Soul Resurrected (Sons of Wrath, #2) (62 page)

As strike after strike rocked his bulky frame, his arms trembled under his massive weight.

Should he fall, though, the punishment would begin again, and begging mercy would dishonor Wrath’s name.

Instead, he focused his thoughts on Calla. She’d be safe. The baby would be safe. Even if the pain damned near killed him, it’d be worth it in the end. Nothing mattered more than his woman and the child she carried. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to find some delight in that knowledge—to welcome the jarring buzz that resonated through his bones with each lash. Every flame that danced along his spine meant the freedom of the only woman he’d ever cared about in his life.

One large zap to his back had Logan grunting.

Gasps sounded from the audience.

Yeah, that bad.

The raw burn told Logan The Enforcer’d torn away some of his flesh with that one.

Dizziness settled over Logan.

His insides clenched with every hit, his muscles jittering as the Enforcer flayed his nerves.

His palm slipped but he caught himself.

“Enough! Please!” Calla’s voice came from behind.

Logan wanted to tell her it was okay. To stick it out because, gods, he didn’t trust the bastards and their laws.

Besides, the final judgment still loomed. The punishment was the homestretch.

Tunnel vision had begun to set in, though. Blackness—that old familiar friend—threatened to take him under.

Another lash sizzled across his back, and the distinct smell of burning flesh hit his nose.

Scuffling hit the floor behind him.

“Enough!” Calla’s voice arrived in closer proximity. “By God, I will watch every one of you burn if you kill him!” She sniffled and Logan’s heart clenched that she’d been crying.

A thumping noise reached Logan’s ears, sounds fading in and out. Black fabric appeared in his periphery, and a hand reached out to him, passing over the white boundaries of the circle.

“Logan,” she whispered, “take my hand. Stay with me.”

All he could muster was a twitch of his fingers as the pain paralyzed every nerve in his body. Only the stiffness in his muscles, and shock, kept him balanced on his palms.

“Come away, child. He would want you to let this punishment be carried out. It is his honor at stake.” Cefirina’s voice eased his mind.

As the black fabric disappeared and Calla’s hand slipped away from his view, Logan sent a silent thank you to Cefirina for being there.

Damn, Calla shouldn’t have been subject to such a thing. He reeled from the idea of her having to watch. The female had seen some fucked up things in her life, but nothing quite took the cake like watching a demon get flogged, Verbrizh-style.

Blood splattered beside his flat palms. Logan focused on the drops sliding across the tar. They bubbled with the heat of the floors, the underside of which housed the most dangerous part of the Orcosii Court. Hell’s eternal prison. The pyre where the tortured souls were cast after their punishment.

A long pause with no whipping had Logan’s senses on alert. Had his punishment finally ended?

After fifty lashes, his back probably resembled ground hamburger. For a moment, he remained on all fours as his body scrambled to heal the inflicted damage. His hardest task would be replacing his leathers and walking back to his place before the high demons without appearing as if he wanted to break down and sob like a little girl.

Using all of his strength, he pushed himself from the floor. At the gut-wrenching split of his flesh, he dropped back to his palms, before he pushed off again, crouching until he could straighten to a stand.

Something wet and sloshy slapped the floor behind him. Logan refused to look down at what may have fallen from his back, but stumbled forward, then back, like he’d gotten into the Elysia. Finally catching his balance, he located his pants with slow and awkward movements and slid them carefully up his thighs through the spinning of his mind.

Throughout dressing, he didn’t once look at Calla.
Couldn’t
look at her. Not as weak as he felt at that moment.

Once his leathers had been replaced, Logan staggered his way back to standing before the court. As he swayed on his feet, the sound of his flesh regenerating turned his stomach, like slugs crawling across his wet, blood-soaked skin, and his hearing went mute aside from the constant swishing sound.

He wished he could hide himself from Calla, keep her from seeing the mutilation that’d crimp even the toughest supe’s lip.

The official’s palms rested flat against the bench-top. “It seems the two of you have exchanged blood bond.” His voice sounded distant, as if separated by a wall, and Logan furrowed his brow, focusing to hear. “You obviously survived your punishment. And with the
procurement
of the new evidence provided by Cefirina, I have no choice but to grant full emancipation. I absolve you of your former binding and the charges against mother and child.”

His skull gavel struck, and just like that, Logan’s weakness won, bringing him to his knees.

Free?

Logan clambered awkwardly to his feet again. His body held lightness, as if he walked in dreams. Free from the nightmares that had kept him awake every night since he’d first heard the news about his son. Free from the binding. Free from a past that wouldn’t let him live for the future.

Free.

As if he’d died and been reborn again.

Resurrected from death to start anew.

Cefirina approached.

He lowered his head and knelt before her, taking her hand to his lips. “My lady, a thousand retributions in your name will never repay the gratitude I feel now.”

Her hand gripped his. “Gavin told me about your mother. Do not be upset with him. I can understand
why
you never spoke of this, I only wish that you
had
.”

Logan frowned. He wasn’t upset that his brother had told Cefirina. Gavin had kept his secret safe for over fifty years. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry. I was in the wrong. So very wrong about you. You’re a good man. And you owe me nothing for this. Except … be happy, Logan. That is all I wish for you.” Her eyes softened with a smile. “For once, just be happy.”

A tear streamed down his cheek as he stared up at her. He quickly swiped it away against his shoulder and gave a sharp nod. “This Shadow Walker. What is it?”

“Your Zshula was a bit sloppy.” Cefirina rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Perhaps a newbie. Shadow Walkers are very rare. They are an extension of two bound souls. Be good to yours.” She raised a brow. “They’re supposed to bring luck, among other things.”

