Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Famine is still cantering around, and without a rider, has no one to control him. His decorative saddle and bridle are gone, and my eyes widen when I realize the energy ball knocked Osiris’s scorpion off too.
And I was right about Famine wanting a taste for blood that’s not demonic. There probably isn’t anything more pure than divinity running through veins, and Famine slows, turning his head to look for Uriel…who’s still struggling.
He gets to his feet only to fall again, and the demons are scattering like mice as the demonic horse starts making his way toward the fallen archangel. I know I have to do something. Heart in my throat, I reach deep down inside of me and pull out every last ounce of power I have.
“No!” I shout, watching the horse’s nostrils flare. Embers glow in its eyes and it paws at the ground, hungry for more. “You will obey!”
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
This time, I throw out my hands and feel a rush of energy go through me. Great black and red wings spread out behind me, and purple hellfire springs from my hands. Flames fall to the ground, shooting forward along the cobblestone, incinerating anything in its path. The fire burns brilliantly, with red flames from this realm and blue flames from the Underworld merging together to form the most deadly and beautiful color. Sparks or raw energy sizzle and pop from the fire.
“I am the Queen of Hell,” I say through gritted teeth, feeling the crown of hellfire circle my head. It feels so damn right. Paired with having my wings out, I feel like myself.
This is who I’m supposed to be.
Born from both darkness and light. Created in love yet have existed with so much hate. This is why I’m here. It’s what I’m supposed to do.
“And you will listen to me,” I go on and the demon horse stops advancing. Uriel slowly gets to his feet, eyes wide as he looks at the horse only feet from him. Slowly, he turns his attention to me, expression unreadable. “Back down,” I tell the horse. It’s starting to look fuzzy, and I blink a few times, thinking maybe it’s all the light from the flames. But no, it’s that I’m starting to be able to see it’s true form. The demon isn’t an actual horse, and the once majestic creature before me looks skeletal and festering. “That goes for all of you,” I warn the other demons, who have gone completely still. I take in a breath, causing the flames on the ground to grow taller and hotter.
My heels click along stone floor as I walk to the center of the throne room, staring down Paimon. He’s bound to the floor with the iron chains Osiris conjured, sucked dry and looking pathetic.
“I’d say go to hell, but you’re already there,” I sneer and extend my hand. Not knowing what I’m doing or how I’m doing it, I magically rip his demonic soul from his beaten body. Paimon screams as the flames circle him, quickly consuming him. I hold the soul tight in my grasp, feeling his palpable desperation to escape.
Not this time, asshole. And this…this is for Julian as much as it is for the rest of the world.
The smell of charred flesh and burned hair fills the room, and the sound of crackling flames replace Paimon’s screams of pain. The room quiets, and I miss hearing the sounds of torture.
“My love.” Lucas’s voice comes from behind me and I feel his hand land on my shoulder. I blink and I’m brought back to myself—my old self that is. My old self that is half witch who belongs to a coven and is married to the love of my life and has a daughter.
Suddenly, it’s like I’m being ripped in two all over again, but this time it doesn’t hurt. Not physically. No, this time, I have to choose. And I don’t want to.
“Lucas,” I whisper and my heart swells in my chest. I want to go home to the house we rebuilt together. The house that we’ve made a home. “We did it.”
“We did.” His dark blue eyes meet mine. “Paimon is gone. And now we should leave.”
My head bobs up and down. The longer I’m here, the more I’m going to feel drawn to the throne. My throne. The one beckoning me to come sit on it.
And rule.
“You,” Uriel starts staggering forward. Famine stands perfectly still as the battered archangel takes another fumbled step toward me.
“She saved your ass,” Lucas growls.
“My ass wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her,” Uriel fires back. His wounds have healed, but he’s still weak after Paimon drained some of his divinity. Lucas thought I was stronger than Lucifer before. Now I know I’m stronger than Uriel. At least right now. How long it takes an archangel to regained their strength is a question I don’t have an answer for.