Frosted Torment (Marked Mortals Saga #1)

Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

I closed my eyes, feeling a torrent of heat surging from my core to my fingertips as I stretched my hands outward.

“Bring it, you devil scumbag!” My lips curled back in a snarl, teeth grinding against each other.

As I summoned the energy within me, rough hands gripped my arms like iron chains. My rage boiled under captivity. The audacity of Vallen to prevent me from ending Vincent ignited the fire within me, like molten rage.

With a violent jerk, I slammed my head backward toward his face while driving a fierce kick to his shin. He didn’t flinch; instead, he hoisted me effortlessly off the ground. My heart pounded with terror and rage as he lifted me like a ragdoll. Dangling helplessly in his grasp hammered home one grim truth—I was outmatched.

Vallen’s voice thundered through me—each syllable crashing like an earthquake. “Apartment now!” The command left an echoing ache in every bone .

My body hummed, and an unexpected surge of energy coursed through me. The bracelet on my wrist pulsed rhythmically under my skin, each pulse faster than the previous one—an ominous countdown ticking away. My mind instinctively focused on the image of my apartment—the familiar haven where I had spent countless evenings in silent solitude.

It was a stark contrast to the chaotic whirlwind that had now become my life—a life that felt foreign and detached from the person I once was. Once again, Vallen had invaded my mind, and this time, I was powerless to resist. As the searing pain in my wrist swelled, images of my living room from every angle and corner flashed in my head.

Orange couch.

Record Player.

Dust Bunny.

Suddenly, it felt as if the solid ground beneath me had given way, replaced by an abyss that sent my stomach spiraling into a free fall. Then, as abruptly as it all began, it stopped.

My eyes snapped open, and I found myself sprawled on the carpet of my living room floor. Flipping over, I blinked rapidly, trying to process a nauseating feeling bubbling in my throat. A feeling all too familiar when I escaped the Lurker demon the night after my birthday. A time when I had no idea what waited for me beyond my bookstore job and my best friends.

Best Friends .

Doubling over, everything in the depths of me came up until dry heaves were all that remained on my carpet.

“Noa,” Vallen stated with a hint of suspicion in his voice, looming over me. “The patio door is open. ”

I sat up and heaved again and gasped for air. “I hate you,” I muttered while glaring toward the patio.

Embracing my knees tightly, I met his gaze. “I may have forgotten to close it. People know about my bunny, so they usually don’t pay attention,” I confessed.

He peered out onto the patio while I savored the comforting scent of home enveloping me. Everything seemed undisturbed, yet a subtle unease lingered within me. I rushed to the patio, my heart pounding in my chest, fearing the Baneful or Vincent had snatched her away.

But nestled in her box, slept Dust Bunny, blissfully unaware of the upheaval that had unfolded since I’d last seen her. Relief flooded through me, and I couldn’t help but give her a soft smile and a scratch on her head.

When I walked back inside, Vallen was draping towels from my dryer over the spot where I had vomited.

“Why are you doing that?” I inquired, taken aback by his kindness.

With a weary sigh, he replied, “It’s just a towel to conceal it.”

Running my hand through my disheveled hair, attempting to regain composure, I found my apartment unchanged yet strangely different. A weightiness hung in the air, almost suffocating. The whirlwind of recent events left my head swimming in a sea of emotions. Guilt being at the top of the list.

Lex, Baz, and my grandmother were all dead now, and I couldn’t stop it from happening. Vincent and Maros had me on a hit list until they captured me, and everything in me wanted to kill the one angel standing in the middle of my living room. But he was too powerful.

Even with his essence flowing through me, I couldn’t defeat Vallen. The power he’d given me was fading fast, and I knew Callum’s was already gone. Accepting the inevitable, I resigned myself to my fate.

“You can have them.” I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow at me and stood up, his head nearly reaching the bathroom door frame.

I opened the freezer with a creak and pulled out a bottle of peppermint vodka. Setting both items down on the counter with a resounding clank, I shot him a deadly glare.

“Take these fucking secrets and be done with it,” I sneered, forcing a fake smile. “Now, I need a drink. And if you say one thing about it not being good for me or whatever, I swear I’ll find a way to stab you.”

Vallen glanced around my dimly lit apartment before sinking into the sagging couch cushions. “You do what you need to do,” he remarked calmly as if this were all normal.

The soft hum of the refrigerator underscored our silence, blending with the faint traffic noise outside. My fingers brushed against the cold glass of vodka, its chill almost biting—a sharp contrast to my frayed nerves.

I took a shot and let the peppermint punish my senses. The sharp mint flavor hit my tongue first, followed by the burning alcohol that made me wince. Then it melted into warmth. After taking two more, I eyed him curiously as he continued to stare at me.

His composed demeanor irritated me more than it should have—the epitome of indifference amidst chaos—while everything inside me felt like it was unraveling. I tried desperately to hold together some semblance of sanity. He seemed satisfied with my decision, but he was also still shirtless. And as much as it stirred something in me, it was wrong, and I needed to find him something to wear.

