Lucien's POV
I kept flying faster, but they were gaining.
Shit.
My wings cut through the sky like blades, but every gust behind me was heavier — louder. I could hear them now. The fall of their wings. The sparks of charged magic in the air.
Why now?
When everything was finally aligning. When Clara was right where I needed her. When Heaven was almost within reach.
Then I heard it — the ripple of power, sharp and sudden. I turned just in time.
Lightning.
"Shit!" I hissed, swerving hard.
The bolt missed me by inches, slamming into a mountain below. I heard the crack before I saw the top collapse — rock shattering like glass.
They were trying to kill me.
Not stop me. Not capture.
Eliminate.
Fine.
Let them try.
But if I died now — after centuries of scheming, after bleeding and crawling through the filth of the underworld — then I'd never get back. I'd never prove to them I was more than a fallen. More than a mistake.
I'd never rise again.
And worse…
