Soul of Shadows
Destiny- Four Months Later...

Four Months Later…

Destiny

There was a loud scream of agony down the hall, my heels clicking on the ground as I sped up my pace, Cain shouting at me to haul my ass in here or face the consequences. Rolling my eyes at the territorial threat, balancing the towels I carried and the bottle of Junenara that was sure to pack a punch, kicking the door open with a wave of my power, I entered the room, the items I carried already whisked out of my grasp, leaving me standing in the doorway.

The smell of blood hung in the air, the room saturated in the smell, but there was no allure to it, not when I knew the source.

Everyone barring Jason, his two assistants, Cain and I had been banned from the room, although I kept my Connected quietly updated on the situation through our connection, making him swear he would not tell anyone else. Currently, he was in the kitchen, wolfing down a breakfast of eggs and Fell meat. Had the male inside the room, the one who had been shouting at me, not needed me here with him so desperately, I might have joined my Connected, but as it was, Cain needed me more than ever.

Pacing across the room in front of the tiny window, the black curtains drawn over it to block out the light of dawn, an agitated look on his face, my cousin looked worse for wear, his body humming with Blood-Lust. Locking eyes with me, he growled, “What took you so long?”

“Your mile-long list,” I teased, sauntering over to him and laying a hand on his arm, guilt flooding his eyes. He opened his mouth to apologise- And then there was another scream of agony, the woman in the bed begging, “CAIN!”

The Blood-Lust returned full-force, Cain rushing to his wife’s side, Adelia gripping his hand tightly, her fingernails biting into his wrist, leaving circlets of black and red blood, her other hand fisted in the sheets, Jason at the foot of the bed, his assistants arranging the towels where they needed to be. Leaning back against the wall, surveying the scene, I winced. It was a bloodbath in here. I had forgotten how messy Demonic-being births were.

Adelia’s pale white nightgown had been hiked up around her waist, Jason’s face one of professionalism, his voice calm and reassuring, like he had done this thousands of times.

Given New Dela’s booming population as of late, he probably had.

Four hours ago, Cain had kicked my bedroom door off its hinges, a wild, feral look in his eyes, his voice breathless and panicked when he had shouted at me to get the Hell up right this damned instant and follow me. He had taken a wave of my power to his chest, knocking him onto his ass, Seth bellowing awake beside me, falling from the bed in a panic.

That alone had told me something was wrong, since Cain knew better than to wake me up, let alone by kicking my door down, but it hadn’t been until I had summoned weapons and fighting leathers to me, believing the city was being laid siege to while I comfortably slept, and Cain had told me not to bother with either that it had sunk in that something was different. As it turned out, Adelia Maladur-Kentin, my cousin’s beautiful, pregnant wife, had gone into labour, smacking Cain awake in the middle of a contraction; the source of his Blood-Lust.

It didn’t surprise me, she was smackbang in the middle of her due date.

Once I had gotten over the original adrenaline rush of being woken up like Cain’s balls had withered away and fallen from his body, I had been thrown into my midwife duties, both Cain and Jason ordering me to get things for them.

For four hours, I had been their errand girl, fetching towels, medical instruments, enough Junenara to have stopped a cartel leader’s heart on Earth, and, to my surprise, a moderately sized bottle of alcohol. Who had requested it, I had not yet been told, and since it still sat, untouched, on a small table in the corner of the room, I could only imagine they didn’t want it anymore. My power floated it over to me, popping the cork and swigging from it, the burn of the alcohol sweeping away the fact that my hands were shaking hard with adrenaline, fear for my cousin-in-law hitting me almost as hard as it struck Cain. That scream had been laced with agony.

There was another scream, Adelia cursing everyone and everything under the sun, earning a snicker from me, Cain snarling at me, and Jason reassured, “Everything is going well, Adelia. Just a few more pushes.”

“Oh, fantastic.” The usually reserved, quiet High Queen of The Borderlands had been reduced to a red-faced, cursing, almost vengeful Queen. In the last hour alone, I had been told I was a fool, too-slow, I needed to focus better. When I had attempted to comfort the Queen myself, I had promptly been told to shut up. I knew it was just the pain talking, since Adelia and I had gotten on fantastically the last four months. We had gone out for regular lunches at the café Sellan had shown me on my return to the city, and she had filled me in on everything I needed to expect with my own pregnancy. Cain had savoured our friendship, even going so far as to buy us matching bracelets, a sign of our Queenly alliance just as much our friendship. We had been wearing them, although Adelia’s was not on today. She wore none of her jewellery, not even the wedding band from Cain.

Hell, watching her give birth, and lose all composure doing it, only made me fear for how my own would go.

Adelia seemed to push, everything going well, Cain sucking down long, deep breaths as he tried to calm himself, Jason urging her on.

She went pale, gasping in pain, before her head slumped to the side, her eyes snapping closed. Jason didn’t swear, instead seeming to anticipate it, one of his assistant’s dabbing at Adelia’s forehead with a damp cloth, wringing it out over her, smoothing it through her sweaty hair. I could hear her heartbeat, so she wasn’t dead, just passed out. The knowledge didn’t help Cain, who immediately descended into an instinctual mess, gripping the edge of his seat to stop himself from leaping at Jason and the two assistants, reminding himself aloud that they were helping, not hurting.

Striding over, knowing this was why he had needed me here, I placed my hand on his shoulder again. His hand flew up, gripping my fingers, still panting wildly. Thankfully, I was a full-blooded Demonic-being, otherwise his grip would have broken bone. Sure, I would have done it anyway, but avoiding shattered fingers was my favourite pastime, outside of plotting to kill one of my husbands.

“Des,” he gasped in fear, my thumb stroking the back of his hand, and I murmured, “She’s okay, Cain. She’s still alive.”

The Queen snapped back into consciousness just in time for another contraction to wrack her body, Jason nodding, settling back in at the foot of the bed, everything back in motion once more.

“Too long- It’s taking too long,” he gasped, leaning back against me. Stroking his hair with my other hand, I shook my head.

“It is not. She’s doing great, Cain. Deep breaths, cousin.” His eyes flooded with gratitude at my words, Jason corroborating them with a nod, telling Adelia once more, “Another push for me, Adelia.” She did as the Shaman advised, Cain’s blood beginning to drip onto the floor from where Adelia’s fingernails sliced into his skin, not that my cousin appeared to even notice, and Jason grinned, saying, “One more.”

There was another torrent of cursewords from the High Queen of The Borderlands, and then a loud, ear-piercing wail split the room, Jason standing, one of his assistant’s ushering Cain out of his seat, directing him on cutting the cord before they took the baby away to be cleaned, Cain’s lips pulling back in a snarl to stop them, only for me to intercede him, my hand on his chest as I sung, “Woah there, Cain! Go to your wife first.” There was no announcements of the gender, since everyone in this room was already aware. Heaven and Hell help that poor baby Princess, because there was no way my cousin was going to let her out of his sight for the first handful of months.

He swung at that, Adelia panting with exhaustion and lingering pain on the bed, Jason examining her for any tears or complications before applying Scara and Junenara, as well as threading up a needle, mumbling instructions to himself. Ouch.

Deciding I most definitely did NOT want to see Jason repair Adelia’s ladyparts, I strode to the head of the bed, heading for the door, wanting to give the new family privacy.

Cain, without looking away from his wife, threw his hand out, gripping my wrist and wrenching me back to his side, grumbling, “I want you to hold her.”

“Your wife?”

Flicking my nose, he muttered, “My daughter, smartass.”

Holy Hell Cain had a daughter. The thought slammed into me now that the ordeal was over, the cries of that little girl echoing from the joint bathroom of the room. In a moment, they would bring her out, all cleaned up, to be held by her parents.

“I better be the godmother,” I teased, my cousin rolling his eyes at the terrible pun, Adelia murmuring endearments to Cain, who kissed her palm. He was still suffering from Blood-Lust, but it was quickly fading now that he knew his wife and daughter was safe.

Adelia didn’t seem to feel the stitching Jason was doing, the Shaman smart enough to dull the pain, but she did wince at the soreness of the rest of her body whenever she shifted against the blankets, Cain brushing her hair back from her forehead, her sweat lingering.

“You did well, Adelia,” I said quietly, Adelia giving me a thankful nod, before wincing, saying, “I’m sorry about everything I said-” Holding a hand up, I cut her off, replying, “Don’t apologise. You were in a lot of pain.”

“I will be there for your birth, just as you were for mine,” the High Queen of The Borderlands promised, the sentiment sinking into me. Smiling at her, I genuinely, warmly, said, “Thank you.” Adelia was perhaps the only person I had confided my fears about childbirth to, except for my Connected, who could sense it all anyway, so her words struck a cord in me. She knew my fears, and promised to be there for me to face them all.

Jason finished whatever repairs and aftercare he needed to do, rising and lowering Adelia’s blood-stained nightgown down over her again, bowing to the three of us, murmuring, “I will return to my workshop now. Call on me at any time if you need me, otherwise I will return tomorrow night to check up on everyone.” With that, he left, pausing outside the door to wait for his assistants to join him.

