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Chapter Twenty-Three

RATHIEL

We flew with a particular destination in mind. It had been Calyx’s idea, and though I didn’t like it—bad memories and all that—I couldn’t argue with the logic. We needed somewhere to regroup, somewhere Lucifer’s forces wouldn’t immediately think to search.

The ruins of the old rebellion camp were as good a place as any.

The flight would take hours, but on foot, it would have taken days. And days didn’t work for me. Not with Lily still unconscious in my arms. I wanted somewhere safe, which didn’t exist in Hell. Not for her. Not for any of us. But we would make do with what little choices we had.

I adjusted my grip on Lily, tucking her against me, shielding her from the blistering wind.

I couldn’t help but wonder which memory she was currently reliving. There were too many possibilities. There were some I wished I could relive with her—moments of quiet when it’d been just the two of us, stolen minutes between battles, when she’d laughed, when we’d come together, when we could simply be us .

But there were other memories. Ones I truly would have given anything to keep her from reliving. The pain. The losses. The moments that had shaped her into what she was, whether she liked it or not. The nights spent running. The betrayals we’d faced. The agony of her father ripping the wings from her back, of massacring her forces, her friends.

I loathed the thought of her trapped in those moments again.

But I also understood.

She wasn’t merely remembering. She was rebuilding herself.

I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Getting her somewhere safe.

Calyx flew at my side with Eliza held securely in his arms—a feat she clearly did not appreciate. She’d locked her arms around his neck, her face twisted in irritation as the wind whipped her hair across her face. She glared at him. He grinned at her. That seemed to sum up their dynamic.

At least he hadn’t dropped her.

As a collective, we’d decided it best for Vol to ride in his little pouch, the strap fastened around Lily as I carried her to keep him from flying off into oblivion. It should have been enough to protect him, but the little imp had clearly decided to sneak a peek. His head poked out from the pouch, ears flattened by the wind, his tiny claws gripping the edge like he was enjoying the ride of his life. His grin was pure satisfaction, his fangs glinting in the eternal hellish light.

Of course he was enjoying himself.

Purrgy, on the other hand, was not.

The damned cat had been the real challenge. And not for the first time, I found myself questioning Lily’s decision to bring him. We’d decided it best to lock him in his carrier, which we’d then hung over my shoulder. But as brave a beast he was, not even the wind could drown out the cat’s screams. Loud, yowling complaints that hadn’t stopped since we took off. His carrier jostled against my side as he scrambled around inside it. He was going to make someone’s life a living hell when we landed. Probably mine.

If we made it that far, of course.

And based on the one, two, three, four, five black specks cutting through the horizon, flying toward us, I’d wager good money on us not making it at all.

I couldn’t see their faces, but I didn’t need to. The fallen’s formation alone told me everything I needed to know. A battle wedge. Not a pursuit formation. An attack pattern. One I had drilled into them long ago.

I pulled up, halting midair. My wings beat steadily, keeping us aloft despite the extra weight. A second later, Calyx did the same, coming to a hovering stop beside me.

Eliza went rigid in his arms, her grip visibly tightening around his neck as her gaze locked on the approaching fallen. Her narrowed eyes told me she was already analyzing the situation. And her crumpling expression told me she’d come to the same conclusion as me.

We were fucked.

Calyx and I were carrying too much weight—him with Eliza, me with Lily, Vol, and Purrgy. Neither of us had the maneuverability we needed to survive a fight. The odds were already bad with five against three, but it was even worse with two of us burdened, and the third unable to fly. The battle would not end in our favour.

“Well. This is unfortunate,” Calyx said.

Eliza shot him a look, her jaw tight. “Unfortunate? That’s what you’re going with?”

He shrugged, entirely too calm for someone about to get torn apart midair. “Would you rather I panic?”

She looked like she was considering hitting him.

I shot Calyx a glance. “Tell me where you stand. Right now.”

His pale gaze shot from me to the other fallen. He understood the question, and for once, I appreciated that he took the time to consider before answering. A beat passed. Then another. Finally, he nodded. “With you. And Lily.”

