Awaken the Soul (Havenwood Falls High)(28)



My eyes meet Sebastian’s. “I don’t want to die. Please?”

A smile graces his supernaturally perfect angelic face as he grasps my wrists and pries me away—as simple as plucking a piece of lint from his shirt—dropping me.

I have one moment to scream before I land hard and roll, coming to a stop when my arm cracks against a snow-covered rock. The snap of bone in my forearm sends pain throughout my entire body. The sound vibrates in my teeth. Biting my lip so hard I taste blood, I scramble into a ball and search the sky. Where is he? Where did he go?

The swoosh of wings is nearby. I push to my feet and run.

Tripping over limbs, tearing through bushes, and slipping on ice, I play hide and seek with an angel in the sky. His laughter trails me, and his shadow mocks me, never straying far from where I am. My toe snags a limb, and I pitch forward. I twist in time to save my arm from impact and slam head first into a thick pine. Warmth oozes down my face as white flashes behind my eyelids. It hurts. My broken arm, my weak legs, the throbbing in my head. Red drips to the white snow, and I lift my hand to the wound.

“Breckin?” I whisper his name, praying against all hope he hears me as the reaper lands.

Sebastian’s shadow blocks the sun. His mottled gray and cream wings remain fanned out, like any moment he’ll take off again. He’s proud of what he’s done—victory wreaths his face. But what is my cost?

“I knew you were special the moment I was sent to reap you. Death’s orders are always the same, but for you . . . they were different. Your blood told the story. It has been thousands of years.”

“What do you want with me?” I drag myself backward, my hand searching the ground for a weapon as I go.

“Had he left you to me, your soul would be free. I never considered doing anything but my job.” He walks forward, keeping his distance as I push backward. “But he is the son of an angel,” Sebastian says with distaste. “He interfered. He broke the laws, and he opened my eyes to what you are. What you can be.”

Bile rises, burning my throat as the world spins. “What am I?”

The question barely passes my lips when snow flies, and Breckin lands, his body crouched before me. The muscles in his back flex, ready for a fight as his wings stretch out, taking up twice the space as Sebastian’s.

“You,” Breckin peers over his shoulder, “are my soul.”

He scans me, verifying I’m relatively unscathed before focusing on Sebastian. My shoulders shake with relief. Using the tree at my back, I work into a standing position. Dizziness swamps me. I clutch the pine, my face pressing against the rough bark as I work to remain on my own two feet.

“You dare take her from me?” Breckin growls. “This will not end well for you, reaper.”

Breckin leaps into the air, throwing himself at Sebastian, a flash of movement to my already blurry vision. The ground shakes, and thunder-like sounds echo through the forest as their bodies connect. Sebastian soars backward, twists, then launches at Breckin.

They fly through the forest, breaking branches and tumbling trees like dominos. Tangled limbs land on the snow a few feet from my position. I cringe as Sebastian punches Breckin, but Breckin returns the punch as though it was nothing. Back and forth they struggle. They’re indestructible beings, fighting a cage match neither looks to win.

“Will she join you?” Sebastian drawls when they part, stalking each other. His blue eyes look past Breckin. “Will she turn her back on her calling for you?”

My stomach drops. Phantom butterflies within my chest flit about, tugging me toward Breckin while, at the same time, holding me back.

“You don’t know?” Sebastian laughs. “He didn’t tell you.”

Is he talking to me or Breckin? My question goes unasked as Breckin’s wing lifts, blocking my view, and more voices shout from above.

“Vivie, move back,” Breckin orders above the others.

Breathing through the pain of my broken arm, I hide behind a tree. My legs refuse to move farther.

A moment later, a hand cups against my mouth as an arm wraps around my waist from behind.

“It’s me,” Elias says, picking me up off the ground and swiftly moving away from the fight.

“Elias? No. Help Breck. Where are you going?” I claw at his hands. His grip tightens, and I kick at his feet as he runs farther into the forest. He can’t fly—we won’t go far—but he runs with speed. Breckin’s voice fades into the background, and my soul shreds, ripping a sob from my chest. Fear consumes me. “Elias, please. What if something happens to him?”

“His father is here,” he pants, an edge to his voice. Is that bitterness? Elias thinks of Breckin like a son. It’s in his tone. “Hamon will take care of the reaper. Breckin is fine. I need to move you to safety.”

His words make sense, and he is attempting to help, but my body doesn’t listen. I have no control over my reaction. My legs kick, and my head butts against his chest as I flail. A deep-seated knowledge that Breckin is being threatened has awakened, and my soul fights to return to her other half. Elias curses as I lean forward, throwing him off balance, and his arms loosen. Taking advantage, I punch at his arm and jump free of his grip. It was a mistake.

Falling to the ground face first, I land on my stomach, and black, all-consuming pain rips across my arm. Moisture and warmth immediately cover my skin. My sleeve is soaked in blood. I roll to my back, screaming in agony as I push the sleeve up. A bone protrudes through the skin.

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