This week my Sweet Saturday Sample is a continuation from Bonded in Exile. This book is adult and this sample is PG13 for language.
Last week you met Silas and Gnash, Atillian warrior angels trapped on earth. This is a continuation of a flashback Silas is having that gives you some background on their history and introduces Gnash, who will be the main character in the second book of this series. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading and leaving your comments 🙂
“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” Gnash growled, only to have his complaint cut short by a hiss of pain. Silas slid an arm under his back and one under his legs and lifted him from the ground.
“Yeah, I know…Tuck your wing in, will ya? It’s digging into my rib.” Gnash moved his wing and Silas readjusted his hold on his Atillian brother. Gnash’s flesh already burned with fever. The sheen of sweat coating his body made it difficult for Silas to get a solid grip on him.
Five minutes ago, he’d been giving Gnash shit about being scrawny—guess looks were deceiving. This angel was more than a arm load. Solid, lean muscle and sinew constructed every inch of this warrior’s body. He had the reserve to survive this, Silas assured himself—he was doing the right thing here. He glanced down at the angel dying in his arms, and told himself that one more time to assuage the guilt bearing down on him like a hurricane.
Maybe he was a weak, selfish bastard for not putting Gnash out of his misery. He’d have most certainly wanted Gnash to do it for him, and he had no doubt the brother would have too. Gnash had the stomach for this shit, always had, and that’s what made him such a force to be reckoned with. Were the rolls reversed, Gnash would have honored the plea and plunged that dagger right into Silas’s heart. Right before he hunted down that motherfucking snake.
Silas knew he was taking a gamble at best. Even if Gnash survived this, who in the fuck knew what they were gonna get when he came through the other side. He’d been infected with evil, his purity, tainted. Thankfully, Silas had been able to extract most of the poison, but obviously not enough. The crimson glow of his brother’s eyes confirmed that much.
“Rictor!” Silas called as he plowed through the jungle length grass, toward the two towering trees located in the center of Eden. Once he broke through the dense brush and connected with a rock paved path, he doubled timed it toward the two massive Heavenly icons.
“Rictor!” As he called for his counterpart, a black panther leapt out from the grass and landed soundlessly onto the trail, falling into step beside him. “Hey, go get Rictor, would ya?”
The giant cat looked up at him with intelligent, golden eyes, and replied with a throaty growl. With lithe grace, the animal turned around and loped off in the opposite direction. They were almost there—the center of Eden. He spared Gnash another glance and immediately wished he wouldn’t have.
The brother’s jaw was clamped shut to contain the groan of agony. Every muscle in his body strained against itself as if he were coming apart from the inside out. He laid his brother down beneath the canopy provided by the Tree of Life, stood back up, and snatched one of the orange fruits from a branch.
“Here,” he said, handing the fruit toward Gnash. “Eat this.”
“Fuck. You.” He groaned, rolling onto his side.
“Maybe when you’re feeling better, cuz you look like shit right now.”
A painful laugh tore from Gnash’s lips, giving Silas a glimmer of hope that all wasn’t lost. The short-lived burst of humor quickly turned into a moan and forcing Gnash to curl in on himself. Silas squatted down beside him and held out the round, vibrant orange fruit. “Listen, I’m not going to off you, so you might as well eat the damn fruit and see if it helps. Fuck, it’s not like we can make you any worse, right?”
From his fetal position on the ground, Gnash glared up at him with those red hateful eyes and extended his hand, snatching the fruit from Silas’s open palm. “You know you’re gonna regret this, right?” Gnash half-groaned, half-growled.
Yeah, maybe—probably, Silas thought as he watched Gnash lift it to his mouth and sink his fangs deep into the soft, juicy fruit.
The air stirred behind them. Silas glanced back to see Rictor and Archer, landing on the ground. The panther’s run slowed to a trot. “What the fuck happened?” Rictor growled. Nothing but pure fury glowed in his amethyst eyes.
“The serpent nailed him in the hand. He’s been poisoned. I extracted most of the venom, but we gotta get him to a healer. Did you find the humans?”
“Yeah, they’re gone.”
“Alright then,” Silas knelt back down and scooped his brother back up, ignoring the snarled oath directed at him. He looked at Rictor, who was saying ‘what in the fuck do you think you’re doing’ with his eyes, and thankfully keeping his trap shut. He didn’t want to hear it, and Gnash sure as shit didn’t need to hear the confirmation that he’d be better off dead.
“Seal the entrances so we can get the hell out of here,” he told Rictor.
“What about the serpent?” Archer asked, glancing between them.
“Do not leave,” Gnash groaned. “Kill me, and kill that fucking snake.” He pleaded to Archer and Rictor from Silas’s arms. Silas shot them both a don’t-even-think-about-it-glare and scowled down at the angel lying in his arms. “Shut up,” he growled, bumping Gnash with his arm. “Just seal the gates. As long as the fucker’s trapped inside here what does it matter? Nothing else can get in—nothing can get out. I’ll come back and finish the bastard myself once Gnash is taken care of.”
Rictor nodded. “Meet me at the south entrance.” He flew off to go seal the north, south, east and west gates. You sure this is a good idea? Archer mouthed the words to Silas. Thankfully he hadn’t spoken them out loud or Silas would have busted him one in the lip.
“No.” Silas answered, turning to walk away, but what other fucking choice did he have? He wasn’t going to live with the memory and guilt of offing his brother for the rest of his life.
He took flight and headed toward the south gate, Archer fell in beside him. The entrance was two miles away, and if Gnash’s labored breathing was any indication as to how critical this shit was getting, then they were just about out of time.