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Part of him understood what was happening, knew that Vivaxia had just betrayed him in the worst of ways. She was forcing her magic into him, awakening his siphoning power, and making him absorb part of her essence.

So she would always be with him.

Framing his mind.

Masking his memories.

Stroking his hatred .

Everything he’d become, everything he’d done, was rooted in this experience. His distrust of women went far deeper than this mere moment of betrayal. It was a seed Vivaxia had planted in his soul.

She hadn’t wanted competition.

Melek was fine. She’d even given him Azazel, too.

But not a female mate.

Never a queen .

Only, she’d sent me to him. I was a woman. A female. A potential mate .

However, she’d groomed me in her own light. Had carved me into a weapon, one she’d fully intended to use. To unlock Vita. To grant her access when the time was right .

I saw it all, her plans, her intentions, the wicked web she’d woven.

Because the Source knew. It had felt her intrusion. Sensed her intentions. Knew she’d crafted the perfect plan to take down its master. Typhos Lucifer .

Which meant Typhos knew, too. On some hidden level, he’d been aware of her endgame. And he’d crafted his own retaliatory moves.

I understood everything now, this game of chess, the strategy at play. The power .

Yet, in a blink, I was back in the Strigoi Palace, balancing on my knees and gasping for breath.

A breath that Vivaxia had allowed me to take.

No , I realized. No, she hadn’t allowed any of this.

The stone in my hand was cold. Dead. Drained of power.

Because it’s inside me now. I could feel it warming my veins, the energy familiar, yet not.

And Vivaxia… wasn’t even looking my way.

How much time has passed? I wondered. Because it felt like several lifetimes in my head, but I suspected it’d only been mere seconds.

Time was elusive when delving through a memory of the past.

Vivaxia’s power swam all around me, holding me on my knees like some sort of doll she’d placed for her amusement. Energy compressed my chest, her mental grip still wrapped around my heart.

I could see those infamous strands again, the signature smokelike tendrils circling my being.

All the Strigoi nearby wore similar bands, the magic clear to my eyes now. And not just because of my siphoning ability.

I simply saw her. The vitality she wielded. Her creationist gifts. It was everywhere. Suffocating the room. Drowning out the free will of the Nightmare Fae.

And it stretched for miles.

Kingdoms.

Throughout the entire realm.

I knew that from the Source, could feel it with my own being.

My gaze narrowed.

This female was heartless. She possessed no compassion for the beings she and her kind had created. Considered everyone her servant. Took lives for her own personal amusement. And all because she wanted to become some insane Goddess with a creationism complex.

She had destroyed the Virtuous Fae Source. Not Typhos. Not Melek. But her . With her derisive games meant to tempt her fellow fae to sin .

And I once thought Typhos Lucifer was the devil .

He was the true angel of this story.

The hero.

The one who bore the world on his back and saved the innocent.

This female—this bitch —was the one who deserved to fall . For good.

I pushed to my feet, causing her to glance at me in surprise, one wicked eyebrow rising. “Well, that’s interesting.” She tilted her head. “Trying to use the gifts I’ve given you against me?”

The stone pulsed back to life in my palm, surprising me, as it’d been dead moments ago.

But it felt very much alive right now.

And it was trying to tell me something.

Energy hummed inside me. Energy I recognized. Energy that came from my mates .

Not the rock.

However, the stone shot a similar jolt up my arm to meet the power warming my being.

Vivaxia said something about giving it my best shot, but I ignored her and instead focused on the competing energies inside me.

My mates were empowering me. I could feel them deep inside. That pulse to my heart before had been them. And something about it had triggered Typhos’s memory.

Or… or maybe that had been the death stone.

It’s a siphon. Typhos is a siphon. I’m a siphon.

It was all related.

My mates were sending power into Typhos, and it was coming directly to me. Via the Source .

Such a convoluted mess of power, but it allowed me to see and feel so much. It granted me the keys to my kingdom. My realm. As the Hell Fae Queen.

Vivaxia sat on the throne, looking regal as fuck, likely feeling as though she’d already won. Because all these beings were under her spell, their souls tied to hers as she forced them to do her bidding.

But what happens when the strings are cut? I wondered, stroking her power. What happens when a siphon swallows the spell whole?

I canted my head, just like she’d done countless times in Typhos’s memories, and even in my own. “You made a mistake, Vivaxia,” I told her. “And that mistake is going to unravel thousands of years of planning.”

My words were intentional, my power already seeking out every strand she’d woven through this realm. Every hint of magic that didn’t belong. Every speck of vitality that belonged to her .

“Oh?” she asked, leaning forward. “Do share.”

“I’m not yours,” I said simply.

Then I yanked on her ribbons, my siphoning ability fully engaged.

Her enchantment began to fray at the edges.

And in a blink, her sinister web started to unravel .