Eliza’s shock was almost comical. I didn’t blame her. Part of me had expected him to turn on us, too. But we had something he desperately wanted—or at least the means to gain it. And for all his games, Calyx wasn’t a liar. He didn’t want to fight his brethren. Neither did I. But we’d drawn our line in the sand, and they hadn’t crossed it with us.

“Are you willing to do what it takes?” I asked.

“There are other means,” Calyx said. “We don’t have to kill anyone.”

I shook my head. “If you hesitate, we die. Do you understand me? If you’re not ready to end this fight, don’t start it.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. Then he cursed under his breath. “Fine. I will do whatever it takes.” His wings flexed. “I will be free of him .”

“Good.” I surveyed the land below. There was only one option.

“Down?” Calyx asked.

I nodded. “Down.”

We needed solid ground. I needed my hands free. And Eliza needed to be in the fight.

Calyx and I angled downward, cutting a descent. Lily’s weight made my balance trickier, but I adjusted. We hit the ground seconds later, my boots kicking up dust. Calyx landed beside me, dropping Eliza with a bit too much enthusiasm.

She immediately righted herself, blades drawn.

I laid Lily, Vol, and Purrgy down, fast but careful, before dropping the pack and reaching for my sword.

Calyx cursed. “They’re not slowing down.”

Of course they weren’t. They had the advantage—more numbers, better positioning, and the ability to strike from above. For a brief moment, panic needled its way through my ribs. Lily was defenseless. If they realized that?—

I forced the thought down. Fear had no place here. Not if I wanted to win. I just needed to draw blood. One cut, and my power would do the rest.

We could do this.

Because we had no other choice.

I gripped my sword and waited, watching as our former brethren closed in.

A blur of movement from the west suddenly caught my attention. I snapped my gaze toward it.

More figures. More wings.

The fallen hesitated. Their formation wavered as their attention also moved to the oncoming force.

Calyx stiffened beside me. “Is that…?”

It took a second for my vision to make out the thirty-foot-long scaled bodies streaking toward us. To see the celestial bracketing them, golden hair gleaming like a damn beacon.

A slow grin spread across my lips.

Levi.

The fallen still flying toward us recognized him too, if their jilted movement was any indication.

Mephisar and Sable cut through the sky like black daggers, their massive hellwyrm forms coiling through the air with impossible agility for creatures their size. And nestled on Mephisar’s back was Gorr. The ravager clung to the hellwyrm’s back, his claws gripping Mephisar’s scaled hide. His nostrils flared as he bared his fangs, his entire body coiled in anticipation. I knew that stance. I’d seen it before.

He was waiting for the signal to drop.

Levi led the charge, his wings slicing through the sky. He shot toward me, and gestured with his sword arm, silently ordering us to run .

Tactical retreats were sometimes necessary. And in this case, we needed to get Lily to safety.

“Eliza—go,” I barked.

She didn’t argue. She turned and sprinted toward Lily. Without breaking stride, she slung Lily—Vol included—over her shoulder, grunting slightly from the weight but moving all the same.

Calyx hesitated, his gaze vacillating between me and the battle about to unfold.

With Levi, Mephisar, Sable, and Gorr here, I didn’t need him. And Lily had promised to keep him off Lucifer’s radar. Deciding to spare him this battle, I said, “Go with Eliza.”

His fingers twitched against the hilt of his blade.

This wasn’t just a fight. These were his brothers and sisters. I could tell by the way he gripped his sword that he didn’t want to leave. Not because he wanted to kill them, but because he didn’t want to abandon them to fight the hellwyrms and Levi without them. But he couldn’t stay. Not after the promise he’d sworn to Lily. If he wanted his freedom, he either had to fight with us, or leave. The choice was his to make.

And he made it.

With a curse, he snatched up the pack with Purrgy, then turned and sprinted after Eliza. He knew the way to the rebellion camp, and he would get Eliza and Lily there safely.

I gripped my sword and waited, holding my position. If I ran, there wouldn’t be anyone to stop the fallen who got past Levi and the hellwyrms from going after Lily. And I couldn’t allow that.