“Thank you,” Cain and Adelia breathed, looking to each other in excitement as the bathroom door opened once more.

The little creature in Jason’s assistant’s arms thrummed with power, gurgling in delight as she was lowered onto her mother’s chest, Adelia and Cain’s mouths dropping open in awe.

Wiggling my fingers at the baby’s face, giving her a wave, I cooed, “Pretty little thing.”

Crown Princess Tallila Meridian Maladur-Kentin, Princess of The Borderlands and Hell, had a full head of blonde hair, even as a newborn, although it was plastered to her head, still damp with the depths of Hell knew what, and she smelt divine.

Did all babies smell like that? It was intoxicating in a strange way, my sentiments to defend the tiny thing in the High Queen’s arms almost tripling.

Her tiny, pale hands reached blindly into the air, her blue eyes the colour of the summer skies back on Earth, Cain’s face becoming something reverent, utterly enthralled by his little girl.

Tapping the little one’s nose, I added, “You are going to get so spoilt, little darling.” Grinning, I summoned the gift I had been eagerly wanting to reveal for over a month. Every day, I had waited for Adelia to go into labour just so I didn’t have to keep it a secret anymore.

It had taken several nights of favours to Lazarus to convince the Dark God of Daemonium to take me to Earth, specifically to the space in the sky above Cain’s childhood bedroom, and take a piece of that living night sky, entrapping it within a single, clear pendant.

A pendant I had then formed into a bracelet, wards carved into the surface of each and every chainlink, so small you could not see them unless you looked with a magnifying glass. The chain would grow with the girl, always fitting, never breaking. Peeking into the pink-wrapped gift box I had stored it in, Tallila’s name written in swirling letters across the front, I grinned. Right now, the pendant was as clear as day, a cloud drifting by in the pendant, the last of the stars beginning to wink out across its surface. Shutting the box once more, I handed it to Adelia, who asked, “What’s this?”

“The beginning of the spoiling of your daughter,” I said coyly, Cain rolling his eyes, Adelia asking incredulously, “Already?” Cain, clearing his throat nervously, held up a pink box of his own, Adelia mouthing, “Both of you?”

Shaking her head in surprise, she nestled Tallila to the side of her, pulling open the pink box, gasping in shock, Cain leaning in and peeking at it before swinging to face me, asking, “How did you get that?”

“I made it.” He glared at me, knowing I was lying even without an ability to sense them, and with a sigh, I amended, “I had Lazarus make it, but it’s from me. I made the wards on it.”

“There’s wards on it?” Adelia and Cain asked at the same time. Tapping the chains, I announced, “Protection, safety against enemy magic and powers, against mirages, for the bracelet to always fit her, for it to always guide her to her family-” Their eyes softened at that, Cain questioning, “What’s the scene in it?”

“That is a piece of the sky from above your childhood bedroom on Earth. It will go through day and night cycles, just like Earth.”

He folded in on himself, tears lining his eyes, Adelia undoing the clasp and gently placing it on her daughter’s tiny wrist, the newborn barely noticing it. Pulling out his own gift, Cain opened the box for his wife, pulling out the three pendants, one much smaller than the others.

On them, their initials. Cain’s, which was a solid piece of silver, held C. A. M, while Adelia’s was gold and sported A. M. K.

Tallila’s was made from pearl, and had T. M. M. K.

Placing them on his family first, Adelia wearing hers around her neck, Tallila on a small bracelet above the one I had gifted her, he then placed his around his throat, the pendant settling near his collarbone.

“Your poor daughter is going to have a hard time when she has to learn how to spell her name and title.”

“If she’s half as smart as you were as a baby, she’ll pick it up quickly,” Cain said wistfully, Adelia passing the baby to him. He held her like she was a porcelain doll, unsure and nervous, Adelia laughing and saying, “Relax, honey, you’ve got her.”

“I’ve got her,” he repeated breathlessly, his thumb sweeping over his daughter’s forehead, brushing hair back from her eyes. Be still my fluttering heart.

I watched her with the same reverence Cain had, and then, between one blink and the next, he was passing her over to me, my heart skipping a beat. Was this how Cain had felt when he had held me? Lifting my eyes, I leaned back, sitting crosslegged, Tallila in my arms, rocking her gently, murmuring, “Welcome to the world, beautiful Tally.”

Leaning over the two of us, Cain said, “This is your Aunty Destiny. She’s my closest friend and ally. You will always, always be safe with her.” Technically, I was Tallila’s cousin, but Cain and I were closer than mere cousins. We acted like siblings. Fought like siblings. Loved like siblings. We were loyal like siblings. Aunt and uncle to each other’s children.

“And spoilt rotten,” I said with a laugh, “Aunty Destiny isn’t playing around, sweetheart. She’s richer than even your daddy, so she’ll give you whatever your dark, mischievous heart desires. I’m thinking horse riding lessons, and dancing lessons, and training with the best money can buy. There’s going to be books and painting and sewing and singing and you’re just going to have the best childhood ever, that we can promise.”

Reaching over, Cain scooped his daughter out of my arms, placing her back in Adelia’s, bowing his head to me in thanks, gruffly saying, “Thank you for being there for me too, Des. It means a lot.”

“Any time,” I said with a wink, “So long as I get to hold all your cute little kids. Now, I’m going to go get some breakfast.”

I left the happy parents to breathe in the scent of their new baby, and simply come to terms with the fact that they would not be getting anymore sleep.

Heading downstairs, into the kitchen, I found Seth still seated at the counter, a highchair beside him, a young boy sat up within it, lifting a bottle of milk to his lips, Seth yawning tiredly. Adelia’s labour hadn’t been the only thing to change in the last four months. I had also started taking my responsibilities as Dane’s mother semi-seriously, since the young Princeling was the only reason Lazarus had agreed to let me stay here longer than our agreed-upon week, the Dark God citing that I would need all the practice I could get if I wanted to be a mother to an Anti-Angel. In truth, Seth had been the one to request I visit Dane, since the boy still cried for me, and true to form, I had caved to my Connected’s pleading eyes.

The kid was cute, which certainly made Dane easier to be around, but taking care of a child was hard, even with Dane’s mentors- who taught him everything he needed to know about the court, from dancing to politics to reading and writing and speaking in eloquent sentences much too big for such a tiny kid. His auburn hair had grown quite a lot in the last year, hanging down into his blue eyes, so I would have to cut it in the next week or so.

Sliding his eyes to me, Seth gave me a warm smile, rising to press a kiss to my lips, murmuring a good morning, his hand sliding down to gently swipe against my abdomen; Seth’s daily tradition of saying good morning and good night to our daughter, and who Seth called Dane’s little sister. Everyone in Cain’s city acknowledged Dane as ‘my’ child, although he would not carry the title of being my Crown Heir, not when he had his own to carry. No, Seth and I’s title would go to Reni.

I was four months pregnant now, far enough along that I would have been showing as a human, but I wasn’t human, and thus, my stomach was still perfectly flat. It was also far enough along that if Lazarus went sniffing about with his powers, he would notice that something was wrong, and the child I carried did not have nearly as much power as an Anti-Angel would have possessed, not to mention triple the soul. That would be all it would take for my months long ruse to be blown in a second, and for Seth, Reni and I to die.

Shaking the dark thought from my head, seeing as Lazarus had not been to see me since I had slept with him in exchange for a piece of the sky trapped in a pendant, over a month ago, I leaned into the embrace with Seth before ruffling Dane’s hair. These days, the Dark God of Daemonium was wrapped up with fighting his brother, who unfortunately had not perished when I had dumped his body into the Karmona sea.

With a cheeky giggle, Dane stammered uncertainly, “Mu- Mu-” Just as I thought he was going to say it, he stuck his tongue out between his lips, returning to his bottle, Seth laughing.

He was wearing a plain blue shirt that matched his eyes today, and a pair of jeans that made me wonder if he was going somewhere, a jacket slung over the back of a chair nearby him. On a couch shoved into the corner of the kitchen, Merry was asleep, a bottle of alcohol in his hand. At his feet, slumped half on the couch and half off, was Emmett. Empty bottles of everything from wine to ale surrounded them, spilling from a dark oak cabinet on my right that looked as if it had been raided.

“Merry went out last night with Emmett,” Seth offered up as explanation, summoning a plate of food for me, a cup of honeyed blood dropping into my hands. Thanking him with a mumble, I took a deep sip at the drink, groaning in relief at how it soothed my throat, my stomach no longer gnawing at itself.

Nihila had spent the last four month’s honing Seth’s Ancient ability, my Connected now able to freely wield it, twisting fate to his will, making him a valuable asset in the war effort.

More than valuable, even, since Lazarus had immediately appointed him to be a General alongside Cain.

Swapping the cup of blood for the bagel he had given me, the food melting in my mouth it was so fresh, I asked, “And what trouble did they get up to?”

