Descent, page 9
“He’s not here,” Raven spat. “He’s not real.”
“He is,” I said, even through the stars blinking across my vision. “He loves… He loves all of us.”
“God, fuck, shut the fuck up!” Her scream broke like something fracturing from the inside out. “He loves Lucifer? Really? And the demons? And he sure as shit doesn’t love me. If He did, why the hell would He…”
She trailed off, shaking her head like she was trying to outrun the thoughts. It hurt to look at her then. Not because I was afraid—but because I saw how lost she was.
“No,” she growled. “You know what? No.”
But I still believed. Even as the blood ran down my chin and my body screamed from every nerve. I believed. For both of us.
She raised her hand again, and for a moment, she didn’t look like a person anymore—just fury made flesh. Her features twisted, ugly with rage, monstrous in the flickering light. I braced myself, knowing the pain was coming. But before her fist could land against my already aching skin, a curtain of darkness pulled me under.
My last thought wasn’t fear. It was a prayer—quiet, desperate, and full of hope. Please, give me strength. And please… keep Walton safe.
The world slipped away, and all that remained was the echo of Raven’s rage, the thundering silence of pain, and the tiniest, stubborn flicker in my heart that whispered I would survive this. Somehow. Someway.
I wasn’t done yet.
I drifted back into the waking world on a wave of pain. Voices floated above me, muffled at first, like they were speaking through water. My head throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and the sharp, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I didn’t dare move. Not yet.
“…roughed her up. Can’t sell her now. Not until she’s healed. Rex don’t like his girls tainted or touched.” Skull’s voice was unmistakable—gruff, irritated, and terrifying in its coldness.
“I thought you said you wanted—” Raven’s voice cut in, sharp and angry, as it always seemed to be.
“That was just to fire the demon up,” Skull interrupted. “You think I’m going to pass up demon glass? Fuck no, I ain’t. And she could get us a fuck ton.”
I kept my breathing shallow and still, feigning unconsciousness. Every part of my body throbbed, each limb heavy and sore. I was too weak to fight, but not too weak to listen.
“You said I could—”
“You don’t lay a finger on her, Raven,” Skull snapped. “Or I’ll fucking sell your pussy for half a shard. Don’t think I won’t.”
His words turned my stomach. As much as I loathed Raven for what she’d done, the idea of her being reduced to something so vile and transactional… I hated that I felt pity for her. But I did. No one deserved that.
“Let’s see the damage,” Skull said.
Footsteps approached—each one heavy and deliberate, like he wanted me to hear. Like he wanted to make sure I knew who held the power here.
“I know you’re awake, Bunker Rat,” he said, his voice now inches away. “No use pretending.”
I let my lashes lift slowly, squinting against the light that poured into the room like it had something to prove. One eye still refused to open. Skull loomed over me, all harsh lines and old scars, his expression twisted into a sneer that made my skin crawl.
“Look at you,” he muttered, reaching out to grab my chin. His fingers were rough, and the pressure hurt as he turned my face side to side like I was some broken thing he was appraising. “Raven did quite a number on you.”
I flinched but held back the cry I wanted to make. I wouldn’t give him that. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“You’re lucky,” he said, shoving my face away with a grunt. “Rex has plans for you.”
I forced myself upright, each movement a battle of its own. My throat burned when I spoke. “What plans?”
My voice came out raw, shaky, but it was still mine.
Skull laughed—a dark, cruel sound. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
He stood and turned, tossing a look at Raven over his shoulder. She was there, in the corner, half-shadowed. Her eyes were on me. But for once, I couldn’t read what was in them.
Pain still ruled my body. But my mind—my heart—was clear.
I wasn’t broken.
Not yet.
And not forever.
“Remember what I said,” Skull growled toward Raven, warning in every syllable. Then he looked back at me with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You stay quiet and behave, Bunker Rat. Maybe you’ll survive long enough to find out.”
The chill in his tone made my stomach twist.
He turned back to Raven, his eyes narrowing like a predator’s. “He’s supposed to come by in three days. That should be enough time to heal. And don’t fuck around, Raven.”
“How do we even know she’s still pure?” Raven sneered, the bitterness in her voice sharp enough to cut stone.
“I’m sending in a doctor tomorrow to check her out,” Skull said without pause. “That’ll only add to her value. Knowing the demon, he might have tasted her. Can’t be too sure. Seemed awful protective of her.”
My stomach turned. The way they spoke about me—like a thing, a product, a prize—made my skin crawl.
“So, what, just leave her here?” Raven barked. Her fury surged, raw and vicious. “After she killed my men? After everything?”
“She’ll get hers soon enough, worse than anything we could have done,” Skull said, waving her off like a nuisance. “Patience, Raven. Don’t make me hurt you.”
And just like that, he was gone. The door swung shut with a heavy clunk, sealing me back into the dim, blood-scented room.
“You’re so goddamn lucky, Bunker Whore,” Raven hissed, stepping into the silence he left behind. “I wanted to break you slowly.”
I pushed myself up with effort, muscles trembling. Pain lanced through my side like lightning, but I managed to rest on one elbow. I looked at her—not with hate, but with something else. Something softer. Sadder.