“Okay,” I whispered sharply and set the glass on the counter louder than necessary. “I know I have something around here for you to put on so you don’t look like you just left a frat party.”

Creases formed between his eyebrows as I stalked toward the clothes hamper, vodka bottle in hand.

“Too many men are in and out of your life,” he declared, not an ounce of emotion in his voice.

“It’s not a concern of yours,” I quipped, taking a swig from the bottle. “Never has been and never will be. Understand?”

“You deserved better, Noa,” he admitted, then went back to studying the room I once called home.

A hollow pit formed in my stomach. Ivy spoke the same words to me a few days ago in this same spot. I didn’t believe it then, but she was right.

I inched toward the man who made me just so I could die and shoved a hoodie and sweatpants into his chest. He didn’t move as I challenged him. After drinking down a few more gulps of vodka, I launched the bottle into the kitchen, glass shattering across the floor.

“Maybe if your goddamn family weren’t a bunch of fuckwads and you hadn’t stolen my soul, I would stand a chance,” I seethed. Then, my knees gave out, and I dropped to the floor. “I sure as hell deserve better. My poor mother deserved so much better!”

He swallowed hard as his green eyes danced with bursts of gold, and my apartment rumbled when he spoke. “I will not apologize for trying to save the human race and all the other worlds out there,” Vallen stated, his tone composed. “You and your family are a microscopic issue in the bigger scheme of things. I was doing my job.”

“What about Lex? Or Baz, huh?” Sobs came in waves now as he watched me crumble into oblivion. “Sasha? Ivy? Vincent made me kill my own grandmother, Vallen!”

He sat on the floor next to me, but maintained a respectful distance. “That is war,” Vallen explained, his words measured and logical. “The sooner you grasp war is never-ending, and there will always be collateral damage, the better you will handle this.” His voice carried a hint of regret as I lay on my side with my hands under my face and watched him now. He released a long sigh. “When you’re called, you do what’s necessary, Noa, and I’d rather lose a few angels and humans than watch complete evil destroy your world and mine.”

Tears streamed down my face as I sniffled and wiped my nose on the arm of my shirt. I rolled onto my back and looked up at Vallen. “You wouldn’t let me end him,” I accused, my voice thick with bitterness.

Vallen’s expression softened slightly as he turned to face me. He leaned over, his breath hot against my cheek as he spoke. “Because I will not allow him the satisfaction of taking your life,” he growled.

I turned away from him, facing the other direction now. “Because you want to do it,” I spat, my words laced with venom. “To be the hero and watch as my life slips away.”

He delicately brushed the hair out of my face, his touch sending tingles up my neck, causing my hair to stand on end. “I take no pleasure in having to kill you, princess,” he whispered. “ But I promise you won’t suffer. I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”

A sob escaped my throat as tears continued to fall. He truly believed he was doing me a favor.

“Every girl’s dream, right?” I managed to choke out through sobs, unable to hold back bitter laughter at the absurdity of it all.

What did he know about humans or their dreams? His job was all that mattered. Whether he didn’t know what to say or he didn’t have the nerve, he sat there letting the silence speak for him. The quiet unnerved me, so I stood to face my bathroom and took a deep breath.

“I need a shower,” I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand. As I stood, I snatched up a pair of jeans and a sweater from the top of my laundry basket, then left him sitting on the living room floor.

I closed the door for privacy and cursed the angels and the universe. War. What did I know about war? Nothing, and I was going to die without a chance to fight for anything.

My entire life had been a sham. Standing in my bathroom made me wish Uno and Dos were here, but they hadn’t reached out since Callum’s death. I missed them and how simple my life was before angels ruined it.

I yanked back the shower curtain, expecting nothing but an empty tub. Instead, my heart seized. There, in the tub, lay Ivy. She lay curled up like a discarded doll, bruises painting her skin in grim hues. Her left eye was swollen shut, a grotesque bulge of purple and black. A deep gash ran from her split lip up into her jawline.

Where luxurious white curls once cascaded down her back, now only patches of hair clung to a bloodied scalp. Her once radiant beauty, now marred in purple and blue, lay there, wheezing shallow breaths—a broken shadow of the friend I’d once known.

My hands trembled uncontrollably as I grabbed a towel to drape over Ivy’s violated form. The faint metallic tang of blood mixed with antiseptics churned my stomach. Bile surged up my throat while tears stung my eyes, blurring Ivy’s broken form even further.

Staring at Ivy’s shattered body, it felt like all the air had vanished from the room. A scream—raw and filled with terror—ripped from my throat as my world tilted.

The bathroom door flew open as Vallen rushed in, his eyes wide with alarm. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, taking in the horrific scene before him. “Wait out there,” he ordered, and I ran into the living room, panic tearing at my chest.

Moments later, he emerged carrying Ivy’s limp body in his strong arms. He laid her gently on the couch, his expression fierce.

I shook my head grimly. “She’s not going to make it.”

“I know,” Vallen said, agreeing that there was no hope for her.