“Merry won at a game of cards in the Rusty Tin and walked away with a prize of one-thousand gold. Emmett slept with Lydiav in some alleyway, and then they stumbled home, found Cain’s liquor stash here in the kitchen, and kept drinking.”

“Where are my Guardians?”

“Nym is training, Lydiav is sleeping, and Bal’gag is shopping.”

“Shopping?” I arched an eyebrow, “Since when does Bal’gag go shopping?”

With a shrug, shovelling another egg into his mouth, my Connected said, “He didn’t say why. Are you coming to the training with Nihila today?” Normally, I oversaw the training, but today I had other stuff to do. Court stuff. Bleh.

“Cain wants me to handle the soldiers today. There’s been some deaths at the war camp that he wants me to investigate and sign off on. He was going to go, but…”

“But his daughter has been born,” Seth finished for me, before turning his body to face me, giving me his full attention, his eyes darkening into something deadly, “Don’t let Lazarus sense you.”

“I won’t. He’ll be busy, anyway.” The Dark God had little time for his wayward, Demonic-being bride as of now, thank the depths of Hell. The last four months of my life had been bliss, for the most part, and an insightful look into what life with my family and friends would be like after the war was won.

Outside, in the heart of the city, the clocktower began to ring, signalling dawn, Seth rising from his chair and reaching for his jacket, tugging it on, the sleeves fitting snuggly to his muscled arms. My toes curled under the table, a dark smile tugging at my lips as Seth, sensing the rising desire in me, leaned in, smoothly whispering in my ear, “Perhaps I should stay, my beautiful fiancée.”

“Nihila would be furious,” I replied in an equally sweet tone, a wisp of my power sending Dane to one of his nurses, Seth kissing me, shucking off his jacket, stepping closer, until my back was pressed against the counter, his hands resting on either side of my waist.

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to the skin beneath my ear, teasing, ‘I want to do something rebellious today.’ I grinned at the words, kissing his jaw, pulling him closer.

‘Oh really? Perhaps Sellan was right, and New Dela will become a city of debauchery. What rebellious thing does your heart want? I can give you anything, after all.’ Being a Goddess of Daemonium was beginning to be rather fun; all the power and invincibility of it all, knowing I could take out whoever I wanted however I wanted. Kissing me on the lips and peeling away, he grinned as my face fell in disappointment, having expected him to take me upstairs, and he said, ‘I want a matching tattoo with Merry and Emmett. We’ve been talking about it, but I keep chickening out. Right now, I have a bit of courage in me, but they’re asleep.’

Huh. Not quite what I had expected, but I could have that arranged. Clicking my fingers, snatching the hangovers from Emmett and Merry, a bucket-worth of water appeared over the both of them, splashing down over their faces. They sat up, gasping and spitting water, their clothes and hair drying in an instant, my brother-in-law glaring at me, Emmett looking around in a daze, confused.

“Hell, are you high as well?” I questioned, snapping my fingers in front of the Korathian, who winked at me, slurring, “Your Guardian knows some interesting people…”

Looking to Merry, my hands on my hips, I dipped my chin to his friend, asking, “What did he take?”

“Knockout,” my brother-in-law said, “Was it really necessary to wake me up like that?”

Rolling my eyes, I knelt in front of Emmett, slapping him gently. His eyes were tinged red, and he looked around in a daze. Gripping his chin, I snapped, “Focus, Emmett!” When he did, my power sinking into his skin, he shuddered, only to hiss when I violently ripped the high away from him, tossing it into some random Hellhole, the Korathian muttering, “You always ruin my fun, Queen of Old Dela.” Casting a look over my shoulder at Merry, I said, “Considering how I was awoken this morning, yes.”

“Why? What happened?” Merry questioned in alarm, Seth pulling his jacket back on, a modern piece drawn by Cain and sewn by Adelia’s sister-in-law. Holding my hand up before he could panic, I said, “The Crown Princess of this city was born. My niece.”

“Cain named you her aunt,” Seth said, his words more a statement than a question, earning a nod from me, Merry grinning, “Can we see her?”

“No. She’s resting with her parents. There will be a party tonight commemorating her birth.”

“Cain must have been a joy to deal with throughout the birth. What was he like?”

Describing the ordeal, from the moment Cain had kicked down my door- which still needed to be repaired- to when I got to hold baby Tallila, Merry and Emmett snickering and awwing their way through the story, I finished it by sending an image of Tallila to Seth, whose eyes softened, dropping to my abdomen. I could hear his thoughts even without the connection: In five months, that would be us.

Placing my hands on my hips, I raised an eyebrow, declaring, “My Connected said the three of you are getting matching tattoos.”

The older boys looked to Seth, their eyes hopeful, and he dipped his chin, stammering, “We have to get it done quickly, otherwise I will back out again!”

They rose from the couch, or, in Emmett’s case, from the floor, in record speed, picking up their jackets and grabbing Seth’s arms, waving goodbye to us, Merry exclaiming, “I’ve already picked them out! Let’s go, little brother!” The door slammed shut behind them, Nihila appearing just in time for me to scoop up Seth’s cup of blood, sipping it from it, the Ancient of Darkness kicking her feet up on the table, her wings draping over her chair and scratching at the floorboards, cooing at me, “Morning, Dark Goddess.”

“Hell below, don’t call me that,” I groaned, dragging Seth’s plate over to me, picking up the bit of Fell meat he had been halfway through eating. Why was I so hungry today? It had to be Reni, her power growing every day, and thus burning through everything I had. Already, I had to eat quite a lot to sustain my own power. Adding Reni’s considerable powers on top was draining me. I could feel it, near my core, like a ball of yarn.

Dipping her chin to me, she winked, “I take it your Connected isn’t coming to training today.” Mumbling around a mouthful of food and blood, I said, “He’s getting a tattoo with Merry and Emmett.” Once I had finished eating, I would head to the war camp to oversee the first of those soldiers’ deaths. The quicker I could get the work at the war camp over with, the better. Now that I was halfway into my own pregnancy, Cain had lightened my workload, giving me most of my time off to shop with Lydiav, Nym and Bal’gag, or eat lunch with Adelia, or spend time in Cain’s new library with Sellan, the Fae launching deep into reading while I painted. Most of my scenes were simple, just sketches of things I had seen or places I had been, but others, like the canvas currently drying on its easel in the library, only partially completed, were more intricate. This one was a painting of the cities from Cain’s tallest Palace room. He had dedicated it, I had noticed months ago with a lump in my throat, to my mother, turning the room into an observatory for the sky.

“And what’s on your itinerary?” Nihila, thank the depths of Hell for her soul, summoned a pitcher of blood for me, refilling both of my glasses, which I picked up, sipping from and sighing, “Have to go to the war camp, sign off some deaths.”

“I’ll accompany you.” She said it too casually, like she was trying to hide something, and eyeing her in suspicion, I demanded, “Why?”

With a shrug, she said, “No reason.”

“Why, Nihila?”

Giving in with a glare, she tossed a look to the ceiling, beseeching something for help, and said, “Fine, Seth asked me to keep you safe! My mission is to distract Lazarus if he gets too close to you. We don’t want him replaceing out about the baby, after all.”

He would sense it now, not just what gender the child was, which Jason had helpfully informed me about, despite us already knowing, but what powers it had, the fact that it had a soul when it shouldn’t have- All damning evidence that could get us killed.

Knowing if I said no she would just follow me anyway, I conceded, muttering, “You’re just going to follow me if I say no.”

With a wink, the Ancient of Darkness sung, “Damn right.”

*

We left ten minutes later, dressed up and armed with enough weapons to take down Lazarus’ entire army, a jar of blood still in my hand that I sipped from. I had decided on wearing the dress Lazarus had made for me, the wards swirling down my arms, ever playing the part of faithful wife, and that crown of bone was back, although Nihila had cheekily stuck a New Dela pin in the bun of my hair, the crest shining in the early light.

Two bands of darkness- another gift of Lazarus’, curled around my wrists, feeling more like shackles than the bracelets I knew they were meant to be, and the ring from our marriage was still on my finger. Seth’s ring to me was on my middle finger, prepared to elegantly flip people off. My cloak of shadows tumbled down my back, ending near my feet, which were still bare, my toenails black once more.

Nihila had gone for a similar look, although she wore an Assassin uniform rather than a dress, her shadows covering her wings and horns, and she had forfeited jewellery in exchange for more shadows. Darkness and its shadow, that’s what we looked like. If death had a body, it would be me and the Ancient at my side.

Demonic-beings and Cain’s soldiers alike bowed to me, waiting until Nihila and I had passed by to rise from the ground, mud covering their knees.

The medical tent was still a five minute walk through the camp, smaller, private tents surrounding us, designed for those who were just beneath Generals in Lazarus’ army, like soldiers who had received special benefits for heroic kills, and it was around one of these tents that a crowd of people was gathering, all of them elbowing each other out of the way to see what laid within, the cloth doors pinned wide open by people.

