The sleep was heavy, but it was not peaceful,she didn't dream at first but then she was back at the edge of the white cliffs in Aetheria. Her brother Caelum was laughing, pushing her toward the edge. He was telling her that girls without wings were meant to hit the ground. But every time she was about to crash, the dream changed. The air became hot. The rocks turned into large, black hands that caught her.
She woke up with a jerk. Her neck was stiff. For a second, she didn't know where she was. Then, she felt the hard chest under her cheek and the smell of smoke. Athan was still there. He had not moved an inch. He was leaning back against the log, his eyes closed, but his body felt tight, like a bow ready to snap.
The fire had died down to glowing purple embers. The valley was very quiet. Celeste felt awkward. She was practically draped over this man like a blanket. She tried to pull away slowly, inching her shoulder back. She felt like her face was too hot.
Suddenly, Athan's eyes snapped open. He didn't blink. He just looked dangerous.
"Stay down," he whispered.
Before she could ask why, a high-pitched whistle sliced through the air. Something hit the log right where Celeste's head had been. It was an arrow. The shaft was black and wet with something that smelled like poison.
Shouting erupted from the darkness. Shadows moved fast between the rocks. These were not Athan's soldiers. They were smaller, faster, and they wore rags. They came screaming out of the red dust.
"Rebels!" a demon soldier yelled.
Athan stood up. He didn't reach for a sword. He didn't need one. He stepped in front of Celeste, blocking her. His obsidian wings unfurled. They were huge. They looked like giant blades of glass.
Celeste scrambled backward on her hands and knees. She hit a rock and huddled behind it. Her heart was beating so fast she felt dizzy. Why are they attacking? she thought. They are demons. He is their King. She saw a rebel jump onto a nearby soldier. They rolled in the dirt. It was messy and loud. Celeste felt sick.
"Take the angel!" a voice shrieked. "Kill the peace treaty!"
She realized they were talking about her. They didn't want the peace. They wanted her dead. She felt a cold wave of terror. She wasn't a princess anymore. She was just a target.
She heard a footstep right behind her rock.
She turned her head. A rebel demon stood there. He was thin and had gray skin covered in sores. He looked at Celeste and grinned, showing rows of needle-teeth.
"Little bird," he hissed. He reached out a hand. His claws were long and dirty.
Celeste tried to scream, but her throat felt like it was full of sand. The rebel grabbed her hair. He pulled her head back so hard she saw stars.
"The King paid too much for you," the rebel laughed. He raised a jagged knife over her chest. "Let's see if you bleed gold."
Celeste stared at the knife. She didn't want to die in the red dirt. She felt a strange heat building in her chest, right where the Demon Scroll was hidden. It wasn't the heat of the fire. It was a dark, pulsing weight.
No, she thought. Not like this.
Athan appeared like a bolt of dark lightning. He didn't just hit the rebel; he destroyed him. He grabbed the rebel's arm and snapped it. The knife fell into the dust. Athan grabbed the rebel by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
Athan's face didn't look human anymore. His gold eyes were glowing red.
"You touched her," Athan said. His voice sounded like the ground was cracking open.
He closed his hand. There was a sickening crack. He dropped the rebel like trash.
But the fight wasn't over. More rebels were pouring into the camp. They were coming from the ridges, throwing spears and fire-bottles. The valley was filled with the smell of burning hair and blood. Athan's soldiers were fighting hard, but they were being surrounded.
"Protect the perimeter!" Athan roared.
Three rebels jumped toward Athan at once. Celeste watched, paralyzed. Athan moved with a speed that didn't seem possible. He swung his obsidian wing. The edge was sharper than any razor. It sliced through the air, and the rebels were thrown back.
One rebel, a female with large horns, managed to get around Athan. She swung a heavy iron chain. It caught Athan across the shoulder, tearing through his leather armor and drawing dark, thick blood.
Athan didn't even flinch. He just looked at the blood on his shoulder, then back at the woman. He looked bored, which was even scarier than him being angry.
"My turn," he said.
He lunged. The fight became a blur of violence. Athan was ripping through them, but more kept coming. They were like ants. Celeste stayed huddled against the rock, her hands over her ears to block out the sounds of breaking bones.
A spear landed inches from her foot. She jumped, moving further into the shadows. She looked at Athan. He was surrounded by five men now. He was punching, kicking, and using his wings like shields. He looked like a god of war, but he was bleeding from several cuts now.
"Athan!" she screamed, though she didn't know why. She just didn't want him to stop.
He heard her. He turned his head for a split second, and a rebel used the opening to slash at his thigh. Athan growled, grabbed the rebel's head, and slammed it into the ground.
The valley was a mess of fire and screaming. Athan stood over the pile of bodies, his chest heaving. He looked at Celeste. He wasn't coming to comfort her yet. He couldn't.
"Get to the horse!" he yelled at her.
Celeste looked at the black mare, which was whinnying and kicking at a rebel nearby. She looked at the chaos. She didn't think she could move.
Athan saw her hesitation. He grabbed a stray sword from the ground and threw it. It pinned a rebel to a tree right behind her.
"Celeste! Move!"
She scrambled toward the horse, tripping over the red dust. The fight was still raging all around her. Swords were clashing, and the air was hot with demon magic. She reached the mare, but her hands were shaking too much to grab the reins.
Athan was moving toward her now, cutting a path through the rebels. He looked terrifying. He was covered in so much blood he looked like he had been dipped in it.
He reached her and shoved her toward the saddle. He didn't wait. He looked at the shadows in the trees where more eyes were glowing.
"They won't stop," he muttered.
He turned to his soldiers, his voice echoing like thunder. "Burn the valley! Leave nothing alive!"
He looked at Celeste. His face was splattered with red. He reached up and touched her cheek with a blood-stained thumb. It left a dark smear on her pale skin.
"Don't look back," he whispered.