‘I should kill you for what you’ve done,’ she snarled, her voice sharp as shattered glass.
‘No…’ the woman rasped, writhing in Mal’s grip.
‘You can’t kill a king of Hell,’ Thanatos whispered behind her, his voice brushing her skin like a phantom’s touch. The sound sent a shiver dancing down her spine. She imagined him again, back on the sofa, bare and waiting, her hands roaming freely over his form. The craving surged anew.
‘Focus, Melinoe,’he breathed.
Mal clenched her jaw and squeezed until the woman’s face turned a sickly blue. Then she released her grip, letting the demoness crumple to the floor. She crouched, brushing a stray lock of black hair from her eyes, inspecting her nails with feigned indifference.
‘I’m looking for someone.’
The woman spat blood at her feet. ‘You… will pay… for this.’
Mal tilted her head. ‘Oh? Is that so?’ Her voice was velvet-wrapped steel. ‘You tried to ensnare me, but we didn’t succumb. Now, we walk free.’ She smacked the side of the demoness’s head. ‘Allegra. Is she here?’
The king of lust bared her teeth, still clutching her bruised neck, and shook her head.
‘Don’t be so melodramatic,’ Mal said, rising with deliberate grace. ‘You’re a king of Hell. Surely you can survive a little bruising.’
‘Pray you never return, god-killer,’ the woman hissed.
Mal’s wicked grin returned. ‘Oh, I will,’ she replied sweetly. ‘I’ll pray. For you. That I never find myself back here because if I do, I’ll make this pit of sin your personal nightmare.’
And with that, Mal delivered a swift, vicious kick to the demon’s temple, silencing her in one final, poetic blow.
When Hadrian was taken from me, hung and burnt from the branches of a tree, the world ceased to make sense.
By then, my memories had returned, flooding back like a storm breaking through the dam. I remembered everything. Who I truly was. That I am Hecate, a goddess. The truth behind Hades and me, the cruel intricacies of that wretched curse.
And I remembered this, too: that each time Hadrian and I die, we are reborn. Again and again, bound by fate and blood and divine cruelty.
But not this time.
This time, I will not die. Even if it means I must endure centuries without him, even if the ache of his absence threatens to hollow me out, I must remain.
I must stay alive, if only to avenge him.
And to break this curse once and for all.
So I will vanish. I will wait. And I will find a way to burn it all to the ground.
Tabitha Wysteria
Alina had led Kai and his companion through the gilded heart of the city and into the palace’s embrace, guiding them wordlessly through marble corridors and vaulted archways until they reached a vast chamber, strewn with jewel-toned cushions and low settees, the air perfumed with warmvapour from the sunken interior pool at its centre. She had not spoken a word nor offered explanation. She needed the silence, needed it to soothe the tempest within her mind. Why was Kai Blackburn here, in the Kingdom of Light? And who, exactly, was the woman who accompanied him? There was something faintly familiar about the wyverian at his side, a whisper of recognition brushing at Alina’s thoughts, though she couldn’t yet grasp its source.
Kai Blackburn looked much the same as she remembered. Tall and powerfully built, a body carved through years of relentless training, shaped in both muscle and spirit. He wore black leather, his twin hook swords strapped across his back like old, faithful companions. His short black hair was just as she recalled, and the tall, curved black horns rising from his head completed the image. He was handsome, undeniably so. Perhaps the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.
The stranger beside him matched his height, as was often the case with wyverians. She was slender, almost willowy, with pale skin and eyes as dark as polished obsidian. There was nothing outwardly remarkable about her. She looked, truthfully, like many other wyverian women. And yet… there was something in the way she held herself, the subtle grace of her stance, the way her eyes roamed the world with quiet wonder, that made Alina hesitate.
As they crossed the threshold, Alina gestured for them to sit, but neither of the wyverians obliged. And so, she remained standing too, her back straight, gaze steady. A moment later, the chamber doors opened with a quiet sigh, and in walked Mareena, clad in a flowing white gown that shimmered like sunlight on sand, her hair veiled beneath sheer silk. The phoenixian princess came to Alina’s side without uttering a word to their guests. Alina caught the small tremor in Mareena’s hand, saw how it hovered near Alina’s arm as if thephoenixian meant to offer comfort, and at the last moment, thought better of it.
‘You’re alive.’ Kai’s voice broke through the silence, low and thick with emotion. His eyes, dark as onyx, gleamed with a strange mix of sorrow, relief, and something else, something deeper, harder to name. ‘Everyone believes you’re dead.’
‘Do they?’ Alina arched a brow, though the words did not entirely surprise her. She had vanished from her homeland in the dead of night, fleeing with Hessa, the fire at their backs and the future unravelled before them. There had been no time for goodbyes, no space to fight or to stay.
‘Good,’ she said simply, her voice cool and resolute. ‘I want it to stay that way.’
Kai stepped forward and, without warning, cradled Alina’s face in his palms, as though needing to feel her beneath his fingers to believe what stood before him was real.
