Through Flame and Blade

Ch. 36 Hurt You

*Chiara

What Chiara didn't say to Logan was that if her brother, Ythaniel failed her, then against all reason and odds and her understanding, Logan had saved her. Was still saving her.

He had been with her in the dark, through the pain, in the dungeon playing games, in the halls fighting his own kind, and keeping her alive.

She owed him her life, but more, she gave him her heart.

She could never tell him, though.

Something invisible brushed Chiara's shoulder.

Cold washed over her. Her breath caught in her chest and every muscle clenched.

"Logan," she gasped.

Icy fingers found her face, her arms, her wings, worming their way into her flesh through muscle and bone. Suddenly they stopped and she was falling forward into a sprint to escape whatever phantom horror had touched her.

"Chiara," Loga called.

In an instant her caught up to her. He put his hand, warm and living, on her bicep, tugging to slow her down. "It's a guard in the hall. It's a guard, but they can't hold you."

"There are demon ghost guards in here? What the fuck?"

"A regular guard, but we are all in our own minds at the same time as in the hall. You and I came in together, so we share the space. But they are in a different space than us and they can't catch you."

"That thing nearly stopped my heart, and you tell me it's just a guard who can't catch me? What about the doors? Can they block the doors? Because I refuse walk through one of those things."

"The doors are in our own minds.

She groaned in frustration. This hall, this huge, endless theater grated on her nerves. The laughter and catcalls from her audience, the dark edge of the endless stage, the light, the fucking spotlight that blinded her.

This hall was a reflection of herself?

No. She was an angelic warrior. This could not be her mind.

Snorting laughter rang out from her audience.

"Fuck you!" she yelled at them.

They jeered and shouted insults right back.

She drew her fake sword. She would show them—she was queen here!

At that thought, her costume suddenly changed. Her fake armor turned into an iron sided corset over a flowing, faux-satin gown. A heavy crown weighed her head down.

She yanked it off and hurled it into the darkness beyond the stage. "No! We are not doing this."

She tore the sleeves off the dress, then the fluffy skirt, whirling on Logan as she ripped. "Get us the fuck out of here already."

"It's not that easy in Pride. You have to face yourself before the doors appear."

"What does that even mean?"

"Fear, doubt, weakness, vulnerability, these things are all masked by Pride. You have to face them in order to break free of Pride. That's why so many humans get trapped in here, wandering the stage. Although, some love it, I've heard."

"I am Chiara, Light Bearer, and I don't fucking care what Pride—"

He grabbed her face and drew her in for a kiss, stealing the breath from her lungs. "I'm tired of holding myself back around you."

There was a violence brewing in her heart that grew with every passing minute in hell, and it careened in response to Logan's words.

Desire spiked in her belly. Yes, she wanted him again. She wanted him now. With the strange cooing noises of her imaginary audience in the background, she melted into his crushing arms, melding her body to his. Carnal need blazed in her core.