She didn’t argue. Instead, she nestled a cheek against my shoulder and wrapped a hand around my neck.
“You can’t give up, do you understand?” I kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger on her fresh skin.
Closing her eyes, she nodded. A single tear rolled down her cheek to drip onto her shirt.
My heart clenched, and I narrowed my gaze at Malachi. “You could’ve at least blinked us straight to the throne.”
“And let your girlfriend miss out on the sights?” He stopped and turned, lifting an eyebrow then motioning to the bleak landscape. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Cain?”
“I’m going to kill you.” I clenched my teeth so hard they ached all the way through my gums to my jawbone.
“With what? Your meager powers...your razor wit?” With a quick twist of his wrist, a black rope whipped out and lassoed itself around Phoebe’s neck, yanking her out of my arms and dumping her onto the ground. “I’ll take her from here.”
Choking and grabbing at the line, Phoebe knelt in the sand, her eyes wide, face pale.
Malachi jerked on his makeshift leash, laughed, and strode ahead, forcing her to stumble to her feet to keep from being dragged across the sand like a piece of trash.
Hateful fury bubbled from the pit of my stomach, and I dug my fingernails into my palms. He wanted me to lash out, to play this sick game, but I couldn’t afford to think as he did. In one thing Malachi was correct...I still thought like a human.
“Don’t fight it.” Placing my hands on Phoebe’s waist, I steadied her as she plodded behind him.
She said nothing, and her lack of fight alarmed me more than anything.
If I give her up, once I get my wings, her suffering won’t matter any longer.Really, what choice did I have? None. Letting her go had been the only choice, no matter how I deluded myself.
Still, if I could reach Samael...
The ancient stone pathway ended at a one-hundred-foot wall made of obsidian glass which curved over the top, completely enclosing the fortress. A bubbling orange ribbon of lava surrounded the black monstrosity, the moat adding a ghastly layer of protection.
“Welcome to Castle Sheol, Phoebe, your new home,” Malachi crooned, stopping at the edge of the magma.
His words sent fingers of ice down my spine.
“Get it over with, Malachi.” I pulled her into my side as a hot bubble of lava burst, splattering the sand only inches from where she’d been standing.
“I’d invite you through the door, but Sheol has none. A precautionary security measure, you know. Afraid I’ll have to blink you inside.” His hands shot out and wrapped around her wrist and mine, creating the whirling black tornado of opening the portal.
Hard ground settled under my feet. The charred scent of burning hair and wood disappeared, replaced with Lucian’s spicy smell of cinnamon, woodfire, and leather. Strange yet not unpleasant.
Carefully, Phoebe opened her eyes, as if her curiosity overcame the dread Hell always roused in newcomers.
In the middle of the large room rose a huge black throne, its base consisting of dozens of skulls. Some, cracked and yellowed, showed remnants of shriveled skin still clinging to their surface. Others had been bleached white, but all had one characteristic—human.
Every five feet, a circle had been cut into the floor, revealing the flowing lava from outside, which also provided light in the impenetrable obsidian castle.
“Well, the prodigal son returneth, eh, Cain?” Lucian lounged on his throne, one hand wrapped around the arm of the chair, the other propping his chin in a palm. His wings remained tucked behind his back, their sable edges peeking above his shoulders.
I knelt, pulling Phoebe with me.
Her face, pale before, became translucent as she stared at the foundation of the throne. Thinning her lips, even in profile, she reminded me of a beautiful Greek goddess readying herself for battle.
“Don’t say a word,” I breathed, keeping my voice as quiet as possible.
Her mouth tightened, and she swallowed, continuing to stare at the grotesque throne and prince who ruled over it and the realm.
“You may rise, Cain.” Lucian’s voice, low and smooth, acted as a balm to my inner turmoil. He’d always been there for me, and I’d have died in the wild if not for his care, harsh or not. I owed him everything.
I stood straight, diverting my attention to my master, resplendent in his dark armor as he leisurely rose then descended the dais, his booted footfalls ringing softly on the steps.
