Prologue
Odette
1850 Hearthwick, Valoria
I stand at the wash basin in the quiet of my small cottage, the cool water running over my hands as I scrub the dinner dishes. Outside the window, the night has swallowed up the countryside, leaving nothing but darkness. The fire crackles behind me, its warmth a reminder that winter is creeping ever closer. I'll need to cut firewood soon, and I can already feel the weariness in my bones just thinking about it.
Lilith and Basil have been tucked away in their beds for a while now, their small breaths soft and even in sleep. It's the one time of day I can breathe without worry, without the weight of the world pressing down on me.
I finish the last cup, setting it on the counter to dry. I wipe my hands dry as I look out the window again. The darkness outside shifts, a distant glow appearing on the horizon, faint and orange in the night. I narrow my eyes. It’s odd.
No one should be traveling up the road at this hour. I’m an herbalist, making salves and tonics to heal whatever ails you. But I’m no doctor, so I shouldn’t have any emergency visitors. The last of my customers left well before the sun dipped, and I’m not expecting anyone else until mid-morning tomorrow.
My stomach twists, unease forming like a stone in my gut. I don’t know why, but something about this feels… wrong.
I stare at the light for a long moment, trying to make sense of it, but it only draws nearer, bobbing as it moves. The light flickers like a torch, illuminating the figures moving through the shadows.
My heart beats faster when they don’t continue down the road, but turn right onto the small lane that leads to my home.
They’re coming here. What in heaven’s name?
Grabbing my shawl, I wrap it around myself, my fingers trembling as I open the door. The cool air hits me like a slap, but I don't flinch. My breath catches in my throat as I see a group of figures moving together, their faces twisted with anger. They stop merely twenty feet from my door. I straighten, instinctively stepping in front of the doorway.
"What is the meaning of this?" I call, my voice shaky. "My children are asleep!" I scold, wanting my babies to have a full night's rest. It’s important for their little six- and seven-year-old minds to get enough hours in a night.
The figure at the front of the group steps forward, and I recognize him instantly—the sharp lines of Pastor Pembroke's face. His lips twist in a sneer. He’s a vile, dangerous man. Thinking he can take what he wants, or shall I say who he wants, because he is the pastor. His wife is just as bad, turning a blind eye to his abuse of power and harm to women.
"We know what you are, Odette!" he spits, his voice harsh and venomous.
A chill runs through me. "What I am?" The words come out calm, but inside I’m quaking. "Pastor Pembroke, while I’ve been accused of a lot of things, I’m only a mother, a widow, and an herbalist. Nothing more, nothing less."
"You’re a demon wench!" someone shouts from behind him, their voice full of hate.
A demon? My mind races, trying to understand where this is coming from, but my thoughts feel like they’re stuck in a fog.
“A demon?" I laugh, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. "Why, there’s no such thing. You must have been told one too many bedtime stories. For I certainly would know if I were a demon. Now, go on home. I’ll tell you again, my children are sleeping.”
“I told them your secret, Odette,” Pembroke smirks.
My brows raise on their own accord because I have no idea what secret he thinks he knows.
“Don’t be coy. You told me in confidence that you’re otherworldly. There’s a hunger inside you that can only be quenched by death. A death that you bring. All those poor young men, Odette. They were barely out of boyhood and you took them from this world.”
He can’t be serious. The town has had three young men pass, but the sheriff said it was a bear or wolves. They all went into the woods and didn’t come back. I am surely not to blame.
“You lie, Pembroke. I have done no such thing!” I defend myself.
The words should have been enough, but the mob only grows louder. “You won’t stay in this town, Odette!"
“She’s feeding on our children!”
“Our young men.”
A wave of nausea rolls through me, panic clawing its way to the surface, but I try to hold it in. I can’t let them see how terrified I am, not if I want any chance of protecting Basil and Lilith. I know I’ve been an outsider since my dear Thaddeus passed away, but this…this is something else entirely.
“Let me wake Basil and Lilith,” I plead, my voice faltering slightly. “We’ll grab a few things and leave. No need for anything else.” Every word is a desperate attempt to placate them, to give them a reason to end these insane claims.
“And let you murder freely elsewhere?” Pastor Pembroke sneers. "Have other men and children suffer because we let you leave? That can not happen, Odette.”
The cold terror in my chest tightens, but I don't let it show. "Please! My children!" I cry, my voice breaking as I turn toward the cottage, willing myself to stay calm. "You must have mercy for at least my children."
“Demon spawn!” someone yells.
“Kill them!” another man roars.
