Mammon was gone.
A female demon I hadn’t met began screaming, falling to her knees. She tore at her hair and then fell unconscious. I knew without being told that one of the demons who’d died was her mate.
I screamed as one of Lucifer’s soldiers leaned down and beheaded her unconscious body.
Finvarra’s power felt endless. Even now, after so many hours of battle, he wielded it like it cost him nothing as he took down swathes of Lucifer’s demons with the wave of his hand, cutting through his army as he stalked toward Taraghlan.
But I saw him turn, saw some sixth sense warn him. Saw his eyes widen as his people were struck by black, oily magic, falling to their knees.
Black witches. Somewhere, Lucifer had stashed his own blackwitches, and like Hannah, they were growing even more powerful with the blood and death and fear.
Then came the wyverns. As expected, Lucifer’s commanders had waited until the last minute to let them loose. Their eyes were crazed as they shot into the sky, insane with bloodlust after being forced to hear the battle. At being chained up while they could smell blood and death.
They struck in packs, aiming for the dragons. The dragons spat fire, but they were tired too, and I heard Scylla’s roar as a bright green dragon faltered, its huge body covered in black wyverns who were attacking as a pack.
They tore out the dragon’s throat, and the ground shook as he landed, creating a crater in the earth.
I closed my eyes. I was a coward, but I couldn’t watch.
The underworld prodded at me, as ifIwere annoyingit.
I sent it a vision of my teeth bared in a snarl and it paused. Then it poked me again.
I opened my eyes, and my sharp inhale made the arrow jostle in my chest. More blood trickled up my throat and into my mouth.
I was staring up at the ceiling of the throne room, but it blurred in front of my eyes as the underworld showed me something else.
There, in the distance, an army marched toward us. Toward where the unseelie were being killed by Lucifer’s witches.
Thousands upon thousands of demons marched. All dressed in black, weapons in their hands.
Slowly, slowly, they came into view. And there was nothing I could do about it. The unseelie had two choices—leave the demons to their fate, or stay and be slaughtered.
Finvarra had held up his end of the bargain. There was no way he would allow his people to die for nothing.
I saw the knowledge on his face. Saw him open his mouth to order his people to retreat. Some part of me knew he would stay himself. Would fight to the death and take Taraghlan with him.
And then he went still.
Some of our people seemed to have a kind of sixth sense, because their heads turned. Then they swung swords harder, their power burning brighter. And they roared with elation.
The demons advancing on the palace were marching.
I let out a dry sob. They wereallmarching, because many of them still had no wings.
They were likely still malnourished. Likely wanted to be anywhere else but here, where Lucifer could kill them all. Could turn them into slaves once more.
I froze as I recognized the leader. Kazbiel. I’d watched as his wings were ruthlessly cut from his back, and now he led his people back, to help us fight.
Tears slipped down my face. I hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t even entertained a shred of hope. After everything that had been done to them, the slavery and hardship they’d endured—losing their wings, watching the people they loved die, being cut off from their power and weakened day after day.
They’d still come.
And behind them, roaring through the skies…
Nacheran. With his people at his back. His face lit with a feral grin. And sprinting in front of his army, looking for all the world like a gamboling puppy…
No way.
