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Chapter Twenty-Four

LILY

I stood on the battlefield, wings flared and stared at Lucifer.

Power draped over him like a mantle, the sheer force of it making the air hum. His pitch-black wings stretched behind him, vast and terrible. He didn’t need to speak to command obedience. He never had. He simply was . The strongest presence in the wasteland. The most dangerous.

And he was looking right at me.

No, not looking. Glaring . Most likely mentally ripping me apart.

I focused on breathing and fought to stay focused. My heart was steady, my hands firm, but something inside me…wavered. Because this wasn’t just an enemy. This wasn’t just another war.

This was him .

My father.

In a perfect world, he would have been the one who raised and shaped me. But in my world, he was my biggest tormentor. The greatest risk to my survival.

And now I stood across the battlefield from him, my army at my back, blade in hand. Ready to kill him. Ready to die trying.

I let my gaze sweep over the field, taking stock of the forces gathered on both sides.

The divide between us was a chasm I could never cross, not again.

At his back stood his fallen, the warriors he had forged from Heaven’s discarded. All of them were here—Gremory, Gavrel, Ezrion, Raelia, Tavira, Miriel, Zera, Calyx—except Rathiel, who stood with me.

But my eyes didn’t stop on any of them.

Because beside Lucifer, just behind his wings, stood Deidre.

Something in my chest twisted .

The last time I’d seen her, she had betrayed me. Had stood right where she was standing now, beside my father, choosing him over me. But seeing her here—knowing she was still his , still serving at his side—hit harder than I expected.

Had I ever really known her? Had she ever been mine ? Or had every smile, every laugh, every secret shared been a carefully curated lie, designed to keep me from seeing the truth?

My throat tightened, but I shoved the emotion down. This was not the time for that.

Instead, I turned my focus to the warriors who had my back.

Korrak stood like an unmovable mountain at my side, his massive brimlord frame radiating heat like a living volcano. He didn’t waver, didn’t flinch at Lucifer’s presence, his molten fissures pulsing steadily. War was all he had ever known. He thrived in it.

Varz stood just a few feet behind him, the netheron’s crimson skin gleaming under Hell’s burning light, his slitted golden eyes fixed ahead. Lucifer had bred the netherons for this, sculpted them for violence and bloodshed, but there was nothing calculative in his stance. He was waiting, watching for the right moment to strike.

Calder, as usual, looked unbothered. He’d loosely folded his arms and shifted his weight to one side, as if he were watching a play rather than standing on the brink of death. But I knew better. I’d fought beside him for long enough now. The moment chaos broke, he’d be the first one to move, slipping between the shadows, carving through our enemies before they even knew he was there.

Gorr prowled at my other side, a deep growl rolling through his chest. His massive body shifted restlessly, claws flexing, dark eyes locked onto Lucifer’s fallen as though he craved to crush them.

Sareth stood just behind him, her dark horns curving back, her coal-black eyes glittering with something akin to hunger. She lived for this—the game, the tension, the thrill of knowing death was breathing down our necks. But more than that, she lived for freedom . And she had fought too hard to let Lucifer take it away from her now.

Mephisar and Sable loomed farther back, their sinuous forms coiling through the air, and black scales glistening as they waited for the command to strike.

Levi stood to my left, his golden hair gleaming like a damn beacon in the dim hellscape. He and I were the only true celestials on this battlefield. And Lucifer’s gaze had shot to him more than once, assessing, calculating. Levi’s wings shifted slightly, his sword angled at his side.

And finally, Rathiel. He stood at my right, the same place he’d once stood for Lucifer.

But this time, it was for me.

By his own choice.

His wings stretched behind him, dark and formidable, a stark contrast to the celestial glow of Levi’s on my other side.

Lucifer took a step forward. Just one. The battlefield held its breath. His fallen did not move. His hellspawn did not shift. He was the only force that mattered. The only presence that dictated when this war would begin.

And yet—for the first time in history of Hell—he was not the only one with power here.

