My thoughts scattered and my lungs strained as the magic snaked through me, threading itself into every nerve. I swore I could feel it pressing against the inside of my bones.
It was more power than I could bear.
But it didn’t stop. If anything, it pressed harder, filling every hollow space within me until I thought I’d split apart at the seams. I had to release it somehow, before it tore me to pieces, and I could think of only one way to do so.
Find them, I ordered the magic.Bring them back.
The second I thought the words, magic detonated from my core in a blast so devastating, it flattened the damn air, slammed into the edges of this place, and rolled outward like a shockwave. But at least I could breathe again as evidenced by the ragged breath I dragged into my lungs.
I reached for my people. Not with my hands—they were useless thanks to the black and gold bonds holding me hostage—but with my will. The light inside me, tainted by shadow, spilled outward, seeking every single soul hovering nearby.
They came quickly. Some rushed toward me as though finally seeing the light. Others brushed against me tentatively, thengave in to my pull. Every time one passed through me, I took the time to merge it with a sliver of my essence, just enough to tether it to life once more. One by one, they passed through me, leaving behind a mark of their own, connecting us in a way I’d never known was possible.
How had Rathiel and Calyx done this for so many millennia? The souls didn’t just take my gift—they took a piece of me. And for every bit of light taken, the darkness seeped in, curling tighter around my core until it breathed in time with me. Only then, when the final soul passed through me, did the coils lower me down onto my unsteady feet.
Maybe that was why my father had never offered his own essence—maybe hecouldn’t. Maybe there was nothing left within him to offer. No light, no goodness, nothing. And perhaps that was why he’d forced the others to do it for him. I’d never thought to ask Rathiel and Calyx what it had done to them, or how much of themselves they’d lost over the centuries to my father’s whims.
Was there any light left within them? Rathiel loved me like no one else. I had to believe he hadsomelight left in order for him to love me so deeply. But Calyx? I wasn’t so sure.
Go, I commanded my soldiers, sending their souls out into their awaiting bodies.
They obeyed without hesitation, vanishing from my forest. Only when the final flicker disappeared did I force myself back to reality, back to Hell’s cloying heat and smoky air. The return hit me like a punch, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. I forced open my eyes and dropped hard to my knees in the dirt. The impact rattled my bones, and my hands shook as I dug my fingers into the ground to steady myself.
Before me, the first soul merged with its vessel. Then another. And another. Countless more. Until finally, every last one was accounted for, safely nestled within its body.
With a shivering breath, I exhaled and released my magic. But the darkness didn’t releaseme. It crept through me like smoke, filling the cracks I’d exposed when offering my essence.
Gentle hands cupped my cheeks, and I lifted my head to find Rathiel kneeling before me, concern twisting his features. His lips moved as he spoke, but I couldn’t make out the words, his voice muffled by the roar in my ears. I didn’t ask him to repeat himself, though, because the hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers behind him stared at me, waiting.
For a long moment, I knelt there, panting like I’d run a marathon.
I couldn’t believe it.
I did it.
I freaking did it.
I resurrected my army!
My gaze began to skim over the countless faces, and my heart stuttered at the sight of every single one. A ragged sound punched out of my chest—half laugh, half gasp—and I wiped the grit from my palms as I pushed to my feet. My legs wobbled with effort, but pride burned hot enough to hold me upright—well, that and Rathiel’s hands, supporting my weight.
As I steadied myself, the ringing in my ears slowly dulled, replaced by the sound of shuffling boots, hissed breaths, and the faint scrape of armour.
Korrak—the ugly bastard—moved first. The crowd parted for him without a word, just like they had the first day we’d met. Ten feet of living volcanic rock stomped up to me, molten seams glowing faintly beneath his rocky skin. His horns curved back in huge crescents, the edges nicked from decades of bashing his head against things that refused to be broken.
An arm’s length away, he stopped, then thudded a fist against his armoured chest. The cracks along his sternum flared, ember-bright. His molten gaze flared as a slow grin overtook his face, flashing his fangs.
“Princess,” he rumbled.
He’d never called me that before. I didn’t correct him, though. Because beyond him, a familiar shadow slid through the ranks without touching a single shoulder.
Varz. My favourite netheron. He moved with precision, his muscles coiled and lean. Golden, slitted eyes locked onto mine, but he didn’t smile. Because Varzneversmiled.
“Try not to get us killed this time,” he murmured, completely deadpan.
Rathiel released my arm and took a protective step forward, but I clutched him tightly and pulled him back. He shot me another concerned glance, then continued bracing my weight. I didn’t want to show the others just how exhausted I was, but he saw it. He read me better than anyone else here.
“I’ll do my best,” I said, weakly grinning at the sight of the hellspawn who had become my friends.
