I leaned into Rathiel, letting the hush of this new sky wash over me. For the first time in my life, there was no voice whispering in the dark, no father’s shadow, no war to fight. Only the quiet promise of what came next.
Hell had been remade—and so had I.
Epilogue
LILY
ONE MONTH LATER
Rathieland I stepped out of the gate onto the Alberta Legislature Grounds. I drew a deep breath, savoring the taste of Earth’s air, then sealed the gate behind us as neatly as a torn seam sewn together with hardly any strain. Travelling between Earth and Hell was far simpler now and required less energy since I’d restored Hell. Heaven, however, had yet to open the gates—probably waiting to make sure I didn’t go batshit crazy like my father before swinging open all the doors.
Night hung over the city, the moon illuminating the white legislature dome. Lamplight warmed the sidewalks, and the last scraps of snow clung to the deadened grass. Soon, spring would breathe life back into this world.
Rathiel tipped his head, taking it in. “The sky looks smaller than I remember,” he murmured.
“Well, that’s because there aren’t two moons up there vying for attention,” I said, snickering. “Come on, we’re going to be late. Eliza will kill me if we miss last call.”
“She’d have to kill me first,” he replied, and before I could argue, he bent, scooped me against his chest, and unfurled his wings.
“Rath—”
“We’ll be careful,” he murmured. And then he shot off the ground.
Truly, Rathiel took any opportunity to fly us somewhere. With the destruction of the darkness came the loss of my wings. Yet another sacrifice I’d made but didn’t regret. As Rathiel often pointed out, any opportunity for him to hold me was a happy one for him.
He carried us so high that the legislature’s copper dome shrank beneath us, the North Saskatchewan River a slow curve to our right.
I tucked my face against the warm line of his neck and listened to the steady beat of his heart. Rath kept to the shadows as we crossed the dark stretch of the river valley, then banked toward Whyte Ave. We landed in the alley behind the bar without a sound, then walked around to the front.
Wraith & Whiskey’s sign still flickered in the cool night, and I smiled. I’d poured drinks here for years, hiding what I was even from myself.
Rathiel folded his wings and caught my hand. “Ready?”
I wasn’t sure what to expect inside. Had Eliza told them who I really was? The adventure I’d dragged her along for? The heartbreak she’d experienced at my father’s hands? I guess none of that mattered. I was here to see Eliza—that was all I cared about.
“As I’ll ever be,” I said.
Rathiel pushed the door open and the warm thrum of music and laughter spilled out.
For a heartbeat, no one noticed us. Then Mason looked up from behind the bar, a bottle poised in one massive hand. The gargoyle’s slate-grey eyes widened. “Holy—Lily!”
The shout cut through the music. Heads turned. Chairs scraped. And then the whole place erupted in cheers.
Someone whistled. Someone else called my name like a victory cry. I laughed, startled and suddenly aching with something that felt a lot like love.
Mason vaulted the bar with the effortless strength of living stone and swept me into a hug that lifted me off my feet. “Eliza told us you’d be here tonight, but I don’t think any of us actually believed her.”
“I’m here,” I managed, hugging him tight. “And I missed you.”
He set me down with a grin that softened the hard planes of his face. “We missed you too, kid.”
A familiar laugh sounded behind me. “Do we really want to call Hell’s queen a kid?”
I turned, and there stood Eliza, leaning against the end of the bar. Her dark hair hung loose over her leather jacket, her eyes bright.
“Eliza!”
I ran to her. We collided in a hug that nearly knocked us both over. She squeezed me until my ribs ached. “God, it’s good to see you.”