Unable to see over their shoulders, I approached, Nihila hesitating, her powers sensing something I hadn’t, and she put her hand on my shoulder, murmuring, “Des, wait.”

Shrugging her hand off, a scowl creasing my forehead at the number of people, I began to push through, soldiers moving when they realised who was shoving them out of the way.

The mud became softer here, churned up by the footfall of soldiers, the brown becoming red and black, soaked in blood, and now that I was closer to the tent, I could see that the fabric was slick with it, words beginning to form. This had to be one of Lazarus’ sick punishments, the soldier within perhaps making a grave mistake on the battlefield, or insulting or embarrassing the Dark God. Hell knew he was probably pinned up there, displayed for the entire camp to see.

There were still too many people in the way, blocking what the message might have been, Nihila gripping my wrist, trying to wrench me back through the crowd, hissing in a breathless, panicked whisper, “Des, we have to go. You don’t need to see what’s in there.”

I pushed her off me again, only a handful of people in my way, soldiers looking back to see what the disruption was before bowing to me, backing away frantically, Nihila calling, “Des, don’t!” Her final words of warning came too late, the last two soldiers peeling away to reveal the tent within.

The furniture was still in place, a river of blood running across the floor from the single, ancient wooden cot with the cotton and wool blankets piled on it to the bathtub in the middle of the room, still full of water- I choked, thoughts fleeing from my head, the soldiers crowding back in behind me to see once more, some of them cracking jokes about what was within, others silently horrified, Nihila barking at them to move out of her way, the Ancient of Darkness pushing into the room behind me.

Her fingers slid into mine, squeezing. They hung limply there, my body too shocked to react.

It was like walking through a mirror and being shoved straight back into a violent, hateful memory. Sensing that I was about to lose it, and not wanting me to lose face in front of the court that barely respected me as it was, Nihila released my hand, swinging on her foot and storming toward the tent, barking, “Return to your damned stations! Why are you all lazing about here?! Go! GO!”

They dispersed, the weight of dozens of eyes disappearing, their chattering, gossiping voices with them, Nihila gently prompting, “We should report this to Cain.”

There were no words for me to reply with, not when my eyes were still locked on the sight.

Within the bathtub, its water still steaming hot, tendrils of it curling into the air, a soldier laid within. He still wore his uniform, his buttons neatly done up, his shoes still laced, and his head was tilted up against the back of the tub, his glazed-over eyes staring blankly at the room. At me. It was like they had been positioned, someone knowing I would stand here. Wisps of his brown hair hung over his forehead, clinging there with sweat, and his skin was only just beginning to pale, the body fresh. He had pointed ears, making him either Demonic or Fae, and on the floor, soaked in blood, was a family sketch and a handwritten note.

In his hand was a razor blade, the edge coated in blood, and his wrists were covered in deep, deliberate cuts, blood still oozing out. He had lost enough that he was beyond saving, just like- “Destiny.” Nihila’s voice sliced through the room and my head, the Ancient gripping my shoulders and pulling me back, out of the room, my skin suddenly cold.

We stepped outside, the mud squishing underneath our feet, Nihila’s wings spreading, her shadows wrapping around me, securing me to her before she launched herself into the sky, too distracted to use her power. Sailing into the clouds, she released a long exhale, looking to me.

I met her gaze.

Did my eyes look just as hollow as the soldiers’ had? Was that why the Ancient looked so concerned?

“I’m fine.” The words were brittle, a cheap shot at a lie that should have been better considering my Demi-Sin, Nihila giving an unconvincing nod, murmuring, “Fine is good. Did you see what the words on the tent were?”

Shaking my head, I clutched my cloak closer, Nihila exhaling in relief, before her shadows wrapped around us, dropping us into Cain’s bedroom. Adelia was laying on the bed, a blanket thrown around her lower body, while Cain sat at her feet, rocking his daughter.

One look at our faces and he was standing, passing Tallila to her mother before following us out, Nihila explaining something, her words echoing like she was down a tunnel, lost to me behind a roaring in my head. Someone had killed that soldier, and then laid out his body like a sickening form of artwork, a masterpiece created just for me.

I heard Cain reply, asking a question, and Nihila reply once more.

And then Cain was in front of me, gripping my shoulders, looking directly into my eyes as he spoke, although I understood him just as little as I had Nihila. Who had killed the soldier? That body had been fresh. He hadn’t been sitting there for hours, waiting for me, which meant someone had waited until they had known I would be there, killing the soldier maybe minutes before I had arrived. They had timed it perfectly. How could someone have done that without being noticed?

“Des, sweetheart.” That was Seth’s voice, Cain and Nihila standing to the side while Seth spoke to me, my head rising. Hell, my voice sounded so rough when I replied, like I hadn’t spoken in centuries. How long had it been? My eyes lifted slowly to him, the movement requiring a monumental amount of effort.

“Seth.”

The three around me murmured prayers of relief, my Connected missing his shirt, his face coated in a thin layer of sweat, like he had been in pain. Behind him, Merry and Emmett were hovering, also shirtless. They must have been training, for all of them to be missing their shirts. Across Merry’s chest was what appeared to be a poorly done, or at least unfinished, tattoo, the skin still red and raised around the edges. Emmett sported one down his bicep, while Seth- I couldn’t see his, but he was just as coated in sweat as the other two. Maybe it was on his leg?

Right. The tattoos. They must have left while in the middle of getting them to come check on me. Pulling me into a hug I didn’t return, my Connected peeled away a moment later, asking, “Can you tell me what happened?”

I frowned slightly, opening my mouth to speak, only to hesitate. How did I explain?

I saw a soldier, dead in a tub, his wrists slit in a deadly attack. I saw my mother, dead after committing suicide. I saw a dirty tent and a porcelain bathroom, and a war camp and a home in London. There were dozens of things I saw, some new memories, some older than even this Dimension.

“Show me, love.” His mind brushed against mine, directing me, the connection showing me the way through, the images flashing through my head, and thus his. I did, pouring it all out, Seth holding my hand, squeezing when he felt my fear and pain, his thumb brushing against the inside of my wrist when my grief surfaced.

The slideshow of memories finished, Seth turning to Cain, relaying what had happened, my cousin’s face darkening. He turned to Nihila, barking an order I didn’t hear, before Seth said, “I’ll take her with us.”

Nihila vanished, and my body was wedged between three shirtless men, their arms banded around my shoulders, protectively guiding me down through the Palace, Seth’s concerned eyes glued to my face.

It wasn’t until we were halfway through the Town Square, the shock of what I had seen beginning to morph into a numbness I could shove from the front of my mind, that I questioned, “Why are you taking me with you?”

“We’re taking care of you,” Emmett said at the same time Merry replied, “You’re my sister-in-law. If you need someone to watch you when you’re vulnerable, we will.”

Seth brushed a thumb down my cheek, gently saying, “You’re my Connected, love.”

“That’s three different answers.”

“Indeed it is,” Emmett grinned, “Still the clever thing we met two years ago, being able to count to three. It’s nice to see, really. Normally Ordeallan beats the smarts out of you.”

“I recall Seth whacking you upside the head after you hinted to wanting to sleep with me, so it seems Ordeallan beat the smarts out of YOU.”

Pressing his hand to his heart, he sighed wistfully, “Oh, to relive those simple days.”

Merry huffed his agreement. Schooling the guilt I felt growing before it could form on my face, since it was my fault they had been forcefully pulled from those ‘simple days’, I slid my hand into Seth’s.

He squeezed my fingers lovingly, the four of us approaching a shop made from brick, the windows covered in sketches of tattoos, Seth beginning to tremble.

Merry and Emmett didn’t let him hesitate, the former reminding him that the tattoo had already been started and couldn’t be left unfinished, the latter asking him how he could face literal death but not a needle.

Eyeing my Connected, since I couldn’t see a tattoo anywhere, Seth mumbled, “It’s on my back.” Falling back a step, Merry wrenching the door to the shop open, a small bell ringing, Emmett calling out, “We’re back, and we have the Queen of Old Dela with us!”, I arched an eyebrow at the black tattoo on Seth’s back.

It was intricate for linework; a detailed network of knots and spirals that ran in lines down his back, curving to form a circle in the middle, where the Demonic words for loyalty, love and happiness were now inked. Merry was right, it was only half-finished, the ink needing to be properly traced over. Seth’s skin was red and swollen, but that didn’t stop my toes from curling against the cobblestones, my Connected pausing.

His voice was breathless in my mind when he asked, ‘Do you like it?’

‘I love it.’ If it weren’t so sore looking, I would have run my fingers down his back, or dragged him into the nearest alleyway to have my way with him. Giving me a stern look, delight dancing in his eyes, a dark smile tugging at his lips, he paused, Merry holding the door open, to pull me to his side, pressing a kiss to the corner of my lips and huskily whispering, “Tonight, my beautiful fiancee. You can explore it tonight.”

“Not if you don’t hurry up and get the damned thing finished, little brother!” Merry teased, my cheeks burning red hot, Seth hurrying into the store, pulling me behind him.

