I didn’t turn to him.
He caught my chin between two trembling fingers and tilted my face toward his.
“Hey,” he whispered, his thumb brushing my jaw. “Look at me. Come back to me.”
My eyes met his, and he flinched.
“Lily,” he whispered again.
I blinked. Then I turned my head away from Rathiel’s touch as if he weren’t even there and stepped past him.
Lucifer lay on the scorched ground. His chest rose in shallow, rattling pulls of breath. He turned his head toward me, blood streaking the corner of his mouth. For the first time in my life, his voice carried no command—only a rasp that held no sway over me.
“Lilith…” He reached out a hand, but it fell back to the ground. “Don’t…be…like me. Don’t let…the darkness…win.”
His words barely registered. I stared down at the being I’d once called father and gripped Inferno’s Kiss.
End him, the voice in my head whispered.
“Lilith…,” he murmured. “Your mother and I love?—”
I barely remembered moving, but a second later, Lucifer’s head rolled across the ground.
The darkness inside me surged, triumphant.
I stared at what remained of him and feltnothing. No joy, no relief. Not even the bitter satisfaction of achieving something I’d wanted for so long—only a hard, ringing emptiness.
Slowly, I turned.
Rathiel stood in front of me now, his eyes filled with something between horror and heartbreak. Behind him stood Eliza and Calyx. And behind them, my army. Familiar faces jumped out at me. Varz, Gorr, Korrak, Rathgor. Mephisar and Dragon soared overhead. And huddled behind a massive rock, I spotted Vol and Purrgy peeking out at me. They’d all survived the battle.
“Lily?” Rathiel asked. “Are you?—”
I turned away from him and stepped toward my father’s headless body. Then I flared my wings and without a word, launched upward, the wind screaming beneath me.
Ahead, the palace loomed, its black spires piercing the hazy sky.
And inside, something called to me.
A crown I needed to claim.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
LILY
I landedin front of the gates and, with a flick of my hand, threw them wide open. Then I stepped through, smoke and dust swirling around me like snow. My boots scraped over the stone flooring as I entered the actual palace. Every sound, every tap of my boots, carried through the cavernous foyer like a hammer.
The vast entry stretched before me, all ebony columns and spires of stone carved into the likenesses of angels bound in chains. My father’s favourite motif. The statues’ eyeless faces followed me as I moved.
When last I’d walked these halls, I’d been running, escaping my father. Now, I came to take what was mine. Came to claim these hallowed halls as my own. Power sang in the walls, from beneath the floors, from the statues. And soon, it would all be mine.
Guided by memory and a distant calling, I turned and headed straight for the throne room. Someone had sealed shut the great doors, but they opened of their own accord the moment I stepped within reach. There, at the head of the room, seatedupon a small dais, was his—nowmy—throne. And resting on the cushion, as though summoned by my will, sat a crown made of infernal metal, one I’d never laid eyes on before. Was it presenting itself to me now, because I’d defeated my father?
It only shows itself when needed, came that tempting voice in my head. Take the crown, and all will bow.
My fingers twitched at my sides, not from nerves, but reflexes. A small part of me knew this wasn’t right, but I could barely hear my thoughts above the darkness’s voice.
Now, take your place.
