looking at the dead being on the floor.
Claude let out a weary breath and answered instead, “This was a crowned one, a King of hell that she killed, they will be coming for her.”
“We can’t let that happen!” Quilt bellowed as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.
“We won’t,” Mathias iced. His tone was threatening but a layer beneath was filled with an anger I’d never thought I’d live to witness before me.
All I wanted to do right now was be alone. Away from everyone. The humiliation of my actions boiled within me and clawed like a sickly bird within the walls of my stomach. The floor was the perfect place to throw up right now, but I swallowed my saliva thickly, pushing it all down. My skin itched, and burned in memory. I wanted to claw every part he touched and kissed off, and if I could skin myself alive just to forget it, I would.
Loraine held my gaze and for a minute she shared what I was experiencing. Tears brewed within her eyes as she parted her lips unsure of what to say to ease the brutal crushing of my heart. Pushing myself up, I went for the door, back to the bedroom. I couldn’t look at anyone right now. I couldn’t stand myself or have them look at me. Look at the idiot that I was.
“Ana,” Quilt called to me, but Loraine held him back gently.
“Give her some time.”
I needed time. Time to myself. Time to realize and process how I’d been manipulated and played and tricked thinking that anything he said held truth. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that whatever he did and said to me held some sort of genuineness, but I was a fool to entertain that thought. They all wouldn’t lie to me. It was right in front of me, and I let my feelings get in the way. I was nothing but a fool and a tool to him. Anger flared through me as I slammed the door behind me. The silver streak of hair tumbled down to my waist as I noticed my reflection in the mirror. It taunted me. Mocked, laughed and reminded me how naïve I was. So easily fool. He thought I was a fool. I screamed, tossing the nearby vase at the mirror.
Glass shattered in shards everywhere. It was not enough. My breaths heaved violently. It. Was. All. A. Lie. It was too late to repress the fury clawing within me. My body tightened and I clenched my teeth. I swore I would break a few if I pressed any further. A lingering violence swirled throughout me.
How dare him.
How f*cking dare him.
***
The roof was wetter than she was tonight. Heavy raindrops pounded on, turning into a storm of desire and frustration. He was gone longer than she’d expected. Not a single call. The past few days with these unwanted guests in her house made her uneasy to say the least. Yet, wanted by her husband. Who the hell told him he could make a decision like that without her? God, he frustrated the shit out of her. God, did she love him anyway.
Elizabeth twirled her wedding ring around her delicate finger and shifted restlessly on the empty bed. The feeling of loneliness crept up between her legs. She shifted again. The nerve that man had to leave her here like this for days. She was thirsty. Really thirsty. The bottles at the bedside table had all been drained from earlier today. She hated cramps with a passion. She hated when he wasn’t around her when she felt like this.
Deciding to refill the water mug, she pushed herself off the bed and threw over a white shirt of her husband’s. This was the closest she felt to him in days, somehow it warmed her heart. Brushing her fingertips over the assortment of his cologne, she opted for her favourite. Musky. Dark. Sensual. Charming. Everything she’d describe Sebastian Lockwick to be.
The lights of the hall had been buried in darkness, yet the moonlight fought through the windows which luminated the moon-crest sloped staircase. The warm soles of her feet licked the icy marble beneath her as she made her way into the kitchen. Her eyes burned from the lack of sleep and worry. Men.
The sound of the ice maker suddenly startled her, causing her to spill the water she was pouring into a glass. “Shit.” As she pressed the rim of the glass to her lips, the sound of a hushed door closing grasped her attention. 11:55pm. Who could have been down here so late? Was someone breaking in? Surely, she could have handled the situation herself. Grabbing a hold on the nearest knife at the counter, she carefully trailed towards the sound.
A blanket of silence fell upon her at the sight of her husband drenched in blood, white shirt now wine, the tang of metallic red sin caressed her nose, his hair soaked in thick salted sweat and blood that slicked to his forehead. His eyes, however, reflected from the moonlight in its majestic silver blue. Elizabeth frowned deeply as he stalked towards her and stood inches apart.
“Well, you’re bloody late.” She broke the silence, annoyed.
Sebastian gave out a low chuckle, astonished at his wife’s dry humor, “A pun? Really?”
“How dare you leave me here like this,” she softly raged, bringing the knife up to his throat, “How fking dare you.”
“Love,” he cooed into her left ear, and pulled her tenderly by the waist, clasping the spaces between them. “I missed you too.”
“Are you forgetting the knife in my hand, Sebastian?” She warned.
“Go ahead, stab me.”
Sighing, she dropped it and wrapped her arms around his red moist neck. Swiftly, scooping her into his arms and perching her upon the kitchen’s island. “I should get cleaned up,” he suggested, “I don’t want you getting ill.”
“No, no. I’m not waiting anymore,” Elizabeth breathed shortly, locked her legs around him. Pressing her lips onto his, she’d slip her tongue in through smiles. He tasted like blood and vodka. Whose blood was this? She hadn’t even known. His hands travelled along her naked legs, as she moaned into him. Up. Up. Pulling away slightly, she kept an arm’s length, breathed, and slapped him across the face.
“You’re upset. I shouldn’t have left like that. I know. Things got… complicated.” He motioned to his drenched attire.
***
If you love mystery, dark romance, unhinged/ morally grey characters, crazy unpredictable plot twists, Gillian Flynn sort of novels with romance in it, then I think you will LOVE ‘Ophelia’. I actually cried writing it because I love one of the male love interest so damn much and -well- it’s a lot to explain. And I genuinely believe you will enjoy the crazy ride of that storyline! You just read the prologue, here’s the completed story!
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The Saint Have Fallen by Celine Mahadeo
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Yikes!! But did he really play her tho? I don’t want to believe it was all a lie, but I don’t want to be as naive as Ana. This story is so good. I’m sad it will end soon, but I am grateful that you shared your talent with us.
Oh man, this is bad
Poor Ana got played. Why she has to suffer so much