The rebellion had my back. They had put their trust in me, believed in me with such conviction. The presence of my generals, my soldiers, my people grounded me and gave me strength. As did their belief that I—not Lucifer—was the one worth following.

My father saw it, too.

He studied them. Studied me. And then, finally, his eyes cut back to Rathiel.

Lucifer tilted his head, his cold amusement barely masking the storm beneath. He let the silence stretch, let the weight of his attention settle on Rathiel like a blade poised at the throat.

And then, in a voice quiet but absolute, he said, “You disappoint me.”

Rathiel didn’t move. He simply held Lucifer’s gaze, his stance unwavering.

For anyone else, those words would have been enough to shatter them. Lucifer’s disappointment was a sentence worse than death. It was condemnation, annihilation. A promise that whatever came next would be painful, unyielding, unending.

But Rathiel didn’t cower.

Lucifer studied him for a long moment, his eyes gleaming with something dark, something deeply displeased.

“Tell me,” he called from across the field. “What lies did my sweet daughter offer you? Did she promise you your freedom?” A cutting smile curved his lips. “Did you truly believe I would let your betrayal stand?”

Rathiel lifted his chin and held my father’s gaze, unflinching. His defiance had struck a nerve, if my father’s thunderous expression was any indication. But he didn’t speak. Didn’t bother answering any of my father’s questions. It would be pointless to do so. Lucifer would warp Rathiel’s answers in any way he saw fit.

“You are a fool,” my father said. “And you will die alongside her.”

Rathiel’s lips curled slightly, the barest ghost of a smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Something in Lucifer snapped.

I barely had time to react before the air imploded, before power—raw, undiluted, suffocating—ripped toward us like a living storm.

My hellfire roared to life, my fingers curling into fists as I met his attack with my own, my magic slamming into his with enough force to shake the very ground beneath us.

The battlefield trembled.

Lucifer’s lips parted in something that might have been a grin.

And then, with a voice as calm as the storm before a massacre, he said, “Bring me their heads.”

The battlefield exploded into chaos.

Lucifer’s command sent his army surging forward, the hellspawn sprinting across the field toward my forces. But it was the fallen who held my attention. The eight of them took to the skies, zipping toward us, their wings blotting out the light. One by one, they descended upon us. I barely had time to think before the first attack came.

Flames exploded to my left, dividing my army and separating me from Calder and Varz. I reached for the flames in an attempt to take control when another blast erupted to my right, cutting me off from Rathiel, Korrak, and Levi. In mere seconds, Ezrion had isolated me from my allies.

Inferno’s Kiss in hand, I summoned my own fire, about to unleash a torrent of flame on the fallen, when Korrak came charging through the surrounding blaze, immune to the heat. Another brimlord lunged for him, but Korrak punched the brimlord down, then crushed its head beneath his clawed foot, its skull snapping like brittle twigs.

Gremory dropped from the sky, his blade a streak of silver aimed at my head. Rathiel intercepted midair, his blade clipping one of Gremory’s wings without hesitation. The two fell to the ground in a chaotic battle for control. Their movements were a blur, fast and brutal, two masters of war locked in a deadly dance.

A wall of bodies crashed together as my forces met Lucifer’s in a storm of steel, fire, and blood. The ground trembled beneath the weight of countless combatants colliding, the air thick with the clash of blades and screams of battle.

A hellspawn lunged for me, fangs bared, its hulking form covered in spined armor. I leapt into the air and pivoted, Inferno’s Kiss flashing in my grip as I slashed through its throat. Black blood gushed from the wound as it staggered, its dying snarl lost in the surrounding cacophony. Another charged from behind. I twisted, ducking beneath its outstretched claws and raking my blade across its gut, splitting it open in one clean stroke. It fell with a shriek, but before its body even hit the ground, another took its place.

I met it with fire.

Flames roared from my free hand, engulfing the oncoming hellspawn in searing blue heat. It howled as my fire reduced it to cinders, but the moment it fell, another enemy surged forward. They were endless, waves of them pouring into my ranks, but my forces held.

For a solid minute.

