Chapter Twelve
LILY
By the time Hell’s version of night rolled in—which was really just a darker shade of miserable—my army had come alive like the last ten years had never happened.
They’d gathered around dozens upon dozens of fires, swapping stories loud enough to scare off any hell beasties.
Rathgor had designated the closest geyser as an arm-wrestling station and was currently wrastlin’ a selection of hellspawn into submission, while Korrak had started a fight club I had zero interest in supervising.
It was jarring to compare this night to every other night since we’d returned to Hell.
We’d gone from hiding in caves and staying out of sight to, apparently, broadcasting our presence to the entire realm.
I couldn’t stuff a thousand soldiers into a cavern, but I could make sure nothing caught us off-guard.
Maybe my saviour complex, as Calyx had called it, was running wild, but I needed to ensure we had the strongest safeguards in place.
A dragon had found us once already. Another was only an hour’s flight away.
And who knew what other tricks Lucifer had up his sleeve.
So while everyone celebrated, I’d taken the time to send scouts to every cardinal point and stationed runners alongside them to report back the second anything looked wrong.
If we were going to this exposed, then we would be vigilant about it.
Because like I’d said earlier, I refused to make the same mistake twice.
Once the safeguards were in place, I moved on to the food issue.
We were currently roasting the harvested dragon meat over the largest bonfire in camp, but it wasn’t nearly enough to feed a thousand hungry bellies—plus my inner circle.
Thankfully, the ravagers had taken that as a personal challenge.
They’d stormed into the wilderness, Mephisar in tow, with all the enthusiasm of a blood sport, clearly competing for the biggest kill.
They eventually began trickling back in, hauling game twice their size: bristleback boars, a surprising number of hellcats, and even a tusked stag. Mephisar dragged in the biggest beastie of them all and proudly dropped it next to the roasting dragon, before slithering off to entertain himself.
Soon enough, everyone was chowing down. As for me—Rathiel had all but ordered me to eat and wouldn’t take my refusal for an answer.
He claimed I needed to replenish whatever energy I’d burned off during the resurrection.
He wasn’t wrong. My limbs were heavier than earlier, and the darkness, rather than dissipating, had been steadily growing within me.
Even breathing took conscious effort right now.
I’d tried to pass off my food portion—too tired even to eat—but Korrak stomped over and jammed a skewer of hellcat meat into my hands like I was about to starve. When I eyed it, he threatened to force-feed me if I didn’t cooperate. For the sake of peace, I took a begrudging bite.
The meat was tough, gamey, and tasted vaguely like brimstone and a little like rat. Not that I knew what rat tasted like. But it had a distinct rat-like quality I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was just me and my state of mind, but the flavorless food didn’t appeal to me.
Now, I threaded my way through the chaos, rubbing the stiffness from my neck as I dodged two vampires locked in a heated debate over who could take down a hellcat faster. I assured them the correct answer was me, then pressed forward.
Rathiel stood next to one of the nearby geysers, talking strategy and who knew what else with a handful of brimlords who seemed to be hanging on his every word.
A little ways off, Calyx had claimed a broken boulder as his throne.
He was meticulously cleaning his new blade, his face a mask of calm focus while a few hellspawn hovered nearby, likely trying to decide whether he was trustworthy.
Last they’d seen of him, he’d stood at Lucifer’s side, one of his loyal soldiers.
It’d taken some convincing to assure them he was, theoretically, on our side.
Levi had withdrawn to the camp’s outer ring. He sat cross-legged on a slab of basalt, elbows braced on his knees, the flicker of flame catching on his pale hair. He didn’t seem interested in joining the merriment, and instead kept his eyes fixed on the distant dark.
Finally, I reached my target. With her shining midnight-green hair and lack of horns, Eliza stood out like a sore thumb in this crowd. She sat perched on a rock at the farthest edge of camp, eyes wide and mouth parted in awe.
I dropped down beside her and handed over my half-eaten meat skewer. She accepted it with the enthusiasm of someone being handed a dead mouse.
“Not quite what you imagined?” I asked.
She blew out a long breath, then turned to look at me. “This is…incredible.”