I wanted to hold my friend and let her know that everything would be okay. Fear of her crumbling in my hands prevented it. “Why is she here?” I asked.

“Maros could’ve brought her here,” he stated plainly.

I shook my head. “What? That’s ridiculous,” I argued.

“Demons are known to do worse. Even to their own kind, Noa.” Vallen shook his head in frustration. “She joined them, but she loved you, Noa. She didn’t feel there was another choice. They see her as a traitor regardless, and they used her.”

A thousand thoughts raced through my mind as I saw my once-confident and vibrant friend now shattered both physically and spiritually. I knelt beside Ivy, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Despite the pain etched on her features, there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes when she gazed up at me. It was a silent plea for forgiveness, understanding, and perhaps even redemption.

“We should try to clean her up,” I forced out as Vallen retrieved some water and towels.

Together we began to carefully wipe away the crusted blood that covered Ivy’s face and head. I was determined to give my friend as much respect as I could before she died.

“Is there anything you can do to heal her?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t know if Vallen was even willing, but I had to try.

He looked at Ivy with a pained expression, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but once an angel falls for good, there’s no helping them with the essence of another who hasn’t.”

“Fucking Maros,” I cried under my breath as I took Ivy’s hands in mine and kissed them. The anguish in her eyes mirrored the pain gnawing at my own heart. “This is a warning. He’s baiting me.”

As Vallen wiped away the last traces of dirt and blood, I couldn’t help but remember all the good times Ivy and I shared – the laughter, the late-night talks, and dumb drinking games. Now, all that remained was a shell of the person she once was, and it tore me apart.

The soft glow of the evening sun filtered through the window, casting a melancholy light on Ivy’s pale face. Her breathing slowed, her chest rising and falling in a weak rhythm. Then, her eyes fluttered open, unable to focus as they found mine.

“Noa... I’m so sorry,” she rasped, tears shimmering in the corners of her tired eyes.

“Sh, sh, sh,” I whispered. “Don’t talk.”

“I didn’t want it to end like this,” she pressed. “But I had nowhere else to go. I just... I hope you can forgive me one day.”

“Of course. I forgive you, Ivy,” I told her kindly, choking back more sobs.

In the quiet of that moment, she released one last breath and was gone. The little essence that remained left her body, and as it did, her flesh turned to ash, scattering across my couch and the carpet. All that remained was her skeleton.

Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of unbearable loss. A surge of disbelief gripped me as I whispered, “Where are her wings?”

Vallen turned her bones slightly, his gasp echoing the horror in my own heart. Ivy’s wings were cruelly absent, severed from her in a despicable act.

“That sick fuck sawed off her wings,” I sobbed, my voice faltering. “While she was still alive!”

“Most don’t survive past the first wing if it’s done,” Vallen added. “She was strong, Noa. She held on for you.”

I batted away my tears, but the sight of Ivy’s mangled form twisted my stomach. The stench of death was suffocating, and a bitter taste surged up my throat, bile threatening to spill. How could it have come to this? My thoughts spiraled as I tried to piece together what was left of my shattered world.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I fled to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me and locking it. The cold tile floor beneath my bare feet grounded me, a small comfort in the face of overwhelming grief. But I couldn’t stay in there forever. I couldn’t outrun reality.

I stripped off my clothes and turned the water on, rinsing away Ivy’s blood. Then I let the hot spray wash away the ash that clung to my skin, each droplet feeling like a tiny lifeline in a sea of despair. In my cocoon created by the steam and white noise, I forced myself to think about how to move forward, how to survive.

Pulling on the clothes, my body began to feel even hotter now, the secrets pleading to go home. When I emerged, Vallen had changed his clothes, leaving the last remnants of his prison in a pile on the floor. He stood over Ivy’s bones, staring at the ash, his face a clear picture of vengeance.

“We need to get her back to the ranch.” I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “She needs to be buried in the valley.”

“You’ll need to teleport us again,” Vallen murmured beside me, his breath warming my ear as he extended his hand.

“I know,” I choked out and gestured for him to wait. “Hold that thought.”

My stomach churned at the thought of Vincent and his band of fallen angels. Their faces haunted me, reminders of endless agony. As I moved toward the patio, Dust Bunny bounded into the living room, her fur brushing against my ankles.

I scooped her up, cradling her close to my chest. “You’re coming with us,” I whispered fiercely and closed the door .

Vallen’s eyes narrowed at Dust Bunny, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. “She may not survive the trip.”

“She’s mine.” I cupped her tighter to my chest. “She’ll survive.”

He nodded in understanding, then stooped down and lifted Ivy’s bones into his arms. It was a somber sight, but it only served to remind me of how much was at stake. Portaling back to the ranch would be no easy task given my emotional state, but if I channeled the hatred for Vincent and Maros growing inside me, I would get us there.

I placed my hand on Vallen’s forearm and closed my eyes. Focusing on the familiar hum beneath my wrist, its rhythmic pulse invaded my senses as the world around us dissolved into a swirl of colors. When the dizziness subsided, we stood in the middle of camp—a hundred eyes fixed on us—ready to fight.