Chapter Thirteen #2
That didn’t stop him, though. He raised his sword, then swung it down, aiming for Berith’s head.
Berith stepped aside with a grimace of pain.
He seemed to stumble and fell on his knee, but before Roque could even think of stepping forward to help him, he thrust his sword forward and up, finding a gap in Ramiel’s guard.
It was the same kind of wound Ramiel had inflicted on him, but this one was much deeper, and with Berith’s angle and the force he put in the movement, his blade had to reach Ramiel’s heart.
Ramiel’s eyes went wide. He looked down at the blade in his chest, then back up at Berith’s face.
“How?” he whispered.
“You’re strong, Ramiel. But I’ve been doing this longer, and I had more to lose.” He’d had everything to lose because to him, what mattered the most were the people he loved.
Ramiel swayed on his feet. His sword fell to the floor, the sound echoing in the silent throne room. Dark blood dripped from his lips as his legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees before tilting forward.
The only sound was Berith’s panting, but not for long.
Roque rushed forward now that he could. He crossed the throne room in three quick steps, his full focus on Berith. He knew that Mikal and the others would take care of Ramiel’s people. It wasn’t Roque’s job to worry about them.
Berith was still standing, but he swayed again just as Roque reached him. His face was pale, and he had a hand pressed over the wound in his side, but it wasn’t enough. Blood seeped between his fingers and had started dripping to the floor.
“I’m fine,” Berith said.
Roque wasn’t impressed. “Nice try. Sit down, you asshole.” He looked around the room, satisfied to see Reyni already rushing their way. “Reyni’s coming.”
“He’s going to scold me.”
“As he should.” Roque grabbed Berith’s hand and guided him toward the steps that led up to the throne. “Sit down before you fall on your face.”
“Let me see the wound,” Reyni said when he reached them. He was already digging in his bag for whatever medical supplies he’d need. He didn’t call Berith an asshole like Roque had, but it was clear he was thinking it by the expression on his face.
Thankfully, Berith didn’t resist and allowed Reyni to poke at his wound. His jaw was clenched, but he didn’t ask for painkillers, which was ridiculous but very much like him.
“The cut isn’t too deep,” Reyni said, still sounding annoyed. “He missed the lung, but you’ve got at least two broken ribs, and you’ve lost a lot of blood. You need rest and to spend some time in the infirmary.”
“Later,” Berith said. “First, we need to—”
“Now,” Reyni interrupted firmly. He wasn’t giving Berith the opportunity to waltz off to face the rest of Ramiel’s forces.
He looked like he’d rather tie Berith to the throne rather than allow him to try.
“You’re going to bleed out if you push yourself too hard, and where would that leave us?
Where would it leave your daughter and your consort? ”
Roque was glad that Reyni was intimidating enough that even Berith listened to him. He wanted to stay here and take care of his friend—and it was his job to do just that—but now that he knew that Berith would be okay, he found his thoughts drifting toward Dimri.
Roque hadn’t heard from him in a while, but they’d all felt the explosions, and Dimri had been in the tunnels. Was he okay?
“Roque,” Berith said quietly. “Go.”
“What?”
“Go find Dimri. I can see you’re thinking about him.” Berith winced as Reyni began cleaning his wound. “I am, too. Let me know how he is as soon as you find out.”
Roque hesitated. He should stay with Berith, but Berith was right.
Roque was thinking about Dimri, which meant he was distracted.
Besides, Berith was currently surrounded by enough guards that not even a fly could get to him without someone noticing.
He’d be safe, even without Roque. If anything, Yakim would make sure of it.
As soon as he was done with his phone call to Lucifer anyway.
“Go,” Berith said again. “That’s an order.”
Roque turned and ran.
Everything seemed mostly normal outside the throne room, but that changed the closer he got to the entrance of the tunnels that Dimri and his team had used.
Servants and guards pressed against the walls to let him pass, and people whispered.
Roque suspected that word of Ramiel’s death was already spreading, which was good and hopefully meant that Ramiel’s soldiers would stop fighting if they hadn’t already.
Roque finally reached the right hallway and immediately knew something was wrong. The air was thick with dust, and there were new cracks along the walls and the floor. Several guards stood by the tunnel entrance, looking uncertain and dirty with white dust and blood.
