Trapped

“We played right into Ithil’s trap,” Ginevra said through gritted teeth.

My blood ran cold with fear. They knew who I was, things had just taken a dangerous turn.

“Ginevra, there’s only one way in and out of here,” I whispered urgently, my eyes locked onto the imposing figures of the angel guards.

“Blake,” Ginevra exhaled, his voice laced with grave concern. “You cannot allow them to take you to that altar,” his gaze was distant as he contemplated the dire consequences.

I understood all too well what he meant. It was the very fate I had fought so hard to avoid—the prospect of being bound to that accursed altar, where my soul would be trapped for a century before I could reincarnate once more.

With a swift motion, one of the guards lunged at us, his wings extending to their full span as he soared toward Ginevra. But Ginevra was fast too, by the time I looked at him he had shifted into his demon form. He met the Angel guard mid-air, their clash sending sparks flying.