Page 165 of As Above, So Below

Demons will ravage Ollora, not stopping until they’re put down.

If not prepared, Ollora will fall in the span of a few hours.

I suck in a sharp breath, holding it tight in my chest.

Netharis’ threat is a risky one.

It’s as if he expects me to fold before it comes to that.

And honestly, I might.

Forcing a large number of demons and undead through the veil into the living realm will weaken it, upsetting the balance. It’s one of the reasons Netharis is limited to thirteen Death Bringers—he would have more if the pantheon of gods would allow it.

The other gods will notice the breach, but how long will it take them to react? To stop Netharis’ forces? To save the mortals of Ollora?

Can I do that?

Can I wait for the gods to stop Netharis?

And what happens if they do nothing?

Just like the prayers they leave unanswered.

Netharis will continue to be a threat for as long as he exists.

My eyes dart over my shoulder to my bed, falling upon the messenger bag Eve had brought with her following dinner. Lilith had shown me to these quarters in the northern wing, Eve’s room a dozen yards down the hall.

With a swift kiss upon my brow, Ryc ordered me removed from the dining room and Lilith complied.

I didn’t fight.

I didn’t argue.

I simply let her take me, Eve following in my wake.

The chaos of the dining room fell silent behind closed doors as Lilith led me through the halls, up several flights of stairs and down various corridors. She provided a quick tour of the expansive suite before shutting the door after her and leaving me to myself.

The bag holds everything I’d brought with me from the hells andthe bloodstone dagger Ryc had gifted me.

Do I have what it takes to stand against a god?

Can I kill my father?

It’s the only way I’ll ever be free of him.

Our contract will be considered complete if he no longer exists. I doubt Netharis added a death clause—what god expects to die? But it means returning to the hells after all, likely for good.

Zuriel helped me escape once, I doubt he would help me again.

And even if he would, I’ve no means of reaching him.

Rising, I move across the room toward the balcony doors.

Hours have passed since I’ve seen Ryc last.

Reaching for that gold rope, I feel for Ryc through our channel.

The deafening silence that greets me is not surprising. But I hate it all the same. He’s warded himself against me, knowing I’d barrage him with questions.