“What happened?” Roque demanded.
“Explosion in the tunnels, sir,” one of the guards reported. “It brought down everything.”
Roque’s stomach dropped. “Survivors?” There had to be some. Dimri couldn’t be gone.
“We don’t know. We can’t enter the tunnels.”
The guard was right. The ceiling had come down, and the debris blocked the tunnels. Even if Roque tried, he wouldn’t be able to get in. “Dimri!” he screamed.
If Dimri was in there, Roque needed to get to him. He couldn’t even consider the possibility that he hadn’t survived. Dimri was alive, and Roque would find him.
* * * *
DIMRI WASN’T SURE HE was fully conscious.
His head spun, and he felt weak, which wasn’t a surprise considering everything he’d been through in the past few hours.
He wanted to crawl into bed and never leave it again, or at the very least, spend at least a week between the sheets, possibly with Roque by his side.
Would Berith allow that? He might need Roque depending on what had happened in the throne room.
Dimri wished he knew. He wanted to get to his feet and find out, but he was too tired.
“Dimri!” someone yelled.
Dimri blinked his eyes open. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them. That was bad, wasn’t it?
A fine dust still lingered in the air. It made his eyes burn, but not so badly that he couldn’t see Roque.
He was standing in front of where the entrance to the tunnels had been.
He was reaching for the stones that had collapsed and closed off the entrance, almost as if he was planning on digging with his bare hands.
His focus was entirely on what was in front of him, and Dimri realized he hadn’t noticed him.
Neither had the guards who stood behind Roque and watched him with apprehension.
Dimri opened his mouth, but the only thing that came out was a croak. He cleared his throat, wondering how long it would be before he could get something to drink. He’d kill for a glass of water right now.
“Roque,” he called out, ending the word on a cough.
That got Roque’s attention. He turned around quickly, his eyes widening when he saw Dimri flopped there against the wall. He was by his side in seconds, kneeling on the dirty floor. Dimri took a moment to look at him. It didn’t look like he’d fought or like he was wounded, which was a good thing.
“Please tell me we won,” Dimri croaked.
“Of course we did,” Roque said as he slid out his phone from his pocket. Dimri had never been so happy to have a piece of human technology to use. He’d never bitch about that again.
Roque’s attention was on Dimri, even during his phone call. Dimri wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep, but he wanted to watch Roque even more.
They’d done it. They defeated Ramiel, which meant that Dimri and Roque now had a chance at being together. At the very least, they’d have a chance at finding out if they could do that.
There was no way to know for sure. Dimri had dreams and plans, but maybe he and Roque wouldn’t work together. Maybe they wouldn’t find a way to fit as a couple. Roque looked like he cared about Dimri, though, and the thought of that made Dimri smile.
“The healer says to take you to the throne room if you can be moved,” Roque said as he lowered his phone. “He’s already done with Berith.”
“What? Please don’t tell me you called Reyni.”
“Who else should I have called?”
“One of the other dozens of healers who work at the palace. I don’t need Berith’s personal healer.”
“Yet that’s who you’re going to get.”
Dimri couldn’t say he’d minded. He liked Reyni, and Reyni was very good at his job. He wouldn’t be Berith’s personal healer if he wasn’t. “As long as I’m not taking him away from Berith,” he murmured.
Roque got back to his feet. “You’re not, but I understand why he doesn’t want to leave Berith on his own.”
“Berith got hurt?” Dimri reached for the wall so he could get to his feet. If his prince was hurt, he needed to be there.
Roque rolled his eyes and leaned down. Dimri didn’t have time to argue before he was hauled into Roque’s arms. Not that he actually wanted to argue.
He was perfectly fine where he was, especially since that meant he wouldn’t have to walk.
He wasn’t sure his legs could carry his weight at the moment.
“Yes, Berith got hurt,” Roque confirmed as he hurried down the hallway. “That’s why Reyni’s with him.”
“But he won?”
“Ramiel is a thing of the past. No one will ever have to worry about him again.”
“And Berith? Will he survive?”
“He was trying to argue with Reyni when I left the throne room. He’s a little banged up, but he’ll be fine.”
