“If you change your mind at any point, I will switch our strategies. It is never too late.”
“I understand. You’re a good male, Samael. You will do incredible things for our people.”
He wandered away, and I fought back disgust in myself that I was even considering using a male so entrenched in his own grief. But few demons lasted even close to a year after the loss of their mate. Thoughts of his revenge had been the only reason he’d stayed alive this long. I wouldn’t take it from him.
A roar sounded, and I turned my head. At least a hundred dragons had joined us, and I stroked my hand down Scylla’s snout as a huge red dragon curled up next to her.
“Be careful,” I ordered her. “You have your daughter to think about.”
She snorted at me, and I leveled her with a hard stare. She stared back.
Twenty feet away, the werewolf Alpha paced, his gaze on his own people. Over a hundred of them were gathered and ready to shift. Human mates and children had been left behind, put into lockdown with increased security to deter anyone who had been watching and knew so many of his wolves were away from their territory.
We’d had to transport more food than I could’ve imagined into the pocket realm so the wolves would be able to shift and fight when necessary.
I walked to the Alpha. “What happened?”
“Danica did something to allow me to see Kyla. My wolf has a matter of hours before she goes completely feral and I’ll have to put her down.”
Dull pride in Danica’s scheming warred with sadness. If Danica lost Kyla, she would never recover.
Finvarra approached, ignoring Nathaniel. The unseelie king sent the dragons a distrustful glance. “You seem less crazed,” he told me.
“In just hours, I wage war on my enemies and save my bondmate.”
Waiting until noon was difficult. But my generals were working with Finvarra’s as they strategized. Lucifer had been gathering his people from every corner of his realm, readying for our attack. We were outnumbered and forced to fight in what had become his territory.
It would be all we could do to make sure this battle wouldn’t be a bloodbath. And yet even if Lucifer hadn’t taken Danica, even if it was someone else he needed in order to take their power, we would still be marching on him.
Because if Lucifer could travel through portals, worlds would end. He would take the smaller realms first. Then he’d turn to the middleground. His armies would roll over any opposition, and he’d force residents to swear their allegiance and fight under his banner.
Then he would turn to the realm we’d made our home. Danica’s realm. I had no doubt that Lucifer had never expected the underworld to keep him confined for so long. He’d thought I would be dead centuries ago, leaving him free to go where he pleased. And he’d been silently stewing, seething, and strategizing ever since.
Finvarra was still studying me, still ignoring the Alpha wolf. Neither of them had spoken more than a single word to each other over the past few days.
“And yet, you’re not pleased,” he said.
Because I knew my mate. Knew she’d done something that could get her killed.
I could feel Finvarra’s eyes on me, filing away any sign of weakness. I turned and gave him a look that dared him to attempt to use that weakness.
He smiled at me and wandered away, heading back toward one of his generals.
And I continued to wait for my witchling. Continued to pray to gods I no longer believed in that she was okay.
* * *
DANICA
The next day, Pischiel found me in my room. I was staring out the window, watching as the occasional meteor flashed brighter than the rest, burning across the sky. Thankfully, Lucifer was away from the palace on some kind of business today. But it was only a matter of time before he realized I was behind the release of his slaves.
“You seem like you’re doing better,” Pischiel said.
So we weren’t going to talk about our spat last night. Of course, I wouldn’t hurt an innocent person based on Pischiel’s actions, but I’d known deep down that he’d believe me when I made my threats. Because he’d grown up in Lucifer’s court.
“Danica?”
I grunted. I wouldn’t say I was doing better. Merely suppressing any emotions that attempted to rise. Not exactly a healthy way of coping, but I couldn’t afford to mourn in this place. So I was channeling my sorrow and grief into rage.