“No!” I scream as two men lurch forward, their hands grabbing hold of my arms, pulling me violently from the doorway. I fight them, kicking and struggling, but they’re too strong. Their laughter fills my ears, cruel and mocking as Pastor Pembroke watches, the flickering light of the torch dancing in his eyes.
“Basil! Lilith!” I scream, my voice raw and desperate, but all I hear in return is the roar of the flames as they start licking at my home. I see my house—the one my dear Thaddeus and I made a home, the only place where I had thought we were safe—catch fire like dry straw, the flames consuming it with ruthless speed.
Pain explodes in my chest, sharp and overwhelming as if the very air I breathe has turned to fire. The world tilts violently, and my screams rip through the night, raw and unrelenting. Flames roar, crackling and spitting as they devour everything— everyone —I love. My children—my babies—scream for me, their tiny voices piercing the chaos. "Mama! Mama, help us!" Their cries tear through me like shards of glass, growing fainter, slipping further away into the inferno.
I thrash against the men who hold me, my body weak from the struggle. "No! No, please!" I beg, my voice hoarse, my throat burning. "Please, don’t do this! Take me instead! Take me—" My sobs choke me, words spilling out in frantic pleas. I turn to the men, their faces shadowed by the flames. "You can’t! They’re just children! Please!" My knees buckle as I sink to the ground, my soul shattering with every second that passes.
I lift my face to the heavens, tears streaking my face. "God, if you're there, please! Save them! I’ll do anything! Take my life, my soul, just don’t let them—" My voice cracks, and I scream, a sound that is more animal than human.
The flames surge higher, a monster feeding on innocence. The laughter of the bastards around me echoes in my ears, a cruel reminder that no one is coming. No one is going to save them.
Basil and Lilith’s cries fade, swallowed by the inferno, leaving behind a silence so heavy it crushes me. The world is torn apart, piece by piece, and I am powerless. My babies, my innocent, precious babies—gone. All for what?
I collapse to the dirt, clawing at the earth, sobbing until there’s nothing left but the hollow ache of a mother who has lost everything.
Pain.
Anger.
Rage.
The mob roars with glee, their faces twisted with hatred as I’m shoved to the ground, my body bruised and torn.
“Demon of seduction and death,” Pembroke hisses as he spits in my face.
“Let’s show her what we think of her dark magic and wiles, then we will make sure she draws her last breath,” someone shouts.
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done. Mark my words, men of Valoria. I will not rest until you know the pain you have caused tonight!” I scream as Pembroke tears the top of my dress, exposing my breasts.
My skirt is lifted around my waist, my knickers torn away, and I lie there, unable to move, unable to escape.
I won’t cry. Not for them.
They’ve already taken everything—my heart, my soul, my children. What more can they take from me?
But they don’t stop. One by one, they claim their part of me, using me as if I were nothing but an object and I grit my teeth, clenching my jaw so tight it hurts. I refuse to let them see me break, refuse to give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream. They’ve already destroyed everything that made me whole. They don’t deserve my pain.
When they finish, Pembroke approaches me, his eyes filled with venom. He cups my cheek, his grip cold as a blade. "You should have accepted my courtship when it was offered, whore," he hisses, his voice thick with malice.
And then, in one swift motion, the cold steel of a blade slices across my neck, and everything goes black.
The last things I see are Basil’s and Lilith’s faces, their warm smiles and laughter as I slip away.
This is not the end of me. Not even close.
1850 Somewhere else…perhaps Hell.
“Wake, my child. We need to have a little chat.”
A cold shiver runs through me. I push myself up, trying to focus, but my vision blurs before settling on... her. A woman unlike any I have ever seen.
Skin as pale as moonlight, her eyes glow an eerie, spectral green, seemingly alive with ancient power. Towering horns spiral upward from her head, thick and textured like ancient stone.
"Don’t be scared," she purrs. "I won’t hurt you."
Her voice is velvet, dark and smooth, and it slithers into my mind, filling every shadowed corner. My throat tightens, but I can’t stop myself from inching backwards, pressing my palms into the ground as I push away.
This can’t be.
My thoughts whirl. I was good. I followed every rule. I was a faithful wife, and a loving mother. Surely that counts for something in the eyes of… whatever is watching us from above? Surely I wasn’t meant for hell.
"You were so angry at the end. So full of pain and misery," she says, as if reading my thoughts. "I made a bargain with my brother to have you.”
I shake my head, willing myself to wake from this nightmare. "This can’t be real. I’m dreaming."
"It’s very real, Odette Hawthorne of Valoria," she recites, and I feel a jolt as she speaks my name. "Mother to Lilith Ann and Basil Theodore. Wife to the late Thaddeus Hawthorne."
The weight of her words crashes over me, leaving me breathless. She knows my children’s names, knows my husband’s name. My lips part, my voice barely a whisper. "Who… who are you?"