The tattoo store here in New Dela was quiet, four cushioned tables sitting in sections across the room, divided by thick curtains, and four young-looking Nephilim waiting on wooden chairs, a smaller cabinet sporting pots of coloured and black ink, a bowl of bones sharpened into thin needles, and cloths soaking in boiling water beside each of them.

Merry and Emmett had already taken their seats on the beds once more, the curtains pulled back, allowing them to look and talk to each other. My brother-in-law had laid on his back, his head near the Nephilim now preparing to continue the tattoo, dipping a sharp needle of bone into a pot of black ink, Seth wincing as the Nephilim picked up a small wooden hammer, lining up the needle before slamming the hammer atop it, driving the needle in.

Merry didn’t even flinch.

Emmett had remained sitting up, since his tattoo was on his bicep, lazily grinning at the Nephilim male who was cleaning a needle to use.

Seth nervously shuffled over to the first bed in the room, the Nephilim tattoo artist giving him a nod, asking, “Ready to continue?”

Gulping thickly, Seth said, “Yes.”

They pat the bed with one hand, motioning for Seth to jump up, which he did, my Connected settling onto the table before flipping, his stomach pressed against the table, his back exposed.

Pulling up a chair for me on the other side of the bed, the tattoo artist watched me while she cleaned her needle, swirling the ink in the pot before setting it down, dipping the needle into it, coating it smoothly. Lining it up, she pressed it lightly against Seth’s skin, my Connected drawing in a breath and holding it in horrified anticipation. Picking up the small hammer, she bent down, ensuring it would hit the needle in straight, asking me in a guttural voice, “You the Queen of Old Dela, yes?” She spoke like someone who had grown up in the eastern part of Ordeallan, before Cain had ensured everyone would have decent living standards, her voice untrained, her words cobbled together like she wasn’t entirely certain how they worked.

I nodded once, the tattoo artist slamming the hammer down, Seth letting out a quiet whimper of pain, his hands gripping the edge of the table near his head, tucking his face into the crook of his elbows, hiding it.

Placing my hand on his arm, I brushed my mind against his comfortingly. She dipped the needle in ink again, shifting it over on Seth’s skin, repeating the process. It was only when she pierced his skin a second time that she said, “Even so, you ain’t better than anyone else here, got it?” I kept my hand on Seth’s arm, my Connected hissing under his breath in pain, asking the girl what the Hell she meant by that kind of statement. Soothing his anger with a few gentle words in my mind, he went quiet, prepared to let me handle the woman.

“Never thought I was,” I purred dangerously, my power pressing in at the arrogance in the girl’s voice. Who the Hell did she think she was?

“I saw ya little light show at ya coronation. You think you hot shit, just like every other Royal we ever had.” She slammed the needle in again, the ink beginning to appear on Seth’s skin, as well as blood that she wiped away with one of those cloths. My powers swirled, Daemonium begging me to tear her apart. Swallowing the urge with a thinly-pressed smile at her, the woman not knowing how close to death she currently danced, I turned back to Seth.

Dipping it again, she pointed the tip at me, giving me a grin that was missing teeth as she said, “Remember, little girl, even Queen’s bleed.”

*

“I can’t believe she said that to you!” Seth barked angrily from where he was sprawled, backside up, on our bed, his shirt still off. Smoothing a swirl of Scara over his freshly-inked skin, the sky outside darkening, I murmured, “It’s okay, really.” We were back in his room, the sheets peeled back so my Connected could rest, the curtains tied open to reveal the night sky, the window open just enough to let a crisp breeze in without allowing snow to coat our room. Adjusting the black cotton nightgown I wore, my skin sensitive and aching tonight thanks to Reni and the energy she continued to leech from me, I leaned over my Connected, rubbing Scara into the top of his shoulder, where the tattoo began, smoothing it down to the small of his back and the ending of the tattoo. In the end, all three men had decided on similar versions of the same tattoo. They all sported the same three Demonic words, as well as the knot-design, reminding me of the Celtic knots back on Earth. Seth’s ran down his back in lines from top-to-bottom, while Merry’s went across his chest from left to right, the Demonic words mixed inbetween, written in swirling letters as though the rope that made up the knots spelt them out. Emmett’s curled around his bicep in several spirals that ended just above his elbow. Neither of them had elaborated as to why they had chosen that tattoo in particular.

“No, it isn’t okay. She insulted my pregnant fiancee. How is that okay?”

Dipping my fingers back into the Scara jar, I huffed a laugh, murmuring, “If you tried to fight every person who insulted me, you would spend a lot of time fighting.” He turned, looking at me from over his shoulder, a scowl of pain and anger on his face, asking, “I thought you would be upset by it.”

Rubbing the Scara over the three Demonic words, I hummed, “I have heard worse, and so have you. If we’re going to be King and Queen of Old Dela, then you need to stop worrying about when people insult me like that.”

“She threatened you!”

“No, she reminded me I bleed. She’s a tattoo artist living in New Dela, she can’t hurt me. She wouldn’t make it ten feet within the Palace before a Guard would take her down. And beyond that, she is a Nephilim. She can’t kill me anymore than you could have when we met.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“You know it’s true, sweetheart,” I teased, tapping his nose with my finger. He grinned, shuffling around, leaning over to kiss me, and someone knocked on the door. Sniffing, I winced, rising from the bed and summoning a robe to me, pulling it on over the nightgown, explaining, “It’s your mother.” Offering a prayer to the depths of Hell, Seth rose, pressing a kiss to my temple, joining me at my side, his arm sliding around my waist as he opened the door, murmuring, “Karla.” She gave the two of us a brisk nod, barely acknowledging me as she shoved her way into the room, a bag slung over her arm, before saying, “You knew it was me?”

“Scent,” we both said at the same time, the Nephilim woman sighing.

“I forget you aren’t Nephilim anymore, sometimes, Seth.” Dumping the bag onto the bed, she clicked her tongue, muttering, “I figured I would bring you some things. Lucy threw a gift in there, too. Are you going to come to the rooms and see her, or are you forgetting she exists?”

“That’s a low blow, Karla,” Seth mumbled at the same time I snapped, “He’s been dead! There’s not a lot of visitors in the Void!” Glaring at me, Karla icily replied, “He’s been alive for four months, and has come to see her all of six times in that time.”

“We’re planning a war. Lucy is safe with Tarragon.”

“I want to talk to you outside, Desterium. May I?”

Seth ran a hand through his hair, kissing my cheek, tension radiating off him in waves. If he went out with his mother, there was going to be a full-blown argument, I could just tell.

‘Your choice, love.’

Karla was wearing a nightgown, which meant she wasn’t staying long. Whatever she had to say to me, it was likely just a short, not-so-sweet message.

“Let’s go in the hallway then.”

The Night-Hunter woman waved a hand for me to lead the way, her dress swishing, the door closing behind us, leaving us in the empty hallway. On the other side of the door, I could hear Seth beginning to rifle through that bag, tactfully close enough to the door that he could still hear.

Leaning against the wall, I crossed my arms, saying, “Go ahead, Karla.”

She studied me for a moment, the robe, the nightgown beneath it, the rings on my left hand, her lips twisting up in disdain when she saw their positions, before she sweetly asked, “Do you think you’re being clever?”

Twisting a strand of my hair around my finger, I smiled, replying, “I typically am clever, wouldn’t you say?” Pressing her lips together, she eyed me, ensuring I was finished to say, “My son, bless his heart, is a sweet kid. I raised him to be that way. He’s naively innocent to how the world works.” Clicking my tongue, I said, “I would call it a failing on your part, rather than a virtue, but sure. Why does Seth’s naivety matter to me?”

“Because you’re using it against him. I’m not stupid, Princess of Hell. Now, I haven’t figured out why you want my son married to you, or why you pretend to love him. Maybe it’s just something fun for you to do outside of planning the war, maybe you enjoy leading people on like that, but I won’t silently stand by while you-”

“I replace it funny that you think I’m the one who pushed him into a relationship when I repeatedly shoved him away. He chased me, Karla.”

“You let him chase you.” Her face pinched in with anger and frustration, not having expected me to fight back. It shouldn’t have been surprising at this point. I wasn’t the kind to sit back and let someone talk down to me.

“My other option would have been to kill him. I suppose I could always circle back to that age-old method. Worked for you, after all.”

Karla paused, looking vaguely disturbed as she asked, “Excuse me?” She peered both ways down the hallway, confirming it was empty just as I said, “Like you so helpfully pointed out, Maiden of Midnight, you are not a stupid woman. You had to have known that Joseph wasn’t at the docks all that time, that his pay didn’t quite match up, that his personality was changing little-by-little, how he started treating the boys, training them up in things that, living in Ordeallan, they never had to know. You would have noticed those things immediately, being trained the way you were-” The lanterns flickered throughout the hallway, banking on a wind, and had I not known for certain that Karla did not contain even a hint of the Aos Si magic that ran through her bloodline, I would have thought it was her and her rage. Luckily, I could sense no magic in the room, and certainly not emanating from her.