Mephisar and Sable streaked toward the fallen like twin shadows, banking at the last second as Gorr leapt. His hulking mass dropped like a boulder, hitting the nearest fallen—Ezrion—mid-flight and dragging him straight out of the sky.

Ezrion barely had time to react before they crashed to the ground, the impact sending up a thick cloud of dust and ash.

Levi dove next.

He shot past Gavrel, his blade flashing as he clipped Gavrel’s wing. Gavrel snarled, spiraling as he fought to correct his flight path. Miriel and Raelia scattered, breaking formation entirely.

I was about to take to the air, to join the battle, when Gremory dropped in front of me, his landing forceful enough to crack the ground. The impact sent energy rippling through the air, dust curling around him like the remnants of a fading storm.

A cold determination settled over me. I’d faced Gremory twice before. The first time, he’d escaped. The second, Lily, Eliza, and I had jumped through the gate. This time, the only outcome would be death—either his or mine. And I refused to let it be mine. I had someone waiting for me.

I tightened my grip on my weapon, my body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance.

Gremory and I stared at each other for a long moment, the battle raging behind him, Levi and the hellwyrms keeping the others occupied. Gremory tucked his wings away, his silver hair hanging in disheveled strands. But his blue eyes burned with cold, cutting precision.

“Brother,” he said, his voice still hoarse.

I didn’t respond. There was nothing left to say.

Gremory’s power curled over us like a promise. The air thickened with the scent of something wrong—like scorched iron and decayed bone. It was his magic. His carnage.

He attacked. Moved faster than I’d ever seen him move before.

I’d barely raised my sword before his blade blurred in a silver arc that split the air between us. I pivoted, blocking the strike, but the impact jarred my bones. He didn’t let up. His attacks came in merciless succession, each movement perfectly calculated to dismantle my defense.

I forced him back with a counterstrike, angling my blade toward his ribs. He twisted, letting it graze his side—but it wasn’t hesitation. It was bait.

His magic struck before I could retreat.

The ground between us collapsed inward, the rock and ash disintegrating into dust. I leapt back just in time, my wings flaring, but Gremory’s carnage was already ripping through the space around us.

He thrust his hand forward, and the very air between us fractured. A line of disintegration cut through the battlefield like a blade. I ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding a patch of ground that simply ceased to exist.

But the attack wasn’t over.

Gremory’s hand clenched into a fist, and something behind me exploded.

The shockwave sent me flying, my side colliding with an outcrop of stone. The force knocked the breath from my lungs, and pain tore through my ribs as I crashed into the dirt. My sword almost slipped from my grasp.

I forced myself to my feet just as Gremory advanced. His wings beat once, closing the distance in an instant.

He feinted left—then slammed his fist into my side.

Agony erupted within me. My ribs cracked beneath the impact, a splintering pain that nearly dropped me to my knees. The moment my footing faltered, his blade flashed downward, aiming for my exposed shoulder.

I moved on instinct and dodged his downward strike. His wings flared wide, sending a gust of force through the battlefield, stirring up ash and embers. The disintegration still rippled through the space behind me, consuming whatever it touched—stone, dust, air.

Fuck, he was strong. Stronger than I remembered.

Then his magic changed. It became suffocating, a weight pressing down on my bones, seeping into my skin, like something ancient and hungry.

His hand glowed, black veins of energy crackling across his fingers. Realization dawned at the sight of those spindly veins. That was Lucifer’s power. He must have infused Gremory with his own magic.

Fuck.

A pulse of magic exploded from Gremory’s palm, aimed directly at me. I twisted, wings straining to lift me away, but it was faster. The force struck me square in the chest, ripping the air from my lungs as it threw me backward.

I slammed into the ground, my back skidding over the cracked stone as Gremory advanced, closing the distance between us in an instant.

I forced myself up just in time to block his next strike.

Steel met steel, but the impact sent a shockwave through my arm, rattling down to my bones. My blade slid against his, forcing his weapon just enough to the side to give me an opening. I drove my elbow into his ribs.

Gremory let out a grunt, but before I could press the advantage, his free hand came up.

I saw it too late.

