“If my mother is gone, there will be nothing left for me in my village. The people there believe me a traitor, believe I turned my back on them.”
I studied her. “What is it you’re asking for, Hera? You know I’m not good at court-speak.”
She laughed. A tiny sound that was immediately cut off. A sound that seemed to surprise her.
“If… if my mother is no longer living, I would like to return here. To make myself useful.”
“Useful how?”
“Before Lucifer took me, I was studying to be a healer. There are many people here who need to be healed. Both inside and out.”
“Done,” I said. “If your mother is alive, you may bring her back with you if you don’t want to stay in your village.”
The color drained from her face, and she swayed on her feet. I glanced at Bael, who stood a few feet away, and he nodded. He’d catch her if she went down.
This was a mixture of relief and shock. She’d expected me to say no. Had been prepared for it. She’d asked anyway, but she wasn’t prepared to feel hope once more.
“It’s okay,” I told her. “Lucifer’s dead. It’s over now.”
Tears dripped down her face and she nodded at me, opening her mouth and immediately closing it once more. With a bow of her head, she backed away, hurrying out the door.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I glanced at Samael, who was lounging on his throne as if he was a cat lounging in front of a fire.
“Do you?”
His voice was low and wicked, and it made me shiver. “You’re thinking I’m a sucker.”
He raised my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I’m thinking about how lucky I am to be bonded to a woman who is not only brave and bold, but is also compassionate and willing to give others the benefit of the doubt. I have no compassion left, little witch. Our subjects are lucky to have you.”
My cheeks heated. Samael still remained the only man who’d ever made me blush.
“And,” he lowered his voice until I could only just hear him. “I’m thinking about how I can’t wait to bend you over that throne and—”
I let out a strangled sound as the throne room doors opened, and Samael laughed.
The room went quiet as Pischiel walked in. He glanced at me and smiled, but the smile dropped when he met Samael’s eyes. They regarded each other silently.
Pischiel had managed to stay alive throughout the battle—thanks in large part to Samael. My demon studied the man who had once been his childhood friend, and Pischiel studied him right back.
Pischiel bowed his head.
“Lower,” Samael said, his expression turning predatory.
I leaned over and elbowed him. “Don’t be a dick,” I hissed.
Samael rolled his eyes at me.
“You spared my life,” Pischiel said to Samael, ignoring our byplay.
My bondmate heaved a sigh. “You kept Danica safe. She told me how you gave her those keys. Without your actions, without Danica being free, we could never have won the war. Not to mention,” he said silkily, “you bonded to my witchling before I got here.”
I didn’t roll my eyes at the stark possession in his tone when he said “my witchling,” but it was close. Pischiel merely flicked me an amused glance.
“What will you do now?” I asked him.
He smiled, and it suddenly looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“I want to go home.”
