Chapter 30
NICK
“A survivor!”
The shouts throughout the palace are unmistakable. People have been bustling and milling about, huddling in groups to trade information about the said ‘survivor,’ who has yet to make their presence known.
The only fucking thing I care about is whether it’s Rhi.
Answer me, baby. Please. She’s been radio silent for close to an hour, and I’m about to make a mockery of my notorious reputation by dropping to my knees and praying to whatever god will listen that it’s her the people speak of. That she is safe. That she is finally home.
You would know if she died. That voice chimes in, reminding me we are tethered in ways beyond what Fate has forged. Indeed, I would know if she died, and both realms above would know my wrath if that were the case.
Still, her silence is troubling, and even though my heart beats with the certainty she lives, I couldn’t bear to know she was in any sort of pain either.
A knock at my door disrupts my distress. “Enter.”
Baal steps inside but lingers in the threshold, his face solemn.
“Is she—”
“It’s not her, Raph.” His eyes are heavy with regret, as though it pains him to deliver this news. “It isn’t Rhi.”
I nod, even though my heart splinters, the shards lodging themselves in my ribcage. “Isadora?”
“Yes.”
A small wisp of relief floats through me. I hadn’t wanted anything to happen to Isadora either, but—and maybe I’m a prick for saying this—I would rather it had been Rhi’s name that left Baal’s lips.
“She is asking for you,” he says, making my heart stutter. That can’t be good.
“Where is she?”
“Being brought straight here, to your chambers.”
“Is she well enough to come?”
Baal nods.
“Send for a Healer, just in case.”
“Of course,” he replies and turns to leave. Then, he pauses and says, “I’m sorry, Raph.”
Baal is out the door before I can reply, and I’m thankful, because my throat is tight and my chest ready to burst.
I’m sorry. Though I know he meant well, I hate the pity in those words, the insinuation of their delivery. As though she isn’t coming back. As though she is—
I can’t even finish the thought.
Where are you, little liar? I can’t recall how many messages I’ve sent, only how weighted the silence is that greets me in response.
My door opens once more, and a grief stricken Isadora steps through, accompanied by Baal. Not long behind them, another Demon enters, this one with solid, bright green eyes, evidencing his Healer status.
As Isadora steps closer, I take inventory of the numerous scrapes and bruises on her face and forearms. From this angle, I can also make out a horrible sunburn along the tops of her shoulders that likely blankets her upper back. Other than those wounds, Isa seems to be fine.
“She’s alive,” Isa says, and those two words send me right to my knees. I wasn’t aware I’d been holding my breath, but the relieved exhale escapes my lungs as my heart finally slows its frenetic pace.
“Raph—” Baal moves towards me, but I hold up a hand, halting his steps.
Gathering my wits, I finally rise, meeting Isadora’s glassy stare.
Her throat works on a swallow as she prepares to likely crush my soul before my bedroom door again swings open and my uncle barrels through like a frenzied Hell Beast, eyes frantic and mouth pressed in a tight line.
“Where is she?” His voice explodes like thunder in the solemn room.
Belial freezes upon seeing Isa, his entire countenance softening. Yet, his chest tightens, and I have a feeling he is withholding his own relieved exhale to not give himself away.
Isa’s own tired eyes widen at my uncle’s outburst before she furrows her brow in confusion.
Yeah, he’s got it bad for you, girl. Surely, she has to see that, but if it’s as Rhi said, and Isa doesn’t return his affections or want them, I won’t push the issue.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, moving toward her tentatively. She shoots me a furtive glance before meeting his gaze and shaking her head.
“No.”
A subtle movement draws my attention to his right hand, raised slightly, as if to reach toward her. His fingers twitch, as though fighting the urge before he lets it hang limply by his side.
“Good.”
“Would you like the Healer to check you for other injuries before we begin?” I suggest, mentally wincing at the blistering skin on her shoulders.
“I can wait,” she replies, but Belial buts in.
“If you are hurt in any way, you should be healed first, even if it’s a fucking papercut.” His words end on a low, menacing growl, and I see Baal in the corner, arms crossed, watching the whole exchange with intrigue.
Isa rolls her shoulders back. “I do have an uncomfortable sunburn…” Her eyes find mine as the sentence trails, her gaze asking permission. My uncle shoots me a scathing glare.
“Have him heal you immediately,” I tell her, fighting Belial with my own glower.
The Healer positions himself behind Isadora, and Belial follows, standing so close to the demon, he’s practically breathing down his back. The Healer’s hands then settle upon Isa’s shoulders, and Belial’s eyes zero in on their placement.
For fuck’s sake, Uncle, why don’t you just piss on her already?
Isa lets out a low, pleasurable moan, eyes fluttering closed as the blisters slowly disappear from her shoulders and neck.
Belial’s jaw clenches, and the expression on his face tells me everything.
My uncle is without a doubt imagining that sound for an entirely different reason and storing it away for later.
I know because it is exactly what I do with Rhi.
“May I see what other injuries you have?” the Healer asks.
“Ok,” she replies, still with her eyes shut.