A tendril of dark energy lashed out from his palm and coiled around my wrist like a living thing.

Then another.

And another.

I snarled, jerking back, but his magic wound tighter, locking me in place. It wasn’t just restraining me—it was suffocating me. I could feel it, like tar seeping into my skin, making it impossible to move. The more I struggled, the stronger the hold became.

“You always fought like a soldier,” Gremory mused, his grip tightening. “Like there were rules. There aren’t, Rathiel. Not anymore.” He lifted his hand and summoned his magic, blackness encompassing his entire hand.

“Like the new me?” he asked. “Lucifer chose to imbue me with his might. With his power. And now…now I’m unstoppable.”

With a flick of his wrist, the tendrils yanked me forward. His knee drove into my gut, hard enough that pain erupted through my injured ribs.

Then he threw me.

I crashed to the ground, my wings crumpling beneath me, pain lighting up every nerve in my body. I struggled to push myself up, but Gremory was already there.

He drove a boot against my chest, pinning me in place.

“Stay down,” he sneered, his wings spreading behind him, casting him in shadow.

His hand glowed again.

Another pulse of magic exploded outward. This time, it didn’t throw me—it locked me down.

The magic coiled around my limbs like invisible chains, holding me against the broken ground. It was crushing, unrelenting. I could barely breathe. My muscles tensed as I fought against it, but the more I struggled, the heavier it became.

Gremory knelt beside me, his expression eerily calm.

“I always thought you were a waste of space,” Gremory said. “Hardly as important as you—and Lucifer—thought you were.”

I forced out a breath, vision blurred from the pain. But I managed to say, “Funny. I always thought you were just a self-important prick.”

His expression darkened. He shifted his boot, pressing down harder.

“You’re going to beg before this is over, Rathiel.”

I bared my teeth in a grin, despite the agony splintering through my ribs. “Then you don't know me as well as you think you do.”

A shadow leapt into the air behind Gremory.

Gorr.

Teeth bared, the ravager struck.

Gorr’s hulking form descended in a blur of dark hide and ridged horns, his jaws snapping shut around Gremory’s throat with bone-crushing force. The impact knocked Gremory off me as Gorr’s weight dragged him to the ground.

A strangled, wet snarl tore from Gremory’s lips as Gorr’s fangs sank deep, splitting flesh, unleashing a torrent of crimson. The scent of blood hit the air like a war cry—hot, powerful, celestial.

And mine to command.

Gremory’s magic fractured, his grip on me loosening just enough for me to shove free of the invisible hold. I rolled onto my knees, gasping against the pain in my ribs, my wings flaring wide as I forced myself upright. My fingers curled, calling the blood from Gremory’s wound, and it responded.

The crimson droplets quivered, then lifted, twisting into thin, razor-sharp daggers next to me.

Gremory roared, his power flaring. A shockwave of carnage magic blasted outward, slamming into Gorr with enough force to tear the ravager off him. Gorr snarled as Gremory threw him back, but the beast was resilient—he twisted his body, claws digging into the ground to steady himself, already preparing for another attack.

Gremory staggered upright, his hand clutching the gaping wound at his throat, dark magic curling around his fingers in a desperate attempt to knit himself back together.

But not before I struck.

I launched forward, my blood-forged blades slicing through the air. Gremory barely had time to react before the first dagger carved across his ribs, slicing through armor and skin alike. He snarled as he reeled back, but I was already on him.

Another slash. Another wound. More blood.

He tried to summon another shockwave, but I was faster. I turned his own blood against him, moulding it into spiked tendrils that shot toward him like arrows.

One pierced his arm.

Another shot through his chest.

The third drove straight through his wing joint.

Gremory let out a strangled roar, his body jerking violently as the spikes impaled him. And for the first time in centuries, he looked at me with something close to disbelief.

“You—” he gasped, blood speckling his lips.

I drove my sword straight into his shoulder, twisting it, carving deeper. I pulled more of his blood into the air, more power into my grasp. His magic lashed out in response, pure destruction rippling outward, but this time, I braced for it.

I gritted my teeth, absorbing the impact, my wings bracing against the force.

