Owen Cavalier (Inkitt Edition) Vampire/Werewolf

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Chapter 5: Flashback #1

“Today…” Drake St. Claire muttered aloud.

Drake stood in front of The Guardian… His presence itself seemed to drain the life out of anything that came near him. Drake hated The Guardian with a passion. He was merely Hell’s warden. The Guardian did not speak, but he didn’t need to, as his intentions were easily conveyed with the simplest of gestures. The Guardian never removed his hood, but his armour seemed loose and ill fitting, as if there were nothing but bones beneath it. His cloak gave him a shapeless quality, and his scythe was elegant and brutal. Behind The Guardian was a door that was chained down. This was the door to the realm of the living, a dimension where very few demons have managed to reach.

“Today. I challenge you for my freedom.”

The Guardian tilted his head, but made no other movement. Wings manifested from Drake’s shoulder blades, and horns spiked out of his skull. His demon markings glowed, and he roared.

“I have to see my baby sister! YOU’RE IN MY WAY!” Drake roared, and threw himself towards The Guardian.

He feinted with a blow towards The Guardian’s face, and D The Guardian blocked, but Drake spun and elbowed The Guardian in the ribs. This seemed to have no impact on The Guardian, who swatted Drake away. Drake seemed to disappear, and The Guardian spun and brought his fist down hard to where Drake would reappear, driving his face straight into the rusty-red dirt and rattling his skull. Drake rolled to avoid The Guardian’s stomp, and pushed himself off the ground with only his hands, avoiding The Guardian’s scythe by the skin of his teeth. Drake pulled out a double edged baselard which seemed to be able to function independently, with a red eye in the middle of the blade which constantly seemed to be observing everything at once. Drake swung, and the sheer force seemed to rip the air apart. The Guardian was unfazed, and swung his scythe with such a force that it took Drake off his feet without touching him. Drake moved low and swung up, which The Guardian caught, and Drake twisted, landing a foot on the flat side of The Guardian’s scythe. Drake kicked, and The Guardian’s scythe was forced against a link in the chains on the door. Drake let his mark fade, dispelling the baselard and freeing himself to slip through the door… The Guardian hadn’t even turned around before Drake was on the Other Side…

The Guardian tilted his head, and clutched his scythe, mending the broken chain by waving over it and fixing himself in position again.

“Öunt lev üit , Dæmoneh.” The Guardian’s booming voice said with a hint of satisfaction.

Drake opened his eyes… And it was dark, and he couldn’t breathe. He realised where he really was. A coffin. An actual coffin, underground. He frantically beat his fists against the roof of the casket, and then slowed his heart rate… He had to get out.

He just had to get out…
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