“Why do you stay?” I asked.
Raven blinked, thrown. “What?”
I coughed, and blood slipped down my chin. It didn’t matter. “Why do you stay?” I asked again, quieter now. “Why not… leave? Why… why let him treat you like that?”
For a second, her mask slipped. Her posture faltered. Then the rage returned, burning behind her eyes.
“You think I have a choice?” she snapped. “I can’t survive out here alone. No one can. You need… you need… Why should I even bother explaining? You’re too fucking stupid to see it.”
The insult landed—but not like she wanted it to. I didn’t feel anger. Only aching sorrow for her. I could see it now, so clearly. The cage she lived in was bigger than mine. And she’d stopped looking for a way out long ago.
“I see more than you think,” I whispered. My voice was just breath now, trembling and bruised.
Something flickered in her eyes then—something fragile and real. Pain. Maybe even longing. But just as quickly, it vanished behind a wall of fury.
She turned from me without a word, stormed toward the door, and slammed it behind her.
I was alone again.
The silence wrapped around me, heavy and intimate. I let myself breathe—slow, steady, through the pain. My body hurt in ways I couldn’t name. But I was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting.
And Walton… I had to believe he was out there, searching for me.
So I would wait. I would heal.
And when the moment came—I would not be helpless.
Chapter 10
Walton
I carried Silence for hours, her weight like a damn curse slung over my shoulders. Every step, she dragged on me—bone-heavy, fur slick with blood and sweat. She used to be all fire and fury, eyes glowing like coals. Now? Just pain and weakness in a heap of fading muscle. Every labored breath she took stabbed through the silence, reminding me of what she was now—a burden.
My hand drifted to the hilt of my knife. Steel was cold and comforting. It’d be quick. Mercy, even. She wouldn’t feel a thing. Hell, she’d earned that much.
But then I saw Everly’s face in my head—too soft, too damn bright for a world like this. Her eyes, big and pleading, saying something she didn’t even have to speak out loud.
Don’t give up on her.
I gritted my teeth so hard it hurt. “Damn you,” I muttered, unsure if I meant Silence or Everly or both.
I kept going. Each step felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, my boots sinking into sand and dust and old regrets. I hated this. Hated caring. Hated that Everly’s voice was now something I measured my choices against. That damn girl had clawed her way into my skull, and now everything felt heavier.
Silence whimpered. Just a little sound, but it gutted me more than it should’ve.
“Shut up,” I growled, adjusting my hold on her. Blood slicked my forearm. She was slipping. Not much left in her. Part of me respected the Hellhound—she’d torn through Skull’s men like paper. But part of me? Part of me just wanted to dump her and be done with it.
But I didn’t.
Because Everly would never forgive me. And worse? I wasn’t sure I’d forgive myself either.
Sun dipped low behind the dunes, shadows stretching long across the wasteland. My legs were screaming, my spine felt like it might snap in half, and still—I didn’t stop.
Not until I had to.
I dropped to my knees with a hiss, lowering Silence to the ground. She stirred weakly, her breath shallow, eyes just barely glowing. There was a flicker of something there—recognition. Trust.
Shit.
I ran a hand down her side, feeling her ribs beneath the fur. “You’re lucky she cares about you,” I muttered. “Otherwise, you’d be a corpse right now.”
But even as I said it, I knew better. Even if Everly had never looked at Silence once, I wouldn’t have let her die.
Because I was that idiot now.
I looked out over the horizon, jaw clenched tight. Everly was out there. Somewhere in Skull’s grasp. And Skull didn’t kill pretty things—not when they could fetch a price. He was scum, but he was strategic.
Still… if he found out who she was—who her sister was?
I felt the heat rise behind my eyes, a low rumble building in my chest. She wasn’t just some Bunker Rat anymore. She was the sister of Michael’s Bride. Untouched. Pure. Worth her weight in gold.
And Skull?
He’d skin the world to sell her for the highest bid.
I fisted the dirt beside me, grinding my knuckles into the earth to keep from roaring.
“I’m coming for you, angel,” I murmured, my voice more threat than promise. “And if he lays a fucking hand on you, I’ll burn every last bastard between us to ash.”
Then I looked at Silence—broken, barely breathing, but still alive.
“Just hang on.”
This was all my fault.
Should’ve kept my guard up. Should’ve been faster. Stronger. Should’ve never let myself care in the first place. The second I did, the second I let her in—it all went to shit.
Now Everly was in the hands of a monster, and it was up to me to clean it up.
I looked down at Silence, her breath shallow but steady. She blinked up at me with those dim red eyes, something like understanding flickering behind them. She’d make it. She was a fighter.
But she wasn’t my mission.
Everly was.
I rolled my shoulders, shaking the ache out of them, the ghost of her weight still clinging to my arms. My eyes swept across the wasteland—dry, broken, endless. Skull’s territory was out there. Marauders. Traps. God knew what else. Didn’t matter.
I’d seen worse. I was worse.
Nothing out there could scare me more than the thought of Everly locked up, alone, with Raven and Skull circling like vultures.