“I never knew Joseph was visiting Caliem! How dare you-” Got you, you little bitch. I grinned in satisfaction, the Maiden of Midnight caught out in a lie she had kept going for years.

“And I never said he was visiting Caliem.” The Nephilim woman deflated like a balloon pierced by a pin, her eyes becoming wet with tears, realising what she had let slip in her mistake. Patting her shoulder, I mocked, “There, there.”

“How could you have figured-”

“You forget that I am thirty-three thousand years old. I may have been dead when your husband visited my home, but my cousins were not. My Guardians were not. My people still report back to me, Maiden of Midnight, and when Seth found out how his father had been killed, it confused me on how you could be so well-trained you knew Reece was after your children, but not enough to notice your husband blatantly, and badly, lying to you, so I did a little digging last month. Did you know there was a report of a blonde-haired Nephilim woman accompanying Joseph to the Caliem Manor? Most people assumed it was Alyssa, and some idiot Demonic-being had listed the wrong Super-Natural species, but I know for a fact that my people don’t make mistakes like that, not when it was Nym, my Guardian, who had written the report. You knew Joseph was trying to sell Seth and Merry to the Caliem Manor. In fact, you accompanied him, so I replace it funny that you accuse me of manipulating Seth into a relationship when it was you and your husband who were willing to train your sons to manipulate me.” Her eyes widened in horror, and I smirked.

“If that were the case-” Karla stammered nervously, only for Seth to pull open the door, begging in a breathless voice, “That’s enough, please.”

Looking to him, tapping my hip, I sighed, “Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about, Karla?”

She shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes, Seth glaring at me when I added in a sing-song voice, “I didn’t think so.”

Shrugging I mumbled, ‘She started it.’

‘Destiny!’ He hissed in my mind, before turning to his mother, sighing, “Let’s get you something to eat and drink, mum.” He carted her away, saying in my mind, ‘Did you have to do that, Des? Holy shit.’

Storming back into the room, Seth having left a bundle of objects laid out on the bed, I spat, ‘She had no right accusing me of trapping you! If she can’t take it back, maybe she shouldn’t be dishing it out!’

‘She’s just stressed-’ Seth began nervously, leaving me to hiss, ‘No, she’s a bitch!’

‘ENOUGH, DESTINY!’ He roared angrily, ‘I can’t talk to you right now! When you’re not acting like a child, we can discuss this!’ He slammed the connection shut, his and Karla’s scent drifting away, toward the kitchen downstairs. Rolling my eyes, I clicked my fingers, a bath beginning to run down the hall, in the shared bathing room for this floor, since I could sense it was empty, a bundle of clothes appearing in my arms.

Exhaustion rolled down my spine, even that small amount of power costing me. Glancing down to my abdomen, my hand resting there, I murmured, my hands trembling, “You really are fighting my body for resources.” I had heard it before, even from Cain, how Demonic-beings fought each other for energy, but it was different feeling it. Every time I used my powers, I felt that tug of tiredness, since most of it was devoted to growing the daughter within me, and it was beginning to leave me feeling rundown. Thank the depths of Hell I had killed Jezebel before hitting this point.

I had never felt Seth this angry before, either, never with me. I had struck a nerve, insulting his mother.

I should have known that would be the one thing to set him and his Nephilim mind off.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I strode across the room, carrying my clothes, to examine the bottles of bodywash Seth had on a small desk in the corner, underneath a window, Lazarus’ voice filling my mind as he asked, ‘Feeling tired, love?’ A hint of his power floated through the room, a giftbox appearing on the bed, wrapped in black wrapping paper with white spots that blinked in and out of life like stars.

‘What’s this?’

‘A gift for the child. Do you know if it’s male or female?’

‘Female,’ I hummed, abandoning the clothes to pluck up the box, reading the note across the surface. It was addressed to our future child, Lazarus urging, ‘Open it.’

The ribbons fell away with ease, revealing that the box was filled with black silk, shadows curling out of the box, filling the room with darkness, a galaxy blinking to life around me.

Gasping in surprise, feeling Michael’s magic roaring to life within me, I stood suddenly, the box clattering to the floor, Lazarus laughing. The hair on my body rose, the darkness pressing in, feeling claustrophobic rather than comforting. I didn’t like the sound of that laugh.

‘Your daughter will be the Queen of Night.’

THE child. YOUR daughter. Those words hadn’t been chosen by accident, had they…? Realisation hit me, colder than the air blowing through the window, my back straightening as I slid into a defensive position, summoning a blade to me. How could he have known?

What helped him figure it out?

‘Lazarus-’ I began in a slow voice, the Dark God of Daemonium appearing on the bed in front of me, the shadows peeling back enough to reveal the two of us, the rest of the room still cast in darkness. If we were even still in the room. With Lazarus’ power, there was a chance we were drifting somewhere in the galaxy, in some Hellhole he was going to dump my body once he was finished torturing me for lying to him.

Arching an eyebrow at me, he gave me a sinister smile, purring, “Yes, Desterium?”

“Y- You say ‘my’ daughter. T- The child is ours,” I stammered in a panic, trying to back away, only for the shadows to press against my back, freezing the skin there, making me wince in pain. The stars bit at me, and I got the distinct feeling that he was turning the darkness against me.

That smile stretched further across his face, even when he tilted his head, studying me, before murmuring, “Is that so, darling?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Come here, Desterium.” He crooked a finger at me, leaning back in Seth and I’s bed, the possessiveness making me grind my teeth. Who the Hell did he think he was, trying to bed me where my Connected and I slept?!

The shadows pushed in further, stinging wherever they touched, a hiss echoing from my lips. I strode forward, taking a seat on his lap, the Dark God of Daemonium dragging a finger down my cheek, his fingernail digging in, a line of blood dripping from my cheek. His eyes were narrow slits, his lips pursed tightly together.

He snarled, pinning me to the bed beneath him, moving too quickly for me to anticipate it, and he growled in my ear, “This rooms reeks of you and that idiot Nephilim.”

“It’s our room,” I snapped, slamming my fist into his throat. He flinched back before holding me down again, replying, “I would like to change that.” His hand hiked up my thigh, pushing my dress higher, his power pressing in on us again. Leaning in, he tugged on my earlobe with his teeth, breathing sensually, like his words were a love spell instead of a promise of violence, “If I could guarantee carving that child out of you would not kill you, I would.” My power reared at the threat, only for the Dark God to shove them down again, tsking in disappointment, capturing my lips in another kiss.

“I hate you,” I seethed, tilting my head away from his lips, “There is nothing that will make me love you!”

“I didn’t count on your love when I married you, darling. I needed your power and your body, and once I’m done with those things, I will toss you back to Cain. If it weren’t for his and I’s little bargain, I would kill you.”

He had me stuck, pinned between the bed and his body, his hands beginning to roam once more, his power keeping my hands against the mattress above my head.

One finger brushed against my abdomen, drawing blood there, before he purred, “I had another gift for your child.”

“You can keep right the Hell away from my child!” I snarled, “Sleep with me, force me to be your Queen, whatever the Hell you want, but you keep away from her!” Lazarus smirked, dipping to lick the blood from my stomach.

“You hated my presence as a child. I wonder if your child will feel the same? A smidgeon of my power would make her deadly enough to be a threat to anyone. You yourself know how lonely that kind of power can be. Nobody wants to play with the Princess who can break bones if she loses a game of checkers.”

He pressed his palm down, my skin burning where it touched, his power sinking down, making me beg, “Lazarus, don’t! Leave her out of this!”

“I could also make her genetically mine, instead of that Nephilim brat’s. Would you prefer that? The daughter of a Dark God and Goddess of Daemonium instead of the daughter of a Goddess of Daemonium and an Ancient of Chance.” His power swirled deep within my body, near my core, threatening to do just that. I struggled against him, shouting, “I will slit your throat and leave your dried out body hanging on the walls of my Palace, Lazarus-” Kissing me again, swallowing my words, he excitedly said, “There’s my dark little Demon.” He tugged his shirt off, his power keeping me in place, kissing me again, this time on my throat, his teeth leaving a marking that made me wince- a claiming that I knew was for my Connected to see; a reminder that no matter where I went, I would belong to Lazarus, not Seth.

“That’s right,” Lazarus mused, his power still swirling deep within my abdomen, where he could wreak any kind of havoc, anything from harming my daughter to stealing my power, “You do belong to me, so what in darkness went through your head when you let another man touch you?”

“That I hate you touching me! I would rather sleep with the shadows than with you!” I shouted, wondering if anyone could hear us. It would be Lazarus’ twisted fun to have everyone be able to hear us, but not be able to help, and through those shadows, who knew what was on the other side of the door. I couldn’t even see the roof above me, or the end of the bed.