It was. I’d built my own army out of nothing but Hell’s raw materials and my own magic, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the incredible part Eliza was referring to. She’d seen me pull off some fun tricks since coming to Hell, but she’d never been a part of a massive army like this.
“Watching them is wild,” she said, gesturing to the fires. “Mercs don’t celebrate like this. We do the job, take our cut, and move on. That’s it in a nutshell.”
I was aware. I’d served drinks to enough of them over the years to know their post-job celebrations rarely lasted beyond the first strong drink. By the time they drank their second, they’d usually taken on a new job.
A slow yawn threatened to crack my jaw wide, but I stifled it behind my hand before Eliza noticed.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
“Nah,” I said, biting back a second yawn. Why did the damn things always come in pairs? “Usually it’s worse. Especially when they get their hands on some booze.”
“What does booze even look like in Hell?”
“You don’t want to know,” I said, chuckling.
She nodded slowly, still taking it all in.
Boisterous laughter erupted behind us, and we both turned to see Korrak literally leap onto a fellow hellspawn and flatten him just for fun.
Eliza barked a laugh, then shook her head.
“And you trust them? All of them? Your father created these creatures. At the end of the day, they’re condemned souls—born from the worst of humanity.
There’s a reason they found themselves down here in the first place.
So, how do you know they won’t betray you? ”
The smile slipped from my face, her questions killing what little energy I had left. I sighed, the sound thin and frayed. “Look, I trust them all with my life. They’re my unit—”
“That’s Rathiel speaking.”
“Rathiel trained me,” I reminded her. “The Lily you knew topside is different than the Lily who survived for decades down here. If it helps, think of it like the human military. I fought with these hellspawn. Trained with them. Bled with them. I nearly died with them. They’ve earned my trust.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “I guess I’m just not used to this sort of thing.”
“Understandable. But you’ll get there.”
Eliza blew out a breath, her gaze still tracking the chaotic messiness that was my army.
“You know,” I said, “if you want, you could join them. I don’t think they’d mind.”
She laughed, and the sound turned more than a few heads. Even through the brain fog, I noticed the shift—the way nearby hellspawn leaned toward her, as though aching to catch what she had to say. Others stared, their gazes tracking her like moths to flame.
I’d seen this sort of reaction before, back on Earth.
Every time Eliza had walked into the bar where I’d worked, heads had turned.
Paranormals had tripped over their own feet to buy her drinks and ask her out.
If she laughed, they sighed. If she asked them to do something, they damn near broke their backs doing it.
Her siren powers hadn’t known any boundaries on Earth.
Rathiel, Calyx, Levi, and I might have been immune to her charms, but we hadn’t had the chance to test her abilities on hellspawn yet. I had my answer now, though, based on how Sareth was staring at her like she was the last drop of water in a scorching desert.
Oh boy.
I fought back a third yawn and playfully glared at the venerath, who jokingly flipped me off, then returned to her conversation.
I jerked my chin toward a group of soldiers laughing raucously around the fire. “You might like that one. His name is Jorek, and he has quite the sense of humour for a hellspawn. Or there’s Calder—”
“Oh, I know Calder,” Eliza drawled. “He made sure I knew who he was.”
“Yeah, but don’t let him get into your head. It’s nothing personal. He and Sareth have an…unnatural thing going. But I think she’d hand his ass to him if he ever…” I gave a crude gesture.
That made Eliza laugh again, which had Sareth turning once more. This time, she sighed and shook her head. Yeah, we were going to have to rein in those siren powers.
“Don’t overthink it,” I told her. “They’re going to love you because I love you. By tomorrow, you’ll just be another mouthpiece around the fire.”
Her mouth quirked. “Yay me?”
Somewhere to our left, another cheer went up—louder this time, like someone had just won something big.
We both turned on the rock to get a better look, only to find Rathgor pumping one massive fist in the air, bellowing that he was the “undisputed champion.” Next to him, a brimlord sat flattened in the dirt, wearing a filthy scowl while he rubbed his arm.
A few nearby soldiers stomped the ground in time to Rathgor’s chant, and the noise rolled through the camp like a battle drum.