“I’ll need you to remove your cloth—”
The Healer doesn’t get the opportunity to finish his sentence before he’s thrown sideways by a phantom wind, falling haphazardly into the small table and chairs on the right side of the room.
Isa gasps, whipping her face toward the debacle before turning to face Belial with a stony expression. My uncle has swiftly backed far enough away, his face a portrait of perfect boredom, as though he played no part in what just happened.
Suppressing a smile, I say, “I think it’s best you leave. Should Isadora need further assistance, we will send for you.”
The Healer grumbles something as he stands before bowing quickly and making a hasty exit.
I right the flipped over chairs and gesture for Isadora to sit. Once she has made herself comfortable, I stand before her, Baal settled on my left while Belial positions himself to her right.
“Tell me everything.”
Twilight blankets the sky as the night bleeds into day and Isa recounts her experience in the Labyrinth.
She starts at the beginning, waking up in a similar fashion to Rhi and being attacked almost immediately by a man. I know of the seven contestants, four were men, and I have to wonder if the male contestants woke up to being similarly attacked.
Something tells me that’s not the case, but I’ll look into that later.
Four of the men are dead, which leaves Rhi and one another female. I blow out another relieved breath. I don’t know who the other woman is, but I am confident Rhi can handle her if they come face to face.
Isa continues her recount of the trials, getting to the part where she unites with Rhi after killing a man who attempted to grab Rhi from behind.
She further explains their encounter with the Demon Xezbeth and how she lost her only fighting weapons, again saving Rhi.
Gratitude flares in my chest, and I make a mental note to somehow repay Isa for what she has done for Rhi and myself.
Isa takes a breath and licks her lips before she begins describing the Porta Unius.
The Gate of One. I already anticipate what she is going to tell me, that somehow, Rhi forced her to step through the Gate, sacrificing her happiness and one chance to return to me.
A small ember of anger and a vine of betrayal unfurl within my chest until Isa says something that makes my blood run cold.
“There was a child,” she says. “A little girl, no older than perhaps three or four. She had dark brown hair, similar to Rhi’s, but beautiful, blazing golden eyes.” Isa draws in a breath as she looks at me, her own face paling as she surely stumbles upon her own realization. “Like yours.”
Immediately, my mind pulls forth the memory of Nyx’s cave, of the vision she’d shown me.
My son and daughter. My children. Our children.
Mine and Rhi’s. The child Isa described fits the image of my daughter perfectly.
The boy had been a bit older, perhaps five or six, but the girl was undoubtedly a toddler.
Dark hair and golden eyes. Her mother’s beautiful features, but the eyes of the Devil.
“Rhi held a sword to my throat.” Isa’s bottom lip trembles. “I would have let her slice my neck open, Nick, I swear—” She chokes, swallowing down a sob and squeezing her eyes shut. When they reopen, tears fall freely down her cheeks. “I told her you would never forgive me.”
I crouch down so we are eye level. “That isn’t true.” My own voice is soft but hollow. “There is nothing to forgive.”
More tears spill from her eyes. “She said you would never forgive her.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. Can a heart shatter more than once? It must be so. Otherwise, I wouldn’t feel so broken, my soul scattered in pieces. I grip the edge of the arm chair where Isa sits.
“I told her to return to me whatever the cost, but Rhi did exactly what I knew she would. She put someone else before herself. It’s one of the many reasons why I love her.”
Isa nods, tears pouring down her face. Her shoulders tremble, and Belial places a hand on her shoulder to steady her.
“Isa,” I say as gently as possible. “Did she say anything else?”
Isa blinks up at me, lips again shuddering, and my stomach clenches in anticipation of a devastating delivery.
“Isa, please.”
Taking another breath, she runs the back of her hand across her eyes then meets mine. “She said…” Another shaky breath. “...she said, ‘You’re going to make a great Queen.’ And then, ‘tell Nick I love him.’”
My earlier question is answered as, for the third time, my heart breaks.
Whatever pieces left scatter, sprinkled like the particles of sand passing through the hourglass on my soulmate’s wrist. The woman who fought for me, died for me, now fights for her life because she never gave up on me.
On us. Gods, I wish she knew. I wish she could have seen what I saw in Nyx’s cave.
Would she fight even harder then, if she knew she was not only fighting for a future with me, but for two children who will only exist if she lives?
Another crack as another piece of my heart fractures. When Rhi reached the Gate, did she recognize that little girl? Did she see herself in those stunning features? Did she recognize my eyes? Did she know it was our daughter who stared back at her?
I turn away from Isa, from Baal and my uncle, as tears glide down my face.
Rhi all but gave Isa a message goodbye, but I refuse to believe that.
I refuse to believe that after what I did to tether us even closer before she was sent into the Labyrinth, that this is it.
I am the fucking Devil, and it’s about time I raise Hell for the woman I love.
I love you, Rhi, and I need you here with me, I send to her. As expected, I’m met with silence.
One way or another, I’m bringing Rhi back to me alive, even if I have to wrench apart another Afterlife to do so.
.