Page 39 of Princess of Bael

“All progeny carry value,” Scion murmured softly, his gaze flicking to the Nephilim again as he spoke.

Ashmedai merely smirked in reply.

Azrael appeared ready to kill everyone in the forest.

Valisa’s gaze had turned misty.

Morax’s expression gave nothing away.

And Zerak just scratched his chin and checked his watch—the technology not of this realm, as it was the Archangel of Time’s personal device. The subtle twist of his lips told me the timetable for the war had just shifted and he could see it coming.

“When?” I asked him, interrupting whatever Mietek had just been saying.

Zerak met my gaze, his silvery gray irises the same shade as his skin, hair, and feathers. It wasn’t often that he ventured to Earth, his abnormal coloring and striking features marking him as distinctly otherworldly. Even if he tucked in his wings, like Azrael and Mietek were doing now, he would still appear too different to pass for a human.

“Two decades and falling,” he replied, blinking. “Eighteen years now. Seventeen. Holding. Eighteen again. Fourteen.” He shook his head. “It’s… jumping. Rapidly.”

“We need to make a decision,” Azrael declared, his age and superiority showing. He wasn’t an Archangel like the rest of us, but that didn’t diminish his powers in the slightest. “Standing here debating what has happened and casting blame isn’t going to fix any of this. We have a chance to alter the path and control the destruction, but the longer we discuss it, the shorter our window becomes.”

“Eleven years,” Zerak said, his tone one of agreement rather than one of warning.

“What do you recommend?” Dariel asked, the condescension in his tone ruffling my nerves. The Archangel of Concealment always presented himself as this superior being for reasons I didn’t understand. He was old, yes, but not nearly as ancient as Azrael. And his claim to fame was his attributes—multicolored eyes and shifting hair—that allowed him to blend in like a chameleon. Just like his brother.

Really fucking magnificent,I thought, narrowing my gaze.Absolutely worthy of your damn arrogance.

Of course, Dariel seemed to reserve this side of himself for situations that exclusively involved me. From what I’d heard, he didn’t act this way around anyone else. However, because I’d been chosen for the job of guarding the Divinity over him, he enjoyed pointing out my flaws at every turn.

He’d been the one to advocate for my removal after I’d bonded with Kayla.

He’d lost, something he would no doubt bring up again soon and point to this situation as an “I told you so” comment.

“Johanna and Lucía will remain with Bael and Alastor,” Azrael stated, glancing at the two females still on their knees.

Dariel opened his mouth, likely to argue, but Azrael silenced him with a raised hand.

“Alastor and Bael have a myriad of guards to protect them and any assets they hold dear.” Azrael’s tone said this wasn’t up for debate. “Hell’s terrain is also difficult to traverse and easier to hide in than any other realm. It’s the most difficult plane to track power through, too.”

He was right. It helped that the realms constantly shifted down there, too. Unlike Heaven, which was one sprawling landscape where all angels lived and traveled freely, similar to how transportation in the human realm worked, only we used our feathers, not airplanes.

“Why Alastor and Bael?” Dariel asked, either not hearing Azrael’s implied command not to argue or ignoring it entirely. “Why not send them to their Archdemon fathers?”

“Yes, have they even been notified?” Morax drawled. “Because I certainly wasn’t. Not the best alert in the world to be drawn to a place due to the death of a kin.”

“Like you ever cared,” Valisa spat at him.

“Oh?” He arched a dark red brow. “Was I given a choice in that matter, or was it taken from me?”

“You’re not the one who bore her.”

“But I did help create her,” he bit back.

“The fathers would be too predictable,” Mietek interjected, returning the conversation to its course as Zerak hummed at whatever he saw on his watch.

“It could also tip the scales,” Ashmedai added. “Orcus and Kore have not shown any signs of growth. Therefore, they do not require the outlet that Bael and Alastor do.”

Both Bael and Alastor cast suspicious glances at Ashmedai. “What do you know?” Bael demanded.

“More than either of you,” Ashmedai replied succinctly, causing the Nephilim beside him to roll her hazel eyes.