“While you’re here, sitting next to me, chatting all happily, I gotta ask…” Eliza’s voice trailed for a moment. “I know you were worried about the resurrection turning you dark. So, this is me checking in with you while we have a moment. How are you feeling?”
A tired smile pulled at my lips. “Way to ruin a perfectly good vibe.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s ruined. Not unless you’re about to tell me you’re turning into the new Emperor Palpatine.”
I chuckled, though the sound was quite weak. “I’m fine. Really. No ominous whispers in my head, no homicidal urges, no sudden need to build my own evil empire. Yet.”
A little voice chanted in my head, one that didn’t belong to me: Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“You sure? Because a lot has been going on. Those weird shadow-tendril things. Then the new wings. Not to mention the entire arsenal of weaponry you created out of thin air. Or, you know, the dragon you freaking slew pretty much by yourself.”
I snorted. “You make it sound so dramatic.”
“Because it is,” she said, but there was a smile tugging at her mouth. Then, softer: “But you’re okay? You’re sure?”
Other than the bone-freaking-exhaustion and the strange darkness slithering inside me, I was fiiiine. I could handle it. So, I nodded.
Eliza squinted at me like she could see through the lie. For a heartbeat, her expression slipped—the humour gone, replaced by quiet concern.
“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”
I forced a grin. “Cross my heart.”
She held my gaze another moment, then exhaled, relief softening her shoulders. “Good. Because I don’t want to have to fulfill our little murder pact.”
“Aw,” I said, bumping her shoulder. “You like me.”
“Don’t push it.” Her gaze dropped to my side. “So, what are you going to name it?”
I jolted. Name what? The darkness?
“Your new sword,” she said when I didn’t immediately answer. “Every awesome sword needs a name.”
I blinked. Of course she meant the sword. Not…the other thing.
“Right.”
I stared at my side, at the scabbard that once held Shadow’s Embrace, and now held the new sword. The dragon-bone handle gleamed in the firelight, illuminating the black veins of magic that ran through it.
My hand drifted toward it before I could stop myself, and I brushed the hilt.
“Dragonbane,” I murmured.
Eliza nodded, a crooked grin tugging at her lips. “That’s badass.”
A faint laugh escaped me. “It definitely fits.”
“It does,” she said. “Figures you’d forge something born of dragons into something that can kill them.”
Before I could comment, a small group of hellspawn wandered over. One of them, a scarred netheron with scales like burnt obsidian, jabbed a claw at Eliza.
“We heard you’re a siren,” he grunted. “That means you can sing, right?”
She raised her brows. “How—”
“Hellspawn are made of human souls,” I reminded her. “They don’t lose their memories when they take the long trip south. And sirens are legendary creatures—everyone’s heard of them.”
“Right. Well, no. Not happening.”
“Come on,” another chimed in, a venerath with a sharp grin. “We want to see these mythical powers of yours. Sing!”
Eliza shot me a help me look. I smirked, far too tired to intervene.
“You heard them,” I said, gesturing lazily toward the crowd. “You can’t refuse a challenge.”
“Yes, I can,” she hissed.
“Nope,” I said, pushing her gently off the rock. “Consider this your initiation.”
Her glare could’ve slaughtered a tharnox, but she straightened, brushing off her pants as the hellspawn whooped and crowded closer.
“Fine,” she muttered under her breath, flicking her hair back. “But if I do this, and they all start howling at the non-existent moon or something, that’s on you.”
I chuckled and leaned back on my hands. “Can’t wait.”
Eliza rolled her shoulders, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse, then lifted her chin. A couple hellspawn guided her atop a rock, and when she began to sing, it was like the entire realm fell quiet.
Her voice was soft at first—low and smoky—then rose until she sounded like a songbird, a beautiful contrast in a place like Hell.
She sang a tune that was old and wistful, one that spoke of oceans and home.
It didn’t take long before my tired mind stopped tracking the lyrics and instead let her voice wrap around me like a blanket.
I hadn’t felt this calm and safe since Earth.
Little by little, the weight in my shoulders pulled me down, and I sank back against the rock. Each blink came slower than the last, the fires around us flickering longer, softer, until I stopped opening my eyes and everything went black.