Thankfully, after a heartbeat, his arms loosened, and I slowly sat up, blinking while stretching my neck and rolling out my shoulders.
The others instantly crowded in, and if they hadn’t all looked so worried, I might have laughed. Gorr immediately consumed the space to my right, his tail thumping the ground in slow, worried beats. Mephisar encircled me from behind, his loudhuffs ruffling my hair as he scented me. Sable sniffed at my chest, her slitted golden eyes never leaving mine.
That didn’t leave much room for anyone else, but Eliza and Levi forced their way into the inner circle, hovering next to Rathiel. Calyx was the only one to stand apart, the only one to give me space. He didn’t do it out of politeness, though. Rather, because he wasn’t part of the inner crew. He knew that. We knew that. He was only here out of necessity. If he hadn’t wanted his freedom, I would bet every Earth dollar I had that he wouldn’t be here right now, fighting on our side.
I dragged in a breath that didn’t quite fill my lungs.
“Did someone mention water?” I asked, my voice raspy.
Eliza immediately grabbed a bottle of purified water from her pack, cracked the lid, and handed it over. I took a sip and closed my eyes, revelling in the cool wetness. I wanted to drain the entire bottle, but I paced myself. Celestials didn’tneedwater, nor would we die from dehydration, but that didn’t make the experience fun. Thanks to the “training sessions” I’d suffered through when younger, I’d experienced long bouts without water. My father’s fallen had believed it was the only way to toughen me up. All I’d learned was I liked water and never wanted to go without.
Once we ran out, we would have to rely on the filtration straws or nothing at all, seeing as how nothing in Hell was potable. Not unless one fancied a little bit of organ failure.
Of course, that would all change once we took the palace.
Lucifer didn’t drink from filtration straws. He had his “distillery,” as he called it. A sprawling monstrosity buried beneath the palace. It collected steam from the volcanic vents and compressed it through layers of runes, magically wringing it out until it became drinkable. It was the closest thing to water one would find in this realm. Assuming one didn’t mind the faint taste of brimstone and existential crises.
After another sip, I handed the bottle back to Eliza.
When no one spoke, I sighed and pushed my hair back from my sweaty brow. “I’m fine.”
Rathiel hadn’t moved even after I sat up, and he still knelt next to me, his cerulean eyes narrowed with a particular kind of scrutiny I knew all too well.
I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I really am fine.”
“You screamed,” he said quietly. “You sounded like something was tearing you apart.”
“Sadly, nothing you haven’t heard before,” I said, trying to make light of the situation.
His expression hardened, my humour completely wasted on him. He didn’t say anything, likely because hehadheard me scream like that before—when my father tore my wings off. Unfortunately, there was a good chance he would hear me scream like that again. This was Hell. And we were at war. That kind of life didn’t exactly give off rainbow and puppy-dog vibes. It was hard, bloody, and full of death.
As though tired of me giving Rathiel all my attention, Gorr nudged me with his snout. I chuckled and patted his lumpy head. Okay, maybe Gorr gave off puppy-dog vibes. But he was a ravager. A hellspawn bred to eviscerate and massacre. He was about the cutest thing Hell had, and even he was a monster.
With a final pat, I gently pushed Gorr aside and climbed to my feet, brushing the soot and grit from my perpetually dusty pants. The cracked ground caught my attention, and I stared at the starburst pattern. It began under my feet, then spread outward.
My gaze followed the countless cracks until I saw them.Allof them. Rows upon rows of bodies that stood motionless and lifeless, as silent as death, but they were perfect. And they belonged to me.
My army.
Pride swelled within me before I could stop it, and I took a few steps toward my soldiers. They stood in perfect formation, their abhorrent features carved from ash and ember. They almost looked like they were waiting for someone to wake them. And that someone was me. I knew that without a doubt. Because I’d done this. I’d built them out of Hell’s raw materials, sculpted them straight out of my memory. I’d created them out of rock and flame and air, and they wereflawless.
Victory hummed in my veins as I studied each and every face. I hadn’t successfully resurrected them yet—that part had eluded me thanks to the demonic shadowthing—so their bodies were merely empty vessels. But I had built them. And I knew without a doubt I could do it again.
A quiet step beside me broke the moment.
I turned, expecting to find Rathiel, but instead found Levi. He strode up beside me, his gaze also on my army. I felt that—it was hard to tear your eyes off them.
“So, what happened?” Levi asked.
I swear, the other seven collectively took a step closer, eager to hear my answer.
“I did it,” I said triumphantly. A massive grin spread across my face. “Ididit.”
“Not entirely,” Levi corrected me. “You haven’t resurrected their souls yet. But that’s not what I was asking. I mean, what made you scream? What kept you from finishing the resurrection?”
I knew what he’d meant. I just didn’t have any answers. What was I supposed to tell them? That some strange, shadowy creature attacked me? What would they think if I told them it had slithered down my throat like living poison? Would they think I’d gone insane? Or maybe that I was weak? They needed to believe that I could do this, that I could lead them. Why distress them over something I, myself, didn’t understand?
I was here, and I was perfectly fine. Ifeltperfectly fine.
