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I chose what it became.

And instead of tearing another hole in the world, we fucking closed one.

Something shifts inside me, and for once it isn’t pain.

Malgrave took my voice because this power scared him.

The Devil stole it because he wanted to use it.

Both of them looked at what Sentinel and I created and saw a weapon, but they never bothered asking what I might choose to make it.

A sound behind me pulls my attention around.

The Devil is still there.

No Hell burning behind him now, no army, no open chasm feeding power into the room. Just a man in an expensive black suit standing on stone I sealed beneath his polished fucking shoes.

His red eyes meet mine.

Once, I stood before him chained and bleeding while Hell tried to teach me that everything I was belonged to them.

Now my roar sits warm and solid inside my chest, Sentinel’s Grace still humming through my hellfire, and Hell is sealed beneath my feet because I decided it would be.

Yeah, asshole… nobody fucks with the Kings!

The Devil’s gaze shifts to Echo, where she stands battered and bloodied among the Kings, silver hair stuck to her face, but she doesn’t look away from him.

His attention lingers on her throat.

Her voice was supposed to open his lock.

It did, but then she used that same voice to help take his prize away.

Finally, he looks at Sentinel, studying him long enough that Sentinel’s hand slips from my shoulder, and his wings spread wider.

Something changes in those red eyes.

Interest.

That bothers me more than anger would.

“Now I know what you can carry.”

Sentinel stiffens beside me.

The Devil holds his gaze for another long second, that faint smile never leaving his face.

Then… he is gone.

Just-fucking-gone.

He doesn’t need Hell to open beneath him or fire to carry him away. His body simply disappears from the chamber, leaving bare stone behind and a silence that somehow feels heavier because of the space he left.

I keep staring at the spot where the Devil stood until my hellhound finally starts to retreat.

With more effort than it should take, I push myself upright, too exhausted to give a shit that my dick is currently enjoying more freedom than the rest of me, and turn toward Sentinel. His wings are still spread, but all the fight has drained from his expression. He’s staring at the same empty stretch of stone, his jaw tight, gold burning faintly through his eyes.

“You heard that, right?” I ask, my voice so raw I barely recognize it.