Until a pulse rippled through the battlefield, something unseen but undeniable. A weight in the air, a twisting, unnatural disturbance that crawled beneath the skin and sent a whisper of unease through the mind.

I knew that feeling—had experienced it myself many times throughout the course of my life.

Gavrel had entered the fight.

He didn’t charge in with brute force like the others. He didn’t meet me head-on. No—he moved through my ranks, his presence unraveling the very foundation of my forces.

I felt it before I saw it—a creeping sensation, a disturbance in the flow of battle itself. The fluidity of my soldiers faltered, movements turning sluggish, uncertain. Brimlords shouted their orders, but they went unheard as confusion spread through the ranks like a sickness.

And then the real damage began.

I turned just in time to see two of my own soldiers turn on each other.

One slashed their blade across their comrade’s throat, their face twisted in unrecognizable rage. Another grabbed a fellow soldier and drove a dagger into their ribs, horror widening their eyes even as they committed the act.

Chaos.

Pure, undiluted, mind-breaking chaos.

Gavrel moved among them, his mere presence a poison in the mind of my forces. He didn’t need to lift his blade—his power was disruption, and he wielded it like a master.

I had to get to him, had to put him down before he turned all my forces.

Already, his influence was spreading—more of my soldiers hesitating, second-guessing their movements, their formations breaking apart. He hadn’t even drawn his blade yet, and still, he was undoing everything I had built.

I reached for my hellfire, ready to set him ablaze if only to put a stop to his influence.

But then Tavira stepped into my path.

Her beasts prowled around her, half-formed specters of great hellcats that flickered like dying embers, their eyes glowing with an eerie, unnatural light. Their paws barely made a sound as they moved, silent hunters waiting for the command to strike.

I swung Inferno’s Kiss, sending a blaze of fire at her, but the moment the flames neared, one of her spirit beasts leapt into their path. It incinerated in an instant, but it gave Tavira the moment she needed to attack.

I barely had time to process what had happened before she was on me, moving too fast to track. A gust of wind whipped past my face—her clawed hand slicing down in a deadly arc toward my throat. I dodged, but her beasts followed, their spectral fangs snapping and claws tearing through my shadows.

I struck out, my blade cutting through the nearest one, but it didn’t bleed. It merely dissipated like smoke, only to reform an instant later, snarling.

I gritted my teeth. This wasn’t going to be easy.

Tavira lunged, her form shifting mid-motion, a shadow of a great beast phasing around her, mirroring her movements. I met her strike with a blast of hellfire, forcing her back a step, but she was relentless, her claws flashing as she came at me again, her spirit beasts lunging in perfect synchrony.

I parried one attack before another came from my blind spot, a massive ghostly tiger snapping at my side. I twisted, slashing at it, but Tavira was already moving again, pressing her advantage.

And then came a roar.

The ground quaked as Mephisar and Sable crashed through the battlefield, their massive hellwyrm forms tearing into Lucifer’s forces like a storm of teeth and scale. Mephisar’s maw clamped down on a fallen, his powerful jaws crushing bone as he lifted the body into the air and tossed it aside like a broken doll.

Sable was even more ruthless. She tore through the ranks with terrifying efficiency, her tail whipping out and sending hellspawn flying. Her massive form coiled and lashed, bodies crumpling under her strikes, her teeth and claws turning the battlefield into a slaughterhouse.

One of Tavira’s spirit beasts leapt at Mephisar’s throat.

Mephisar didn’t even slow. His head snapped to the side, his teeth cutting through the incorporeal creature, and it vanished in a burst of blue light.

Tavira hissed.

She moved to strike again, but Sable’s tail whipped out, striking her with bone-crushing force.

Tavira’s body slammed into the ground and skidded across the battlefield, ghostly beasts scattering around her as she lost control of them. Dust and debris kicked up in her wake, her form motionless for a fraction of a second.

I didn’t hesitate.

I surged past Tavira, trusting Sable to finish her, and raced toward Gavrel. He still moved through my forces like a phantom of ruin, his power twisting through the battlefield like an infection. He turned soldier against soldier, and grinned as he did.

