Chapter Six
Daemon's POV
She'd finally fallen asleep in the cage.
I watched her from across the chamber, sprawled awkwardly on the stone floor because she refused to use the cushions I'd provided. Stubborn. Even in sleep, her jaw was set tight, her wings tucked close to her body like armor.
The chains clinked softly every time she breathed.
I should have felt satisfaction. Victory. I'd trapped an angel in Hell, bound her to my will, and already corrupted her enough to turn one strand of that perfect silver hair black.
Instead, I felt restless.
I stood, pacing to the edge of the room. With a flick of my wrist, I reinforced the spell I'd woven around the chamber. Invisible barriers that would hold even if she somehow managed to break the chains. I didn't trust her yet. Didn't trust that she wouldn't try something foolish the moment she thought I wasn't looking.
Angels were predictable that way. Always looking for the heroic play.
As I traced the final symbol in the air, an image flashed through my mind. Unbidden. Unwelcome.
Silver hair catching sunlight. Laughter that sounded like music. Her hand in mine as we walked through gardens that existed before Earth was even a thought.
I shook my head violently, banishing the memory. That was a thousand years ago. Another life. Another version of both of us that no longer existed.
She didn't remember. That was all that mattered.
I needed to get out of this chamber before I did something stupid.
The throne room was exactly as I'd left it. Obsidian floors polished to a mirror shine. Walls carved with scenes of the fall, my fall, captured in excruciating detail. And at the center, the throne itself. Black stone shot through with veins of red, like frozen blood.
Ronan was already waiting.
My second in command stood at the base of the throne, his expression carefully neutral. He was one of the few who'd fallen with me, who'd chosen my side when Heaven cast us down. Loyalty like that was rare. Valuable.
"My lord." He bowed his head. "We have a problem."
"When don't we have a problem?" I dropped into the throne, sprawling across it like the crown was a burden I'd grown tired of carrying. "What is it this time? Demons fighting over territory? Another soul trying to bargain their way out?"
"Neither." Ronan's jaw tightened. "Strange things are happening on Earth. The natural order is shifting. Weather patterns that make no sense. Animals behaving erratically. Humans reporting visions of light and darkness bleeding into each other."
I'd expected this. The moment I'd brought Angelina into Hell, I'd known there would be consequences. An angel's presence in the darkness was like dropping a stone in still water. Ripples spreading outward, disturbing everything.
"How bad?" I asked.
"Bad enough that Heaven's noticed. They're sending scouts. Trying to figure out what's causing the disturbances."
"Let them look." I examined my nails. "They won't find anything."
"With respect, my lord, they might." Ronan stepped closer. "The barriers between realms are thinning. If they push hard enough, if they search long enough, they'll trace it back here. And when they do—"
"When they do, they'll find out I have one of their own." I smiled. "And there's not a damn thing they can do about it."
Ronan went very still. "You have an angel here? In Hell?"
"Not just any angel." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Angelina."
The name hung in the air between us. Heavy with history.
Ronan's eyes widened. Actually widened. I'd seen him face down hordes of demons without flinching, negotiate with soul collectors who could freeze your blood with a look, but this? This shocked him.
"The same Angelina who—"
"Yes."
"The one who made you fall?"
"She didn't make me fall." The words came out sharper than I intended. "My fall was my choice. My rebellion. My consequence."
"But she was part of it."
"She was everything." The admission slipped out before I could stop it. I caught myself, reining it back in. "She was everything Heaven used against me. The perfect example of what I should have been. What I could never be."
Ronan watched me carefully. "And now you have her here. Chained. Corrupting."
"Exactly."
"That's dangerous, my lord."
"Everything worth doing is dangerous." I stood, descending the steps of the throne. "Besides, I want to see it. Want to watch her break piece by piece. Want to see that perfect goodness crumble into dust."
"And if she doesn't break?"
"She will." I had to believe that. Had to believe that everything I'd planned, everything I'd waited for, would work. "Everyone breaks eventually."
Ronan didn't look convinced, but he knew better than to argue further. Instead, he changed the subject.
"There's something else. Something that might interest you."
"Go on."
"Our scouts found traces of Veilstone. On Earth."
That got my attention. I turned to face him fully. "You're certain?"
"As certain as we can be without confirming it in person." He pulled out a map, spreading it across the floor. Points marked in red dotted the continents. "Three separate locations. All of them showing the same energy signature."
Veilstone. The one substance in all of creation that could tear down the barriers between realms. Heaven had used it during the creation of the universe, channeling its raw power to separate light from dark, life from death, order from chaos. Then they'd scattered it, hidden it, made sure no one could ever gather enough in one place to undo what they'd built.
But if I could find it, if I could collect enough of it, I could bring Heaven crashing down. Could remake everything according to my design.
Earth would be just the beginning.
"How much are we talking about?" I asked.
"Hard to say without seeing it. But if even one of those locations holds a significant amount..." Ronan looked up at me. "We could move forward with the plan."
The plan. Years in the making. Centuries of careful preparation, of planting seeds and nurturing relationships and waiting for the exact right moment.
"What about our human asset?" I asked. "Is he ready?"
"King Marcus is eager to proceed. His kingdom is struggling. Famine. Disease. His people are turning against him." Ronan traced a line on the map. "He's desperate enough to make good on his end of the bargain."
King Marcus. A pathetic little ruler of a pathetic little kingdom who'd sold his soul for the promise of power. He didn't know the full extent of what I planned. Didn't know that the chaos I was about to unleash would consume everything, including him.
But he did know I'd promised to spare his kingdom when the time came. And he believed me.
Humans were so wonderfully naive.
"I'll visit him myself," I said. "Make sure he understands what's at stake. Make sure he knows what happens if he fails."
"When, my lord?"
"Soon." I rolled up the map. "First, I need to make arrangements here. Can't have our angelic guest causing problems while I'm away."
Ronan hesitated. "Are you sure keeping her is wise? The disturbances on Earth, