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Is there a hint of sarcasm there? Maybe more than a hint?

I hope it’s not far because my arms already ache.

“Do you think they knew we were coming? I mean, it was a bit of a coincidence that they were waiting for us.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Me neither. “The witch has a mark on her arm. Like a black flame. You know who else has one of those?”

“Winter.” He frowns. “You think she could have betrayed us to Lucifer?”

“I don’t know.” And I hope not because Zayne’s going to be really pissed off if we have to kill his girlfriend. And Josh really likes her. But I always had a feeling she was holding something back from us.

“Shut up and move faster,” the witch snaps and someone yanks on my lead and I…move faster.

We’re out of the forest now, which is good—those trees were seriously freaky. The shadowguard have closed ranks around us. I study the one closest to me. I’ve only ever seen their corporeal forms when I’m in the middle of a fight and too preoccupied to take much in. But like this, it’s clear to see that they were once men. Once guardians. Like Khendril. Half-breed Astralis bred to guard the worlds of Valandria and Earth. From my father. But I know a little about how they were treated by Khronus and it’s not good. So maybe they felt justified in their betrayal. He must sense me watching as he turns his head slowly and stares into my eyes. And there’s intelligence there. And a deep burning rage.

I look away.

We’re approaching what looks like the remains of a village now and soon we’re walking between the ruined houses. They must have been pretty cottages once, now fallen into decay. And it occurs to me again that this place wasn’t always as it is now. No lights issue from the blackened windows; shadows stir in the darkness and a faint hissing whisper follows us as we pass.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” I murmur to Khaosti.

“I didn’t. But I do now.”

I’m not sorry when we leave the village behind. I roll my shoulders to ease the ache and stare into the distance where I can see the jagged outline of a black mountain range. One step after another.

It’s weird, I’m really terrified about what’s to come, but at the same time I’m…intrigued. I’m going to meet my father. That’s sort of epic. I get it, he’s totally evil, but he’s still my dad. Apparently, I’ve got his eyes—or so Hecate once told me. Maybe he’ll realize that blood is thicker than water and decide to change his evil ways and become a model father. I snort. And Khaosti glances at me, his brows drawn together. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m not freaking okay. What sort of stupid question is that? I’ve literally gone to Hell. Plus, I’m about to meet my father and my nose is broken.”

“No, it isn’t. Just bruised.”

I sniff. “Broken.”

I stare ahead. I can see our destination. Or at least, I presume it’s our destination. A castle, fit for the High Lord of Hell, looms over the land. It must have been beautiful once, but now the grandeur has long since rotted from within. Its blackened stone towers claw at the bloodstained sky, their tops jagged and crumbling, as if the very air of Hell is gnawing away at the structure piece by piece.

We’re walking along a wide path that leads to the castle, cracked dark stone winding like a scar through a landscape that is neither fully dead nor truly alive. It must have been lined by majestic trees at one point, but nowonly a few remain, their bark blackened and weeping something thick and tar-like. The ground beneath our feet shifts subtly, as though it resents our presence, as though Hell itself is alive and displeased that we are here.

Closer now, I can make out the gates—massive, wrought from black iron, shaped into a snarling mass of twisted figures. I don’t look too closely. The shapes move, writhing, their expressions caught in eternal screams.

My stomach churns and the sour taste of bile crawls up my throat. I wish I could hold Khaosti’s hand. But that’s impossible. The walls are unbelievably high, and shadows pulse along their surface, moving as if aware of our presence, stretching toward us.

A gust of hot wind rolls through the ruined landscape, carrying the scent of charred metal, ash, and something sickly sweet. My stomach tightens. I want to turn and run and hide. My whole lifehas been leading up to this moment. And I have the strangest idea that it will end here. I was never meant to survive this.

And I’m too young to die.

As we approach, the gates begin to open.

Slowly. Silently.

We step through into a courtyard and I can feel the gate closing behind us. There’s no running now. A shadowguard approaches us. He’s dressed in a black and crimson uniform and seems more real than the others. “He wants to see her,” he says.

I’m guessing “he” is my dad and “her” is me. Yippee, I’m going to meet my father at last. For over three years, while I had no memory, I longed for this moment. Obviously, that longing vanished as soon as I remembered just whose daughter I am.

“And take the prince to the dungeons.”

I want to scream no. Our gazes lock. What if I never see him again. What if…