The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 160: A terrifying battle.

Gloria staggered forward, her boots skidding on the fractured cobblestones slick with blood and snow. The castle’s ruined floor– once blessed with life and extremely regal a house for luxury Faes– now betrayed her with every uneven edge and shattered stone.

Each breath came ragged, white puffs vanishing into the icy air that clung to her skin like death’s fingers. Panic shimmered in her eyes, bright and raw, a fierce scream barely contained behind clenched teeth. She had to be quiet. Those freaking scary demons could already smell her scent so a single noise could make it easier for them. Damn! Could they even feel the cold? It didn’t seem so.

"There, it’s warm. Get inside the circle and take the Spike," Azrael urged, voice sharp as the crisp cold air. His gaze snapped to a shadow-drenched corner, shoulders stiffening like a wolf scenting a predator.

The ground groaned. Then it roared.

A monstrous vampire burst from the stone, a giant vampire, towering and grotesque, its skin bleached like bone, stretched too tightly over an inhuman big frame. The air turned rank with the stench of decay and foul blood. Azrael drew his sword, flame-kissed and thrumming with bloody red fire, casting violent reflections across the walls. This beast was soulless, immune to spells, immune to mercy. He couldn’t use his soulabsorption power to kill it. Azrael didn’t wait for fate. He didn’t blink. He lunged forward with one thought: sever its cursed head from its spine. He told himself like it was a mantra.

"Hurry the hell up!" he barked at the girl who was overwhelmed.

The distance between her and the Spike might as well have been a thousand leagues, far too much when a vampire could close it in a blink and tear her throat out before she could scream. Gloria dared a step forward and then froze.

The sound of chattering teeth erupted around her, not from one monster, not even three, but a swarm, more than a dozen. The clack of bone-on-bone echoed like a grotesque chorus. Gods above. One of them could rip her to shreds. This many? It was death waiting to pounce.

Azrael was locked in a brutal clash with the giant vampire and that massive jagged sword in its hand, who brought down the other free fist like a collapsing tower. The floor shattered beneath its blow, stone exploding outward, a crater the size of a man’s grave gaping at their feet.

The shockwave struck her like a hammer. Gloria hit the ground hard, pain jolting through her spine as the air rushed from her lungs. Dazed and gasping, she didn’t even see the hand at first, strong, warm, and anchoring her back to life.

Rail snatched her away.

"Come on! Get up and enter the circle, they won’t be able to touch you in there," Rail said, voice calm, like steel wrapped in velvet. He hauled her to her feet, one eye still fixed on the corridor where more vampires poured in, their red eyes glowing like dying stars.

Gloria’s gaze locked on Rail’s chest, his torn leathers dark with blood, the wound knitting together far too slowly. Her breath caught. Too slow...

"You’re bleeding," she whispered, her voice trembling as tears welled up, and warm, sticky blood smeared across her trembling fingertips.

"I’m fine. Go, I’ll cover you," he encouraged, lovely as ever, though his jaw clenched with pain.

She shook her head violently, her throat tightening. No. No, she couldn’t leave him. Not with the way those vampires were coming, shadows writhing with glowing eyes and clawed hunger. There were too many. Agara and he couldn’t hold them all back alone.

Azrael’s battle turned more savage by the second. The giant vampire roared, its hulking form riddled with deep gashes, but each one sealed before Azrael could land a killing blow. Faster than any normal foe, stronger than a nightmare, the beast kept coming. Azrael danced around it like a phantom, his blazing sword cleaving through muscle and sinew, but he hadn’t reached the head yet.

Agara was killing the new ones, but they kept coming.

"Listen to me," Rail said, grabbing her arm with urgency. "I can’t enter that circle. It burns me. Only you can get inside. You’ve already come halfway. Go now, Gloria."

Her tears spilled over, hot streaks down her frozen red cheeks. How could she leave him standing there, wounded, outnumbered, and still shielding her?

"I’ll stay. I’m not leaving you."

Rail met her eyes with a desperate intensity, the calm in his voice cracking. "If I’m watching you, I can’t fight at full strength. Please... go now."

Every part of her screamed to stay, but she forced her hand from his grip, choking back a sob. She turned and sprinted toward the circle, stumbling as tremors rocked the ground. Behind her, the giant hurled itself at Azrael again, so relentless, so brutal it was like watching a god fall.

And then the giant’s sword cracked the floor again, sending shockwaves her way.

She fell hard, scraped her palms raw, but rose again, fueled by terror, love, and the hope that she wasn’t too late.

Gloria’s lips curled in a fleeting smile, her eyes glistened, just one more step and she’d be inside the circle. Sanctuary was a heartbeat away. But before her foot could land, claws tangled in her hair, yanking her backward with a force that snapped her scream before it left her throat. The world turned upside down. For a split second, she was weightless, then she crashed into the shattered floor, stone biting into her spine, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. Wet warmth trickled through her hair. Blood.

"Ah, help..." Her voice broke, quivering, barely more than air. Her trembling palm scraped over the jagged stone as she forced herself up, vision swimming.

Through the haze, she saw Master Agara locked in combat with a vampire cloaked in black. This one didn’t snarl or hiss like the others. He moved with chilling grace, beautiful in the most dreadful way. Sharp-featured, composed, almost noble. A monster wrapped in elegance, so unlike the feral beasts clawing their way toward Rail.

"Gloria!" Rail’s voice cut through the storm like a spear.

He was fighting his way toward her, fury in his eyes. But before he could reach her, the battle behind her shifted.

Azrael had finished it.

The giant vampire roared one last time, legs thrashing as Azrael wrapped himself around its shoulders like a flame-wreathed shadow. His sword twisted deep through the monster’s skull, and with a final jerk, the creature’s head burst into flame and bone, lighting the hall with its death.

In the time it took her to blink, Azrael was beside her. He crouched, gripping her beneath the arms, hauling her upright like she weighed nothing, and rushed her toward the circle with supernatural speed.

He lowered her gently to the ground, eyes burning with focus.

"Can you cross it?" he asked, voice low, urgent, and brimming with a storm barely held at bay.

She glanced at his shaky figure! Can she? She was only an inch away. She felt life running away from her body. She was dying?

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freewe(b)nov𝒆l