She smiles, slow and dark. "Why, I am the Lady of the Dark, the Hellion Queen. Or if you prefer it simply, the devil."
I stumble over her words, grappling for understanding. "But I thought…" My voice trails off.
She smirks, the gleam of her sharp teeth catching the faint light. "You thought the devil was a man." She twirls a strand of silver hair around a long, claw-like nail. "I have heard it all before. The same tiresome refrain, over and over. Forgive me, my dear, but no man could possibly manage this place. They attempted it once, true enough... but as we all know, behind every so-called strong man stands a truly formidable woman."
A small smile tugs at my lips. I almost laugh—how absurd, laughing in front of the devil. But her wit is surprisingly disarming, if only for a moment. Until it hits me all over again. Lilith… Basil…
I swallow hard, the ache of their absence making my heart shatter all over again. I feel the edges of my resolve begin to fray. If I'm here… it means I'll never see them again.
"What about my children?" My voice trembles as I ask.
She tilts her head, almost pityingly. "They’re with my brother. With their father. Safe. Happy. Loved. And you can go and be with them… if you choose not to accept my offer. I promise."
I cling to her words, desperately weighing them. I want to go and be with them… to hold them, to hear their laughter. But the memory of the men who tore my life apart crashes over me, the betrayal and cruelty that stole my family from me leaving me cold and hollow. They did this, I seethe. The injustice of it fills me.
“A deal with the devil?” I ask.
Her pale lips pull into a sly smile. "I’m not that bad. I swear." She drags her tongue across her teeth. "You want revenge. I can feel it simmering even now beneath your skin. Let me give you the tools to rain hell upon those who have wronged you. Those who hurt you like none before."
"What do you want in return?" I know better than to think a deal with the devil comes freely.
She leans closer, her voice soft, but edged with power. "You’ll be mine. My loyal second. Well, I guess my lovers would be my seconds, so perhaps my loyal friend. When I call, you come. When I have a job, you do it."
Her words sink in. The thought of living an eternity apart from my family twists something deep within me. The shame and guilt of failing Lilith and Basil, of not being strong enough to protect them… It’s like a weight crushing my chest. I couldn’t protect them in life. I can’t face them in death, not like this.
A dark, desperate resolve hardens within me. I want vengeance. I want those who did this to feel the pain they caused me, to suffer as I have suffered.
“I will not hurt children,” I say firmly, my gaze meeting hers.
"Deal." She extends her hand, adorned with rings and bracelets. I stare at her hand, hesitation flaring as I think of what this means—of the path I am about to step onto. But the memory of Lilith's laugh and Basil's small, warm hand slipping into mine crashes into me. I clasp her hand in mine, and a sharp, piercing pain shoots through my palm.
She smirks. "No need to panic. Just sealing the deal."
The pain fades, replaced by a rush, a searing heat that spreads through my veins. My skin tingles, my senses sharpening, as if awakening for the first time. The room spins, and I drop to my hands and knees, gasping as a strange power ripples beneath my flesh.
“What… what is happening?” I choke out.
“A few upgrades to help you get the payback you so desperately seek,” she murmurs.
It’s over as quickly as it began, and I lift my head, catching my breath. She holds out a mirror, her dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Look in the mirror, child. You’re perfect. They’ll never even see you coming."
I take the mirror and peer at my reflection. The eyes staring back at me glow softly with a soft red hue. Two long, razor-sharp fangs protrude from my mouth, wickedly beautiful. My skin, once warm and sun-kissed, is now porcelain, smooth like marble. Beneath that fragile surface, I can feel the raw strength and power.
A dark, feral smile spreads across my face. "Thank you," I say, my voice filled with a new, dangerous confidence. "I’m going to rip every last one of them limb from limb."
She smiles approvingly. "As you should, Odette."
"I can never repay you, Lady of the Dark."
Her smile softens. "My friends call me Tempest. That is what we shall be, Odette. You are now my closest friend. My sword. Now go, child. Make them pay."
She snaps her fingers and suddenly I’m tumbling, falling. I land hard on the cobblestone street outside of Hearthwick. It’s dark, but it looks the same. I don’t know how long I’ve been gone. It could be hours, it could be years.
I pull myself up, brushing off my skirt, and my gaze lands on the dusty window of a nearby shop. A faded newspaper headline stares back at me: November 2nd, 1855. Five years. I’ve been gone for five years.
Five years without a single thought of me in the minds of those vile men. Pastor Pembroke and his loyal hounds—no doubt they forgot me, dismissed me as easily as they did my children.
But I haven’t forgotten. And now, I smile to myself, they won’t forget me either.