Calla approached, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Cefirina’s gown floated as she swung around to face her. “And you, lovely child. Very brave of you to make your presence here. The sign of strong woman. May your delivery be swift and your happiness eternal, as well.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Cefirina rested a hand on Calla’s shoulder. “I’m quite looking forward to meeting the newest addition.” She glanced back at Logan. “He’ll make a fine Wrath,” She said, before continuing on through the doors.

Logan remained on his knees as Calla stepped toward him. He cast his gaze to the floor, almost bowing in front of her. “I understand if you won’t have me after … knowing. I can’t take away the sins of my past. And I won’t blame you for leaving because of it. I’ll still take care of you and the baby. Whatever you need …”

Her silence dared him to tip his head back.

Calla’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Don’t be stupid, demon.” She sniffed, wiping a fallen tear from her cheek. “You can tell me to screw myself. You can even tell me you want nothing to do with me. But leaving
you
isn’t an option.”

Heat spread through his body as his muscles relaxed. Breaths shuddering, he rose to his feet and, with his forehead to hers, he placed her hand against the tattoo scrawled across his chest. “You own my heart, Calla. It’s a damaged, bandaged fuckin’ mess, but it belongs to you, and only you, eternally.” He palmed the back of her head and kissed her so that she’d feel his undying passion for her—so hard her trapped moan purred against his lips.

The world spun out of control, and smack in the center of the whirling images stood Calla.

What Logan felt for her could have bordered on madness—an obsession that would kill him, but fuck it all—she belonged to him. “Gods, woman. You are everything to me.”

“Are you … in pain?” Her fingertips drifted lightly across his chest.

Logan smiled. “Not anymore.”

“That was the most awful thing I’ve ever seen. I wanted to tear that Enforcer apart in front of all these witnesses.” She kissed his chest, over an old scar. “When they heal, I’ll kiss every one.”

Logan’s heart damn near burst. “You’ve already healed every scar.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her lips. “You own me forever, Calla.” Bowing his head to her shoulder, he whispered, “Just tell me I can keep you this time.”

“Come on, demon.” Calla stroked his cheek. “Let’s go home.”

CHAPTER 48

Logan kicked the door to his bedroom open as he carried Calla in his arms with their lips still fused. Her hands very strategically avoided his back as he stepped inside and backed her into the closing door.

Yeah, his wounds still burned like a motherfucker but not even they would keep him from having his female.

“Are you okay?” he breathed.

“Yeah.” Her voice held urgency before she pressed his lips back where they belonged. “You? How’s your back?” she asked against his mouth.

“All good. I have to know. How’d you do it? That was some dangerous shit you pulled down there.”

“Anna. The woman’s a pretty slick thief. Swiped an official’s ring and cloak. It was dangerous.” Logan had to fight for focus on her words over the magic of her fingers playing in his hair. “I had an enforcer watching my every move and, at first … didn’t think I’d be able to get the blood past him.”

“Blood?”

“Anna had a synthetic made from hairs embedded in the cloak.”

“Gods, Calla. They would’ve taken you to the prison.” Logan grimaced at the thought of her trapped in the same hell. “Or worse. And then shit would’ve really hit the fan. I’d slaughter any being that tried to hurt you, and then we’d both be livin’ it up in Obsidius.”

She grabbed both sides of his face. “But, had I not been there, you’d have never proven the blood bond on your own.”

His brow wrinkled, lips downturned. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Not bad for a prissy princess, huh?”

Fierceness burned in his eyes as Logan gripped a fistful of her hair. “You’re no princess, you’re my fucking
queen
.” He claimed her mouth in an intense kiss. “These past few days … I thought we weren’t going to make it. I was certain you were going to leave.”

“I wanted to. But I decided I couldn’t let you stand there alone.” She gave a demure smile. “Queen
protects
the king, remember?”

He buried his face in her neck and sucked in her scent—the only one that had the power to bring him to his knees.

“What is it that you say in Demonic again? For love?”

“Du amec.”

“Yes.” She flung her arms around his neck, rose up to her tiptoes, and whispered in his ear, “Du amec, Logan.”

The words never carried so much beauty and meaning as they did right then, rolling off her tongue.

Down went the shield. Logan could almost hear the sound of metal screeching as it bent and curled open, leaving his heart gaping and pounding.

Logan lifted her into his arms, gripping the back of her head as he kissed her, before setting her down on her feet.

Lost in a tranquil blue, he paused for a moment, studying his female.

Calla—sweet serenity in the flesh—the only female who’d ever broken his exterior, smashed it into a thousand pieces, and found the soft stuff not even he knew made up his insides.

He’d been used by women all his life, beaten into thinking he’d never be worth more than what his cock could do. Before him stood a woman who’d proven them wrong—proven
him
wrong—and that blue crashed over those cruel memories like a tidal wave that left him floating in sheer bliss.

“How much do you like this shirt?” he asked her.

“Just a shirt.” Her fingers massaged his nape.

“Good.” He ripped the front of her T-shirt right down the middle. “I’ll buy you a new one. In fact, I’ll buy you a hundred of the damn things just so I can rip them off of you when I feel like it.”

She seized his mouth and Logan allowed himself to melt into her kiss.

Heaven.

Perhaps those lashes had killed him after all, because he couldn’t imagine his life as perfect as in that moment.

CHAPTER 49

Calla’s eyes fluttered open. She gasped and drew back, as the dark figure standing before her slowly came into sharp focus.