I stepped over countless bodies—somemine, some theirs—as I made my way back into the outpost. Most lay in broken heaps, while others were curled around the weapons that’d killed them. The outpost soldiers hadn’t stood a chance against my army. We’d outnumbered them three to one, but they’d still fought until their dying breaths.
Bravery, loyalty, obedience. None of it had saved them—it never did. But those were characteristics I admired. They’d known they would die in this battle, and they’d charged forward anyway.
And now they were dead.
But they didn’t need tostaydead.
I’d raised a thousand-strong army. I’d given them back their souls without help fromanyone. What was to stop me from doing it again? From resurrecting every corpse in this courtyard and adding their numbers to mine? From swelling my ranks into something utterly undefeatable?
If I raised these hellspawn, could I sway them to our side? Make them fight for me instead of my father? We’d bested them in combat—hellspawn respected that. But if they didn’t…well, I could just kill them again.
The idea didn’t repulse me like it should have. Power thudded in my veins, hungry and eager. It moved under my skin as though it approved of my thoughts. All I had to do was close my eyes and let go. Imagine the army I could build. The sheer numbers. My father wouldn’t stand a chance. And without his fallen, he couldn’t make more. Turn every last hellspawn against him, and I’d tear that damn crown right off his head.
My boots thumped against the outpost’s stone floor as I circled the corpses. I didn’t necessarily need their loyalty. I just needed their obedience.
I crouched next to the nearest body—a broad-shouldered brute of a brimlord with a dented gorget and a sword jammed under his ribs. I placed my hand on his breastplate and sent my magic out. A filament of power slid beneath the metal and into his cold, rigid chest.
He spasmed and my lips curved.
I reached farther, feeling for the flutter until…there. A faint flicker hovered nearby. His soul, trapped in the in-between, unable to move on, because there was nowhere for a soul to go after death in Hell.
My grin stretched wider.
With his body intact, my job became a little easier. There was no need to shape bone and sinew from nothing, no need to slip into the forest and touch the black roots. All I had to do was stuff his soul back into his body and weld the two pieces together. Then, he would live again.
As easy as that.
It was strange how simple this had become. It was almost like I’d broken the barriers. And now, every time I touched this magic, it grew stronger, became easier to call. To use.
Even now, I knew I could call this brimlord back from the dead with little more than a flex of power. It would take more to raise them all. But one soldier was nothing. A drop in the bucket.
“…no survivors. Not that I expected any.”
I stiffened at the sound of approaching voices. The brimlord fell still at my feet, still dead.
Rathiel’s frame moved between two toppled barricades, his shoulders outlined by the lingering firelight within the outpost. Calyx trailed behind him, his boots scuffing against the uneven stone ground. Eliza and Levi trailed behind them, but neither Rathiel nor Calyx seemed aware of them.
I noted how close Eliza stood to Levi. Her head tilted toward him as she listened, her expression softening in a way I’d never seen before. His hand brushed hers—quick, but not quick enough. Her eyes dropped to where his fingers touched hers, and a blush scoured her cheeks.
My gaze lingered, taking in their connection. Eliza’s eyes were full of longing, and Levi’s glimmered with interest. In all the time I’d known the siren, she’d always avoided attachment and romantic relationships because she could never guarantee the affection was genuine. Seemed like that’d changed recently, thanks to Levi.
It was curious, though.
I’d known him my entire life. Granted, he’d spent most of those years hiding in snake form, playing the part of Deidre’s pet. But even after revealing his true identity to me, I’d never once seen him look at anyone the way he looked at Eliza now. I hadn’t given it much thought because he was an angel. Rumor had it they weren’t allowed to experience the pleasures of the flesh. Could his millennia trapped down here have changed him?Stripped him of those restraints? If so, what did that mean for him? Heck, what did it mean forme? Technically, I was an angel, and I’d experienced more than my fair share of pleasure.
I mentally shrugged that off. In the grand scheme of things, honestly, angelic rules barely ranked in my head.
“Watchtowers are obliterated,” Calyx continued, oblivious to Eliza and Levi behind him. I just hoped he didn’t turn and see them. I’d seen enough to know Calyx was interested in Eliza. I also knew she wasn’t interested in him. I didn’t exactly like Calyx, but I didn’t wish him pain either.
Rathiel flicked me a quick glance, his brow furrowing when he caught sight of my hand on the brimlord’s chest.
I pulled it back, then slowly pushed to my feet.
“The wyrm had a little too much fun, if you ask me,” Calyx continued. “But we could repair them.”
“We could,” Rathiel agreed, turning his attention back to Calyx. “What about the supplies?”
“There’s a good amount,” Calyx replied. “Food, bedrolls, basic provisions. If we’re careful, plan hunting parties to supplement the food stock here, and don’t delay this war too long, there’s enough to feed our people.”
