Epilogue
MORTE
FIVE DAYS, AND A WHOLE LOT OF LOVING ACROSS EACH OF OUR PROPERTIES LATER …
Hellwing Castle
The sunlight spills through the narrow windows of the castle, painting long streaks across the stone floors as I stretch beneath the heavy blankets. The warmth of bodies surrounds me, each one familiar, solid, comforting. Today, we go to the dungeon. Today, Az faces the monsters that tormented him for millennia.
With a groan, Caius shifts, his arms flailing before he blinks awake, looking around with bleary eyes. "Why's everyone so damn tense?" he mumbles, rubbing his face against the pillow.
"You know why." My voice comes out softer than intended, barely more than a breath.
His expression sobers, the mischief replaced by something far more sincere. He reaches out, touching Az's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Wake up, Shadow Daddy. It's time."
Azazel stirs, his lashes fluttering before he opens his eyes, a tired smile pulling at his lips as he looks at Caius. "I thought I told you never to call me that," he murmurs.
"Not today," Caius replies, his grin resurfacing, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He sits up, stretching his arms above his head, the tension in the room thick as the others begin to stir.
Aggonid rolls out of bed with the grace of a predator, his eyes locked on Azazel. "Are you ready?"
Az pushes himself upright, his stare turning serious, steely, the blue of his eyes darkening even more as he nods. He glances down at me, and I offer him a small smile, my fingers brushing against his arm. His hand moves to cover mine, and he gives it a squeeze.
"I've been ready for this my whole life.” Gravel edges his voice, and if it were any other day, I’d spend the rest of it allowing him to whisper sweet nothings to me.
We rise together, the room shifting as bodies untangle, standing side by side in black and gold armor. The colors catch the pale light—an unmistakable emblem of Aggonid's reign, once reserved for his family alone. Wearing it now feels like a statement, a reclamation. A reminder that we stand united, not just as warriors, but as something far greater.
The walk to the dungeon is quiet, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts, the echoes of our steps swallowed by the thick stone walls. I reach for Az's hand, and he takes it without hesitation, our fingers intertwining. Aggonid leads, his posture straight, his head high, his shadows stalking the corridor, servants skittering out of the way. Emeric falls in beside me, a lopsided smile playing on his lips, though worry lingers behind his eyes. Wilder moves behind us, his attention fixed on Az, ever the watchful protector.
Relief sings in my veins. This is a reckoning, a reclaiming of everything they stole from us. My chest eases, knowing they will get exactly what they deserve, every day, for the rest of eternity. Each step, a heat rises within me—not wrath, but satisfaction. A quiet kind of calm born of lifetimes of scars long healed and debts finally coming due.
We’ve already released all of his servants, thanks to the help of the High Queen and King of the Fae, and have them all on a path towards healing from the unimaginable horrors of Romarie.
The dungeon door emerges ahead, sanguimetal bars across its front. Aggonid pushes it open without a word, the creak of metal sounding through the dark. The scent of damp stone and old magic fills the air, the temperature dropping with every step deeper into the underbelly of the castle.
Torches burn along the walls, their dancing flames painting uneven light across the stone floor. Azazel’s grip tightens, his breathing steady, but his pulse quick beneath my fingers. The cells stretch before us, dark recesses of stone and iron that hold the worst of the worst, those who defied the laws of hell.
You fuck with one, you fuck with us all.
And in the farthest cell, Roth and King Ollin fucking Valtorious await. They look up as we approach, their eyes narrowing, malice gleaming even in this place, even when they’ve lost. Valtorious stands, chains rattling, his cold scrutiny meeting Azazel's with a sneer curling his lips.
Az moves forward, his shoulders square, his head held high, and I stay close, letting go only when he gives me a soft nod, his fingers slipping away from mine. He steps to the bars, looking at the man who shaped his nightmares, who twisted every ounce of love he had to give.
Valtorious grins, but Az doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back away. Instead, he leans closer, his blue eyes like piercing flames, his magic burning inside him, ready to burst free. I can feel it through our bond, as though it’s a pot ready to boil over.
“You thought you could break me,” Az speaks, each word measured, venom lacing his tone. “You thought that by making me destroy every good thing in my life, I’d forget how to love. That I’d forget how to hope.” He pauses, his chest rising. “But you failed. And today, you’ll learn just how much.”
Roth lets out a laugh, though it rings hollow, a desperate attempt to maintain control, and Caius tilts his head, his expression curious, almost amused. “You think this is funny?” he asks, stepping forward, his eyes flashing with something dangerous, the runes on his skin rippling with agitation.
Em rests a hand on Caius’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. “Let Az handle it, Caius.”
Valtorious scoffs, his chains clinking as he takes a step toward the bars. “You really believe you’ve won, boy? You’re just a tool. You always were.”
Az exhales slowly, the air between them growing taut, his eyes narrowing. He lifts his hand, and shadows dance along his fingers, swirling in dark tendrils that creep toward the bars. “No, Father. I’m no longer your tool,” he whispers, and the shadows burst forward, wrapping around the chains, tightening until the metal groans. “I’m your reckoning.”
The End