Dimri relaxed. He quite liked being carried around by Roque. Maybe he should ask Roque to do it even when he wasn’t on death’s doorstep.
He should make a list of things he wanted Roque to do.
He hadn’t allowed himself to think too much about it before, but they were safe now.
Ramiel was dead. It would take a while for the palace to be back to its former glory, considering the damage Dimri could see as Roque carried him down the hallways, and people would need to heal, but they were resilient.
They were demons. They always survived, no matter what happened.
They’d survive this, too, and now that the danger was over, they’d thrive.
Dimri still felt lightheaded by the time they reached the throne room.
There was less damage here, and someone was dragging Ramiel’s body away as Dimri and Roque entered.
Dimri stared at the body, briefly wondering if anyone would mourn the demon it had belonged to.
He certainly wouldn’t, and knowing Ramiel’s reputation, he didn’t see how anyone would.
As far as he was concerned, Hell was a better place without Ramiel.
Berith had done everyone a favor by killing him.
“I said I’m fine.”
Berith’s voice reached Dimri. Dimri looked away from Ramiel’s body and glanced around the room, trying to find his prince. He was relieved when he saw him sitting on the steps in front of his throne, even though he could see blood on Berith’s chest and side.
Just like Roque had said, Reyni was with Berith, poking at a small wound on the side of Berith’s chest. Berith grimaced every time Reyni touched him, and when he tried pushing Reyni away, Reyni narrowed his eyes at him.
“Really?” he asked. “You think that’s you being fine?”
“I’ll be fine, then. I’m sure there are other people who need more help than I do.”
Reyni leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Should I fetch your consort?”
Berith’s eyes widened. “Leave Mel where he is. I want to be sure the palace is safe.”
“I’ll talk to Mikal,” Roque said as he leaned over and gently deposited Dimri on the steps next to Berith. “He’ll know if we can allow your family out of their rooms.”
Berith looked up at him. “You do that.” He turned his attention to Dimri, grimacing. “You look even worse than I do. What happened to you?”
“Mostly, it was the fighting. Someone let Thessia out of her cell, and she wasn’t happy when I tried to stop her from leaving. The tunnels partially collapsed, too. We need to send people there to open them up and find the rest of the team.”
Berith looked at Roque, who nodded. “I’ll take care of all of that,” he promised. “The two of you just focus on letting Reyni take care of you. I don’t want to hear complaints.”
“The way you talk, it’s almost like I’m your friend instead of your prince,” Berith said.
“That’s because you don’t behave like a prince. Now shush.”
Dimri would have laughed if he wasn’t sure it would’ve hurt. Instead, he reached for Roque before Roque could leave. Roque noticed and moved closer again, crouching next to Dimri and bringing them to the same eye level.
“What is it? Do you need anything?”
Dimri reached out and grabbed Roque’s shirt. He pulled him close and pressed her lips together, smiling into the kiss. He was relieved he’d gotten another opportunity to do that. He hadn’t been sure that he would. “I’ll be here when you’re done working,” he murmured.
Roque snickered. “Only because you won’t have a choice. Reyni won’t let you leave. I’m not even sure you’d be able to leave if you tried.”
Dimri scowled. “I was trying to be romantic.”
Roque’s smile was bright, and he leaned forward to kiss Dimri again. “You were.”
“Not really. If I was romantic, I wouldn’t tell you that I love you in the middle of the throne room while bleeding out on Berith’s nice carpet.”
Roque leaned back. “Is this you telling me that you love me?”
Dimri shrugged, regretting it instantly when pain flared in his shoulder. “I guess I don’t want to waste time.”
Roque shook his head. He looked fondly exasperated. “Well, I love you, too. Now stay here and let Reyni take care of you. I’ll know if you don’t.”
“And what will you do then?”
“Whatever you’re thinking of, get your mind out of the gutter. You need to heal before we get anywhere near that part of our relationship.”
Dimri pouted. He felt a bit like he was floating out of his body, which he didn’t think was a good thing. “But I want that.”
“Then stay still and heal. You’ll get it so much faster if you do.”
“Is that a promise?”
Roque cupped the back of Dimri’s head and pressed their foreheads together. “It is.”
That was good enough for Dimri.