“I think the shadows would very much enjoy you, wouldn’t you?” He tilted his head up, listening to something. Fighting to swallow the horror, knowing he was toying with me, since the shadows weren’t living things, I felt it resurface with a vengeance when a voice replied, “Yes, our liege.”

Leaning off me, his power still wrapped around me, trapping me, he ordered, “Have a little fun with her. Keep her alive.” The darkness around us pressed in, stinging against my skin, leaving razor-thin cuts that made me scream despite my full-blooded body, the shadows sinking into those cuts, invading my bloodstream, racing through my body, the warmth being sucked from my body like it had never existed, replaced with an unending coldness, like the Hollowing but worse. Hell, even my emotions began to flee, leaving me blank; a fresh canvas for Lazarus and his darkness to ruin. Sliding off the bed, he knelt beside my head, whispering to me, “Perhaps, in future, do not say such things when you know so little about what I can command.” But shadows were not living things! This wasn’t possible! The thoughts, which should have been dripping with panic, were nothing more than hollow, empty shells, Lazarus summoning a chair as he watched, my claws shredding the sheets in my pain. They tortured me, boiling my blood, toying with my heartbeat and breathing, clawing at where my daughter was, my power desperately trying to protect her. I would sacrifice myself to save her. Could Seth feel my pain? Was he currently trying to break that door down?

Eventually, the Dark God of Daemonium grew bored of simply watching, waving the shadows away. They fled from the remaining cuts that were yet to heal, a gasp emptying my lungs. I sunk into the mattress, relieved at the break from the pain, only for Lazarus to study me.

“What do you want me to do?”

His power was still there, right alongside my own, near my daughter, threatening to break my entire world. Swallowing my pain, and the blood I could taste in my mouth, some of it running down the sides of my face and onto the pillow my head rested on, I choked out, “What do you mean?”

“Do I give her some of my power, or change her to be mine?”

“Lazarus, please-” He stood, striding for the end of the bed, wanting me to watch every second, smirking cruelly when I reached a hand out, begging, “Leave her out of this. She d- didn’t do anything wrong. Punish me, do whatever you want with me, but please, please leave her out of this. I am begging you.” If I chose the first option, my heart would break for my daughter, because the Dark God of Daemonium was right. Power was nothing more than loneliness in a clever disguise. It would make her an outcast. If I chose the second option, Seth’s heart would break, and everything he had sacrificed for me would be for nothing.

“Choose before I choose for you, and you and I both know what my choice will be.”

“Lazarus-”

“One more chance, darling, before your Connected is removed from the equation. Choose.”

Lifting my head up as far as I could, I screamed at him, “You have made me do despicable things in the name of your war! I have killed children! I have tortured people! I have been raped and beaten and kept hostage, and everything, I did everything, so you could win this war and all of it would be over! Do not ask me to choose whether my daughter is an outcast or the descendant of a sadistic God!”

“Descendant it is,” he said smugly, his power sinking further, the shadows pressing in again. I cursed, screaming every insult at him I could, my own power slamming into him, leaving red bruises across his body. Why couldn’t I stop him?! I had fought Nazareth easily enough! Why was nothing working?!

The hopelessness of it all sunk into me, the realisation that he was going to make Reni his and there was nothing I could do about it ripping apart my very soul, I felt his power wrap around Reni, only for him to retract it suddenly, laughing at the tears flowing from my eyes.

Pulling away entirely, the light returned to the room, the lanterns glowing gently, and he placed the giftbox back on my lap, singing, “There’s still a gift in there, darling.”

He vanished without another word, the room fading away from me as I turned onto my side, curling around my abdomen and sobbing. He hadn’t changed her. Reni was still Seth’s. She was safe. She was safe.

My power, now free from Lazarus’ bindings, formed a shield around me, not even the chill of the room managing to break through. He had just wanted to scare me, and prove that he knew I was lying. His goal tonight had been to cause mental harm. How long would it be until he did decide to go after Reni?

Closing my eyes, I simply laid there, curled around my unborn daughter, listening to both our heartbeats with my power…

Some time later, the door opened, Seth striding in, only to swear, rushing to my side, the shield dropping to let him in. Scooping me into his arms, he began sprinting down the hall, kicking open Cain’s door.

My cousin was seated at his desk, reading over paperwork for his city, while Adelia was in an armchair by the window, feeding Tallila, her dress down around her waist, the baby gurgling happily. Seth blushed, averting his eyes, only for Cain to demand, “What the Hell happened to the two of you?” Dropping his quill, he rushed to my Connected, scooping me out of his arms, carrying me over to another armchair in the corner, placing me down on it and summoning a first aid kit, studying the cuts on me. Their edges were black, like the shadows had left a residue.

“Not to me,” Seth gasped, “To her. I was out with my mother, and when I came back- Hell, I was only gone ten minutes, Cain!” Ten minutes. That wasn’t possible, was it? Unless Lazarus had altered the time in the room somehow. He could do that, no doubt.

“Is our child okay, Des?” He asked me. Lifting my head to him, I nodded weakly, murmuring, “She’s fine… Lazarus knows.”

The room stilled, even Adelia stiffening, Tallila beginning to cry in her arms, feeling the shift of emotion. It was Cain who shook the surprise and worry off first, dabbing a Scara-soaked cloth to my knee, promising, “I’ll have Nihila reinforce the wards.”

“Cain, about what happened today-” That soldier was playing on my mind, the cuts covering my body reminding me of what had happened, my cousin shaking his head, murmuring, “Is it wise for us to discuss this?” For me, he meant. He could discuss it just fine, but me… “I’m fine. I want to talk about it.”

Nodding slowly, Cain explained, “Nihila said the writing on the tent and the way the soldier was so fresh indicated murder rather than suicide. The soldier was a Faery, from Syphien’s old division.” He hadn’t killed himself… It was almost a relief to hear, even if it meant we had a killer on the loose in the war camp. I could deal with a murderer easier than I could with the idea that our soldiers were taking their own lives.

“Any hints as to who it could have been?” My voice was pure business, the only way I could handle something like this, and Cain replied, “They were brutal, and smart. They knew what we would look for. There’s no imprints of magic or power, no fingerprints, no obvious scents. It’s almost like a shadow killed him. I investigated the tent myself, and there’s nothing. It’s spotless, other than the blood.” My blood ran cold at his implication, knowing full well now that it wasn’t entirely impossible for a shadow to have ended the soldier’s life.

“It was a direct attack against me,” I said quietly, Cain saying, “I know.”

“Someone knew how Sarah had died, and they tried to mimic it-”

“Des, I know. We don’t need to talk about this. The obvious is there, cousin.”

“Was it Lazarus who hurt you just then?” Seth asked warily, grimacing when I nodded, adding, “Did he bed you in there?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Thank the depths of Hell.”

“Why?”

Seth’s blue eyes darkened, becoming the colour of storms, and he said, “Because I would have killed him. That room is my territory, and you are mine within it.”

My toes curled before I could stop them, desire racing down my spine at the possessiveness, Cain scenting the change in me, tucking away the bandages, patting my knee and murmuring, “I’ll let you two handle the rest of the wounds. Destiny, we can discuss the dead soldier tomorrow. There will be a meeting downstairs in the dining room to discuss it.”

“What did the writing say?” He paused, hesitating, before sighing, “It said that even Queen’s bleed.” Seth went as still as Cain, paling, looking to me and whispering, “That’s what the tattoo artist said.”

“What tattoo artist?” Cain demanded, my cousin looking between the two of us. He looked like a King listening to his subjects, the crown on his head weighing down his long hair, which was, for once, not tied up. The sides needed to be shaved again. They were beginning to grow long. Casting my eyes to the ceiling, I relayed to Cain what the tattoo artist had said, Cain muttering, “A revolution this early on…”

“It’s not a revolution. It’s someone screwing with us, likely from Nazareth’s side of the war,” I assured, “Nobody is coming to get me.”

“Let’s hope not,” Seth sighed, Cain saying, “The Palace is reinforced. Unless one of us let’s someone in, they aren’t getting in. Unless they are Lazarus, apparently- a problem I will rectify tomorrow morning. Which reminds me… My mother will be here tomorrow morning.”

“Excuse me?” I asked. I must have misheard him, because it sounded like he said Lilith was coming to visit tomorrow, as if the Mother of All Demons just popped around for tea and biscuits on the regular! Swallowing thickly, he repeated, “My mother is coming over tomorrow to meet Tallila.” Gaping at him, I studied his head for wounds, demanding, “Are you brain damaged, Cain? What the Hell were you thinking?”

“It was a part of the deal I had to strike in order to have you sold to me after the war. I needed a way to Daemonium, so I went to Caliem first-”

“They could have killed you! If they were smart, they would have! Are you an idiot?!”

“I already yelled at him, Destiny,” Adelia sighed heavily from the corner, “He doesn’t listen.”

“Evidently not!” I spat, throwing my hands in the air in frustration, “Lilith isn’t your average, sweet, cookie-baking grandmother, but sure, invite her around! She’s only been trying to kill us for two years!”