Gorr lunged again, slamming into Gremory’s back, his claws sinking into the fallen’s shoulders, his fangs snapping at his throat.

Gremory gritted his teeth, pure power rippling from his body in a desperate final attempt to break free.

I yanked my blade from his shoulder and, using every ounce of strength I had left, drove my knee straight into his ribs.

His body lurched, his breath tearing from his lungs in a violent cough of blood.

For the first time, I saw it.

Doubt.

He knew he wasn’t going to win this fight.

I clenched my fist, and the blood I’d drawn from him surged at my command.

It rose in twisting ribbons, coiling midair, the droplets merging, condensing, reshaping. The air pulsed with unnatural pressure as the fluid solidified, forming something massive—something final.

A massive blade the size of a machete.

Towering, grotesque, carved from Gremory’s own essence, the edge gleamed dark and wet, its form crude but undeniable in its lethality.

Gremory’s eyes widened.

“No—” he snarled, staggering back, his hand rising as if he could undo what had already begun.

I swung my arm and the blade obeyed.

It cleaved through him, separating his head cleanly from his body.

For half a second, it hung in the air, his expression frozen in something between fury and disbelief. Then it dropped, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

His body crumpled an instant later, collapsing into a heap of blood and broken wings.

I straightened, stretching out my aching body. But my injuries didn’t matter. Because Gremory was dead. His head lay in the dirt, his face still twisted in an expression that was half fury and half disbelief. His body slumped beside it, wings limp, blood pooling beneath him in dark, sluggish rivulets.

A weight I hadn’t realized I carried lifted.

The battle behind me had quieted, and I lifted my gaze.

Mephisar stood several yards away, black scales glistening under Hell’s dim light. Blood drenched his maw and dripped from his massive fangs. Raelia lay in ruin at his feet, her body split in half, her torso barely recognizable beneath the jagged marks where he had torn her apart. One of her legs twitched in the dirt, the last shuddering remnants of life fading from her shredded corpse.

Mephisar happily crunched down on something. Bone—a chunk of Raelia’s ribcage.

His glowing eyes gleamed in satisfaction as he tore another bite from her lifeless form.

Across the field, Ezrion, Gavrel, and Miriel stood motionless, their expressions frozen in a mix of horror and disbelief.

Gremory was dead. Raelia was being devoured. And they had lost.

Gavrel’s chaos wavered, the unnatural ripples distorting the air around him growing weak and inconsistent. His grip on his weapon tightened, his knuckles white with tension.

Ezrion’s flames sputtered against his fingertips as his gaze darted from me to Gremory’s corpse, and then to Raelia’s remains beneath Mephisar’s massive form.

Miriel took a slow, trembling step backward.

For all their power, all their arrogance, they hadn’t expected this.

I took a single step forward, my blood-forged blade still hovering next to me.

Ezrion took flight first, streaking toward the horizon. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look back.

Gavrel followed a heartbeat later. His chaos magic surged in a single pulse. It was just enough to throw dust and debris into the air, to cover his retreat as he shot skyward, his form twisting and vanishing into the haze above.

Miriel lingered. Just for a second.

Her pestilence curled at her fingertips, but she didn’t attack. She just looked at me. Then she turned and fled.

It was done, and our side had won. This time.

Levi dropped down beside me. We stared at each other, then clasped hands and wrists in a silent thanks.

“Well,” he mused. “That was satisfying.”

I huffed a disbelieving laugh, then glanced at Mephisar, still happily feasting on Raelia. My stomach churned, but I’d long-since learned never to question a hellwyrm, lest you become their next meal.

“Thank you,” I said. “Without your timely arrival, I have no doubt Lily and I would be the headless ones right now. How did you find us?”

Levi chuckled and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “The two of you tend to leave a bloody path in your wake. But we can chat later, after we’ve reached Lily. I know of two hellwyrms and one ravager who would love nothing more than to see her.”

“And an angel too. Mustn’t forget you.”

He smiled. “Indeed. Shall we?”

“Let’s,” was all I said. My questions could wait until after I’d fed and we were safe at Lily’s side.