I had to stop him.

I pushed forward, cutting through a hellspawn that lunged into my path, its shriek cut short as my blade slashed across its throat. Black blood splattered the ground, but I didn’t slow. Another spawn lunged for me—I met it with fire, the flames roaring from my free hand, consuming it in an instant.

But it wasn’t enough. Not fast enough.

More of my soldiers were turning on each other. I caught sight of one of my netheron warriors shoving his blade through the gut of another, his face twisted in confusion and rage, as if he hadn’t even meant to do it. A hellspawn at my back had turned on its own kind, snarling as it ripped into the nearest soldier, its claws tearing through flesh without hesitation.

Damn it.

I snapped my head up, searching for Gavrel. I lifted a hand, fire coiling at my fingertips, ready to scorch through the chaos demon’s path. But before I could release it, a wall of shadows erupted between us, curling and thick, like living smoke.

Zera.

I barely had time to react before she emerged from the darkness, her form materializing from the shifting void, a threatening grin playing on her lips.

I struck first, slashing Inferno’s Kiss through the air, aiming for her throat. But she was faster. The shadows coiled around her, swallowing my attack, twisting and reforming as she ducked low, her own blades flashing toward me.

I barely deflected in time.

The impact sent a shudder up my arms, but I gritted my teeth and pushed back. I twisted my blade, knocking hers aside, but before I could retaliate, the shadows at my feet surged up like grasping hands, yanking me off balance.

I stumbled back and saw Gavrel lift his hand, a pulse of raw, chaotic energy rippling outward.

My forces staggered.

A ravager tore into a netheron. A brimlord skewered a vexori. A vampire latched onto the throat of a venerath. My soldiers—my people —were turning on each other.

Rage flared hot in my chest.

I would not— could not—lose this battle! If I did, Lucifer would massacre us all. Levi, Rathiel, my allies, all of us. He wouldn’t allow a single soul off this battlefield.

“Focus!” I roared, my voice carrying over the field. “Don’t let the fallen control you!”

I took a blow to the side of my head. Pain shot through me, and I stumbled back. Before I could so much as glance up, Zera was on me again, her shadows encircling me. I blocked one, dodged the second, but the third found me, curling around my legs, holding me in place. A fourth encircled one of my wrists. A fifth, the other wrist. The shadows had me trapped—and no matter how much power I poured into them, they refused to let go. Zera’s control over the shadows had always been stronger than mine. I flapped my wings, attempting to overpower the shadows, but they held strong and tight.

“Lily!” Rathiel’s voice roared distantly over the battle.

The shadows gripped me tighter, holding me in place. Zera’s grin widened, but before she could press her advantage, a force crashed into her side—a streak of white and gold slamming her off her feet.

Levi.

His blade flashed as he drove her back, forcing her into the swirling abyss of her own shadows.

I had no time to thank him. No time to process anything.

Because through the chaos, I saw the truth. We were losing.

Korrak was still tearing through Lucifer’s forces, but I saw him falter as a wave of Miriel’s sickness spread through the battlefield. Calder fought desperately against Raelia, her magic corrupting him, turning his movements sluggish. Varz had vanished into the fray, but I saw the remnants of his fight—bodies left in his wake, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

And Rathiel?—

My heart clenched.

He still fought against Gremory, neither giving the other an inch, but I could see it—the blood on Rathiel’s side, the way he favoured one leg, the way his strikes had slowed.

I ground my teeth. This wasn’t working.

I raised my hands, fire coiling between my fingers. I’d burn through the shadows that bound me, reduce this battlefield to nothing but ash and ruin, if that was what it took.

But before I could, the ground beneath me trembled.

A chasm split open with a thunderous crack, tearing through the battlefield. The land on the other side crumbled away, swallowed by the abyss, until I stood alone on a fractured island of scorched rock.

Then the air shifted and a shadow descended.

Lucifer landed in front of me, his cold gaze burning through me. “Hello, daughter.”