“She wanted to meet Tallila.” Giving him the best side-eye I had, hoping my tone was sarcastic enough for it to sink through his thick head, I sniped, “Yeah, meet was definitely the word on her mind. I’m sure slaughter, behead and bury was also up there on the list.”

“Destiny! I will be looking after my daughter! She will not leave my sight!”

“No, she won’t. And my eyes will be glued to Lilith like a hawk. If she so much as farts wrong I’m going to rip her head from her shoulders, do you understand me?”

Seth snickered, Adelia gently patting Tallila’s back, trying to help the little newborn burp, Cain glancing over his shoulder, his eyes softening.

“It’s late,” he said quietly, “Let’s get some sleep and meet up tomorrow. Lilith will be here just before dawn.” He wanted time to himself with Adelia, especially now that Tallila was falling asleep in his wife’s arms.

“Perfect. I’ll be meeting her in the Palace garden.”

In fact, after that news, I doubted I was going to be sleeping. I would get dressed, pick up a weapon, and wait for her to arrive.

Rising to her feet, fixing her dress, Adelia and Cain exited the room, Seth and I following. They entered the nursery, where Tallila’s cot was waiting, the High Queen of The Borderlands placing her daughter down on the light pink mattress. The second her fingers left Tallila’s skin, the Queen turning to Cain, whose eyes lit up deviously, the little baby began crying. Disappointment laced their faces, only for me to sweep in, lifting my niece from her cot, scooping her into my arms and cooing, “Aw, how about you spend some time with Aunty Destiny so your parents can have some alone time?” Tallila’s wail was cut off, the baby snuggling into my warm skin, and Cain gave me a grateful look, asking, “Are you sure, Des?” Tapping Tallila’s tiny, perfect nose, I murmured, “Of course. She’s cute, and I won’t be doing much sleeping anyway, might as well be productive while I do it.”

Warmth flooded the connection, Seth’s expression blank, my Connected watching me hold Tallila in my arms, rocking her gently.

‘That will be you holding our daughter one day,’ he said with awe, love filling his eyes, making them soft.

‘It will be,’ I replied quietly, looking down at Tallila’s face. Would our daughter be this cute?

Could anyone be as cute as Tallila Maladur-Kentin?

By the time I lifted my eyes from her perfect face, Cain and Adelia were gone, their door closed and locked. Thankfully, it was also warded, preventing me from hearing them make the next cute little Maladur-Kentin Heir, since I had no doubts that’s what they were currently doing.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs Cain had set up in here, I propped my feet up on a pink and grey ottoman, Seth settling in next to me, summoning a book to him, leaning his back against the side of my chair, beginning to read.

“You’re staying?”

“Of course,” he murmured absentmindedly, “You’re my Connected.”

“Con- con-” Tallila babbled, my eyebrows shooting into my hairline. Was she trying to say- “Connected!” Tallila said excitedly, repeating it over and over, my shout for Cain enough that my cousin barelled through the door, shirtless and with his pants barely buttoned up, his hair already a mess as he gasped, “What’s wrong?” Hell, were they midway through making another Heir so damned quickly?

Holding his daughter up, I murmured, “Say what you just said, Tallila.”

“Con- Connected!” Her voice was the sweetest thing I had ever heard, a melody dipped in honey and sugar. Spinning her to face me, her light blue eyes glazing over my face, unfocused, I demanded, “How the Hell?! You’re like two days old!” She giggled like she meant it, but how could she?

“You were three days old when you said your first word,” Cain said quietly, his shoulders heaving with adrenaline, scooping Tallila from my arms, pressing a kiss to her soft hair, Seth teasing me, “Late bloomer, huh?” Snapping my teeth playfully at him, I lifted my head to Cain and asked, “What is she, a prodigy? What kind of baby speaks at two days old?”

“A Demonic-being baby. Des, think back to how smart you were as a toddler. Look, I’m going to go back to my wife, who is waiting for me. Are you going to take Tallila back?”

“Is she going to read me a bedtime story?” He watched me blankly, bored of my sass, and with a roll of my eyes, I sighed, “Yes, I will take the child genius back. She’ll be outdoing me in smarts by the end of the night, but sure. Enjoy your minute, Cain, it goes fast!” He flipped me off as he left, although I heard the echo of a laugh down the hall, just before his door closed again. Closing his book, Seth asked, “Is our daughter going to be that smart?”

“Hm… You are her father, so she’ll have a difficult start, but I’m sure she will-”

“Asshole,” he mocked, pressing a kiss to my palm, licking the tip of one of my fingers, desire lancing through me. In my arms, Tallila repeated in that honey-sweet voice of hers, “Asshole.” Clicking my tongue, I pinched the bridge of my nose, hiding a smile while my Connected paled, stammering, “No, we don’t say that word, Tallila! That’s a grown-up word!”

“Asshole!” She clapped her hands together, looking at Seth whenever she spoke the word, making me snicker, “Of course that’s the one word that takes. You can explain to Cain and Adelia who taught their precious Angel that word.”

“She hasn’t learnt that word, she’s just repeating it right now because it was the last one we said that she noticed! If we say something else-”

Tallila let out a small sneeze, before declaring, “Asshole Connected!”

“Aw look, she’s describing you, Seth!” I cackled gleefully, the baby giggling along with me, Seth dropping his head into his hands and groaning loudly.

“What are you going to call Grandma Lilith?” I asked the little baby, who laughed. Pressing my forehead to hers, I cooed, “She’s a bitch, isn’t she, little Tallila? Grandma Lilith is a bitch.”

“Destiny! Don’t teach her those words!” Seth admonished, although Tallila didn’t repeat any of them, to my eternal disappointment.

“Hell below, Seth, she’s got Merry, Emmett, Cain, my Guardians, me and you as her family. She’s going to know those words before she knows her own name. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Des- Des-” She stammered, struggling to pronounce the rest of my name. Grinning, I held Tallila up, the baby instead spitting out, “Seth!”

“Rude,” I muttered at the same time Seth beamed, preening, “She said my name first.”

“Because you’re the first idiot to look her in the eyes,” I said sullenly.

“Idiot,” she said, looking me dead in the eyes.

“No- Oh for Hell’s sake… Seth is the idiot, not me. Don’t worry, you’ll understand that after about six months around him. It takes time for people to realise there’s nothing going on behind those pretty blue eyes.”

“Why are you insulting me tonight?” Seth questioned curiously, an amused gleam in his eyes, before raising an eyebrow, asking, “Wait, this isn’t about what happened with Karla earlier, is it?” Pausing, I studied him. Was it wise to admit what was running through my head right now? The recent events had thrown me off-balance, the sense of stability that had slowly been growing now torn away, leaving me feeling vulnerable.

Vulnerability made me scared, and when I was scared… “You defended her over me. I’m mad.”

“The things you said were horrible!” He stated, Tallila laughing at the two of us.

“She said awful things first!”

“You didn’t have to retaliate. Be the bigger person-”

“Be the bigger man and damned defend me, Seth!” He rolled those pretty eyes at me, sniping sarcastically, “And suddenly the Princess of Hell needs defending? Apologies, I thought you were strong enough to take care of yourself, since you’re so much stronger and better than weak, little, old me!”

“Screw you!” I snapped, handing Tallila to him and storming for the door, my Connected remaining where he was, Tallila parroting, “Screw you!”

I didn’t have the nerve to flip either of them off, not when Tallila was clearly smart enough to copy me. Explaining to Cain that his darling daughter had overheard us arguing would be better than explaining she also knew how to give people the bird now, the door slamming shut to the nursery.

To my horror, Merry was in the hallway, his hand midway through knocking on Seth and I’s bedroom door. He turned to face me, looking to the door I had just slammed, before asking, “Do I have to punch his head in for you?” Hell, he was the best brother-in-law!

“Please do!” I snapped, striding past him, my power wrapping a uniform around me, a weapon appearing on my back. I needed to go for a walk, and since the Palace grounds needed guarding for when Lilith rocked up, that seemed the perfect place to go, Merry already heading toward the nursery to tear Seth a new asshole.

I made it to the bottom of the stairs before my Connected grumbled into my mind, ‘You set my brother on me?’ Smiling in satisfaction, knowing Merry must have given Seth a run for his money, I shoved the doors open and exited into the garden, sweetly suggesting, ‘If he thinks you’re being an ass, then maybe you are being one,’

‘Sure, but that’s a low blow. Merry is scary when he’s mad and you know it.’

‘Hence why I set him on you. Hopefully you will come to your senses.’

The night sky was quiet above me, the garden equally silent, not a Guard to be seen. With the wards Cain had carved into every inch of the place, there was little need for them, although I knew he would be putting on a show tomorrow morning, demonstrating to his mother that we didn’t take things lightly, especially not visits from enemy Queens.

Taking a seat on a bench underneath a cherry blossom tree, the petals rustling in the wind, I laid down, tucking my arms behind my head and staring up through the branches.

In nine hours, Lilith would be here to meet her granddaughter…