Chapters (109)
- Half Title
- Dedication
- Books by Sarah J. Maas
- Title Page
- Map
- The Four Houses of Midgard
- Part I: The Hollow
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Part II: The Trench
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Part III: The Canyon
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Chapter Forty-Five
- Chapter Forty-Six
- Chapter Forty-Seven
- Chapter Forty-Eight
- Chapter Forty-Nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-One
- Chapter Fifty-Two
- Chapter Fifty-Three
- Chapter Fifty-Four
- Chapter Fifty-Five
- Chapter Fifty-Six
- Chapter Fifty-Seven
- Chapter Fifty-Eight
- Chapter Fifty-Nine
- Chapter Sixty
- Chapter Sixty-One
- Chapter Sixty-Two
- Chapter Sixty-Three
- Chapter Sixty-Four
- Chapter Sixty-Five
- Chapter Sixty-Six
- Chapter Sixty-Seven
- Part IV: The Ravine
- Chapter Sixty-Eight
- Chapter Sixty-Nine
- Chapter Seventy
- Chapter Seventy-One
- Chapter Seventy-Two
- Chapter Seventy-Three
- Chapter Seventy-Four
- Chapter Seventy-Five
- Chapter Seventy-Six
- Chapter Seventy-Seven
- Chapter Seventy-Eight
- Chapter Seventy-Nine
- Chapter Eighty
- Chapter Eighty-One
- Chapter Eighty-Two
- Chapter Eighty-Three
- Chapter Eighty-Four
- Chapter Eighty-Five
- Chapter Eighty-Six
- Chapter Eighty-Seven
- Chapter Eighty-Eight
- Chapter Eighty-Nine
- Chapter Ninety
- Chapter Ninety-One
- Chapter Ninety-Two
- Chapter Ninety-Three
- Chapter Ninety-Four
- Chapter Ninety-Five
- Chapter Ninety-Six
- Chapter Ninety-Seven
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
The angel’s face was so battered it was barely more than a slab of swollen flesh.
The table leg clattered into a puddle of the angel’s blood as she dove for him, biting down her scream at the burning gash in her thigh. Someone had poured acid onto her skin, her bones.
Unbearable, impenetrable darkness swept through her, blanketing everything within.
But she shoved her hand against the angel’s wound, not allowing herself to feel the wet, torn flesh, the jagged bone of his cleaved sternum. The creature had been eating its way into his heart—
“Phone,” she panted. “Do you have a phone?”
The angel’s white wing was so shredded it was mostly red splinters. But it shifted slightly to reveal the pocket of his black jeans. The square lump in them.
How she managed to pull out the phone with one hand was beyond her. Time was still snagging, speeding and stopping. Pain lanced through her leg with every breath.
But she gripped the sleek black device in her wrecked hands, her red nails almost snapping with the force as she punched in the emergency number.
A male voice answered on the first ring. “Crescent City Rescue—”
“Help.” Her voice broke. “Help.”
A pause. “Miss, I need you to specify where you are, what the situation is.”
“Old Square. River—off the river, near Cygnet Street …” But that was where she lived. She was blocks away from that. Didn’t know the cross streets. “Please—please help.”
The angel’s blood soaked her lap. Her knees were bleeding, scraped raw.
And Danika was
And Danika was
And Danika was
“Miss, I need you to tell me where you are—we can have wolves on the scene in a minute.”
She sobbed then, and the angel’s limp fingers brushed against her torn knee. As if in comfort.
“Phone,” she managed, interrupting the responder. “His phone—track it, track us. Find us.”
“Miss, are you—”
“Track this phone number.”
“Miss, I need a moment to—”
She pulled up the main screen of the phone, clicking through pages in a haze until she found the number herself. “112 03 0577.”
“Miss, the records are—”
“112 03 0577!” she screamed into the phone. Over and over. “112 03 0577!”
It was all she could remember. That stupid number.
“Miss—holy gods.” The line crackled. “They’re coming,” the responder breathed.
He tried to inquire about the injuries on the male, but she dropped the angel’s phone as the drugs pulled her back, yanked her down, and she swayed. The alley warped and rippled.
The angel’s gaze met hers, so full of agony she thought it was what her soul must look like.
His blood poured out between her fingers. It did not stop.
Chapter Six
6
The half-Fae female looked like Hel.
No, not Hel, Isaiah Tiberian realized as he studied her through the one-way mirror in the legion’s holding center. She looked like death.