46. Forty-Six

Ibarely got my cock back into my pants when Vastian stilled. He jerked his head towards the bridge, then back to Damian’s estate.

Should I tuck in my shirt? What was the point? It was gross. Just as I was about to ask him what he was riled up about, he slammed his body into mine, and we fell to the ground. A blast of fire just skimmed his pretty head and crashed into the tree I was pinned against a minute earlier. The bark sizzled and cracked as the flames grabbed the branches and leaves.

There was only one person who would be throwing fireballs at us.

“Vastian!” His name left my lips, and he was ripped from me.

Vastian levitated in the air as I scrambled to my feet and charged forward, tackling Aryn.

There was no reason he was here other than to take my man from me. And it wasn’t fucking happening. Vastian dropped with a thud, and he growled. Aryn’s eyes lit up in surprise as I throttled his neck with the same strength as he did mine.

“Isn’t this fascinating?” His thin lips curved into a smirk.

“Fuck you,” I snarled and spit in his face.

His nostrils flared, jerking me to the side, but I held my footing. “Defiling yet another. I don’t know why I expected differently.”

I hated how casual his voice was—hated how unaffected he was. And I hated that his throat wasn’t snapping within my grip. Demons were strong, sure, but I didn’t know they were as strong as a fucking god. He must have been choking down seven hearts daily to feed that kind of power. Vastian hadn’t moved in my peripheral, even though he was standing.

“So blind, even now.” Aryn chuckled like this was a game—like he was having a grand ol’ time.

I screamed at him, ripping my hands away and shoving him back. To my surprise, he let go of me. I never should have let go. I never should have stopped for a moment because when I turned to Vastian, I could do nothing when I followed his eyes.

It felt like I had been strangling the demon for minutes. But seeing I was distracted, it couldn’t have been more than seconds, just long enough for us to exchange some words.

It’s a strange feeling. Betrayal. I can’t really put it into words because I’ve never let myself truly be betrayed. Lied to, sure, plenty have lied to me. They died shortly after, but this—-this was vastly different.

Seeing a god was hard to process, but I recovered quickly. I also thought Vastian’s powers were impossible, but with some show-and-tell, I got over that.

There was no reason why I blanked so hard when I saw Alora.

Her face was unreadable. Her hair was black, and her eyes a gilded brown. I think I blinked a few times. Making sure it wasn’t a hallucination. But that was Alora. It was her cute button nose, her heart-shaped face, her pouty mouth—

“Deceiver!” Vastian barked, baring his fangs and squaring his shoulders.

I opened my mouth, but the words didn’t come. I tried to move but couldn’t. Vastian moved in a slow-motion blur towards Aryn. That should have sent me into a rage, forced me to react, to do anything. But I couldn’t break my eyes from hers. I couldn’t fathom a reason in all the world that she would be standing with Aryn, that she would be there.

Aryn had Vastian now. He was levitating again, his eyes screaming at me to snap out of it.

Alora had been in my life for thirteen years. Thirteen fucking years.

We were friends.

Shewas my friend.

The one person that I never worried about claiming as such. When I was broken, she was there. When I decided to run away, she let me go until I was ready to return. She and I were two peas in a pod until Ariel and Chris. When she nearly died, bleeding out in our crash house, I was ready to go to war to find the ones responsible.

This was fucking real. Vastian was right.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

And just like that, the three of them were fucking gone.

They were just gone.

A portal opened and closed, sucking them within it, and I still stood there, frozen and unable to believe that the last fragment of my world was shattered.

I stood there for a long time. Processing. Digesting and trying to make sense of it all.

I remembered when I told Alora about Mr. Darcy.

She told me it was a bad idea, that I shouldn’t go—her protest. And then, after Vastian and I returned to the Under Cloud when she just so happened to be at the Diamond Den, she knew precisely where Vastian was.

She knew he was with me, and I didn’t even think twice about it. Alora knew we were at Max’s Inn. She was conveniently injured in Belfor, and Vastian used his powers to fix her. She conveniently disappeared just before Aryn showed up and kicked my ass.

And then she helped Vastian.

“It doesn’t make fucking sense!” I shouted and tugged at my hair.

Alora was the missing piece to damn near everything that had happened lately, and I couldn’t figure out why. Her mom was in hell. Yes, we all knew that.

But, Aryn?

Seriously?

And what was worse was that she never told me. Not once in all these years. We could have been a fucking team! We could have been comrades in arms going against that shit stain.

“Why didn’t she tell me? How didn’t I know?”

I slapped my face a few times. It didn’t matter now. Vastian was right, and that bitch helped hand him over to Aryn.

Wait—

“Aryn saw him. He was right there,” I said to myself, pacing. “He looked at him!”

If Aryn knew who Vastian was that entire time, how come he let us go in the penitentiary? What the flying fuck was going on?

Growling, I took in my surroundings. “Looks like I’m requesting an audience with the fucking Queen.” And then I was on my way to hell.