The putrid stench of burned flesh fills the air as it melts from its body, exposing bone underneath. Its terrible cries of distress do little to quell my anger and frustration. Anger at myself for harboring a dangerous creature. Frustration for not being able to find my fucking wife.
All of a sudden, the screaming stops. The Nephilim teeters from side to side until it succumbs to its injuries. Its large body drops, falling to the floor in a bloody, fiery mess. For just one second, the Nephilim’s eyes meet mine. Defeat registers in its gaze, then the light flickers out and leaves it completely dead. At my hand.
Silence follows. It’s as if the whole room is holding its breath, waiting for my next move. I’ve exhausted all my magic and power. Fatigue threatens to overwhelm me, but there’s still one person on my mind. One person I have yet to see and need now more than ever.
With shaky legs, I rise from the fire and ash. The room is nearly empty, save for the frozen statues of those who tried to flee but couldn’t, and a few of my guards waiting for their instructions.
But I ignore them. Ignore the fallout I must deal with. My voice roars into the silence, one name reverberating around me over and over again.
Isabelle.
Isabelle.
Isabelle.
Chapter 29
Isabelle
“Let me through! I need to get inside!” Trying to shove the demon is as effective as shoving a brick wall. It doesn’t help that my body already feels drained from my fight with the hooded attacker. Making my way this far into the castle was no easy task, especially since every demon is running in the opposite direction. But not me. I’m running toward the danger.
Toward Oziel.
Only to be stopped by his fucking guards. Guards who were not here earlier. Had they been called away? Was that why the attacker easily slipped through? I file away that thought for later, focused on getting to Oziel right now.
“We can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The demon places his hands on my shoulders to push me back. “Please, ma’am?—”
“I’m your fucking queen,” I snap, smacking his hands away. This time they fall to the guard’s sides, his beadyblack eyes boring into me. The guard takes me in, maybe for the first time, and recognition flickers across his features before it is replaced with unease.
The demon bows. “My queen, I apologize,” he says hastily. When he straightens back up, I’m prepared for him to move aside. But he doesn’t move. If anything, he stays firm in his position. “The king would want you safe. You must go.”
A scream rings out, followed by loud cracking that jostles the foundation. It provides me enough of a distraction to sprint past the first guard, but my victory is short-lived. Hands grab my wrist, nearly yanking my arm out of its socket, pulling me back into a hard chest.
“No! Let me fucking go!” I thrash, kicking out wildly and trying to free my hands. The iron grip on me only tightens.
“My queen, you must stop!” an unfamiliar female voice shouts. A demon guard stands only a few feet away from us, something akin to pity coloring his features. If demons could be remorseful, I imagine they’d look like him.
He takes a step forward, brows drawn together. “Melisanda, perhaps we should?—”
“No!” snaps the female—Melisanda—holding me. “We were given orders, Borzon, and no one can defy the king.”
“But she’s the queen,” Borzon argues.
The hands around me loosen slightly, though not enough for me to break free of Melisanda’s iron grip. The demon pauses, clearly weighing her options. I may be their queen, but I’m not truly one of them. I bruise easier.Break faster. But I’m still the queen; hopefully my voice carries the same weight as Oziel’s.
“She’s human, Borzon. She can't defend herself. Oziel wouldn’t want her in there. She’ll only be a distraction,” Melisanda barks, confirming the fears swirling around in my head.
Before either Borzon or I can say more, another loud scream comes from the ballroom, followed by the sound of a large body hitting the floor. Then…silence. Deadly quiet that speeds up my heart, spreading unease.
Then comes a roar—deep, ferocious, and raw—that nearly drives me to my knees and sends me spiraling.
“ISABELLE!”
My name explodes through the air, a thunderclap that shakes the very walls. The sheer force of Oziel’s voice sends a shiver down my spine, the desperation in it cutting through the chaos like a blade. Melisanda’s grip falters. Just for a second. But it’s enough. I rip free, lungs burning as I bolt toward the ballroom. I don’t dare hesitate.
I have to find Oziel.
The ballroom is free of partygoers. Tables of food and wine are turned over. Food and shattered glass litter the floor. A burning blaze catches my attention. Blue flames burn brightly. Upon first look, the flames seem to be coming from charred wood. But a slight twitch to the body tells me it’s not wood at all.