I moved forward; the anger simmering deep in my gut. Not explosive. Not yet. Just that slow, building burn—the kind that levels cities when it finally lets go.
Skull had no idea what was coming.
I stopped again, kneeling just long enough to set Silence down gently on the cracked earth. My muscles screamed from the relief. I yanked my canteen from the pack and fumbled the cap off with trembling fingers. The water was warm, stale, but it slid down my throat like salvation.
“Here,” I muttered, pouring a bit into my palm and offering it to her.
Silence lapped it up, slow but determined. She wasn’t done yet. Neither was I.
“You hang in there,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if it was for her or me. Maybe both.
I took another swig, wiped my mouth, and stared out across the broken horizon. Skull’s camp sat three miles ahead, its silhouette faint against the dimming sky. I’d hit it by dusk—worst time to approach, but perfect if you’re looking to break in and cause hell.
My jaw clenched. The thought of Everly in that place made something deep inside me twist and curl with fury.
Skull was a bastard, but Raven?
“Cunt,” I muttered.
She wasn’t predictable. She didn’t operate on logic. She was all fire and hate and damage. The kind that burned everything just to feel the heat.
And she hated Everly. Not for anything real, but for what she was—clean, bright, untouched. All the things Raven had probably never been allowed to be.
I didn’t trust her. Not to keep her cool. Not to keep Everly alive.
That didn’t sit right with me.
And I was about to do something about it.
I tightened my grip on the canteen, the rough plastic biting into my palm like it knew I was stalling. Every damn second I stood here was another second Everly was in danger. My brain ticked like a broken clock—plans, backup plans, ways in, ways out—all of them half-formed and colored in blood.
Silence let out a low whine beside me, her red eyes catching mine. There was something there—understanding, maybe. Or just shared exhaustion. I reached down and scratched behind her ears, my fingers brushing over blood-matted fur.
“We’ll get her back,” I muttered. “One way or another.”
That promise burned in my gut like coals.
I screwed the cap back on and shoved the canteen into my pack. Every joint screamed when I straightened up, but I ignored it. Pain was nothing. I’d bled worse for less.
What mattered now was Everly—and making damn sure Raven didn’t get her pound of flesh.
I walked.
Each step carved a path through dust and regret. Silence limped alongside me, slow but steady. Good sign. She wasn’t done yet.
The world around us was a corpse: cracked earth, skeletal trees that had forgotten what green was, clouds that loomed like threats but never delivered. My boots crunched with every step, the sound hollow and sharp against the dead quiet.
Too quiet.
I never thought I’d miss that girl’s voice. Off-key humming, constant babbling—questions about everything. She used to make me want to scream just so I could hear something else.
Now?
Now that silence crawled under my skin like a parasite.
Fuck, I thought. I miss her.
That was dangerous.
I should leave her. Let her go. Call this whole damn thing what it was: a tactical error. She’d been a distraction from the second I laid eyes on her. All that sunshine and faith—no armor, no claws. Just this… unshakable belief that the world could still be saved.
I should cut my losses. Burn the bridge and forget she ever existed.
But I couldn’t.
Because somewhere along the line, that damn girl slipped past every defense I had. Crawled into a place I thought was long dead and planted herself there like she belonged.
And now I was stuck.
Every instinct screamed to turn around, to abandon the weakness she’d become. But there was something deeper—louder. Some ugly, primal thing in me that wouldn’t let go.
I kept walking.
And with every step, her face flickered through my mind. The grit in her eyes when she raised a gun for the first time. The way she laughed even when the world was crumbling. That soft look she gave me like I wasn’t a monster.
Damn it, Everly.
She broke through.
And there was no fixing that now.
Silence nudged my leg with her nose, dragging me out of my thoughts. Her eyes met mine—tired but clear, asking the question neither of us wanted to voice.
Are we still going?
I gave her a short nod and kept moving. No words. No hesitation. Just forward.
Every step felt like wading through cement. My body screamed for rest, screamed for reason. I’d been a lone wolf too long to forget the cost of attachment—and yet here I was, heading straight into hell for a girl who wouldn’t have lasted two days out here without me.
But I couldn’t stop.
The encampment peeked over the horizon now. Barely visible, but it was there—Skull’s playground, a nest of violence and rot. I rolled my shoulders, forcing the tension out before it froze my joints. The closer I got, the tighter everything wound.
This wasn’t just about vengeance anymore.
This was personal.
I stopped long enough to fish out a piece of jerky from my pack. Silence perked up immediately, and I handed it over without a word. She devoured it, tail flicking once in weak satisfaction.
I didn’t feel hungry. Food had become an afterthought, a formality. I chewed through a piece anyway, knowing I’d need the strength. Fuel for the fire.
The ground changed the deeper I got into Skull’s reach—more traps, more silence, more places to die without ever being seen. My eyes swept the path ahead. Wire, pressure plates, shallow pits… I knew how these bastards worked. I’d set traps like this myself, back when I thought survival was the only thing worth living for.
Silence limped along beside me. She was slower, still sore, but she moved with purpose. Stubborn damn thing. Everly would smile seeing her alive. That thought made something twist in my chest. Something sharp.
Stop thinking about her.
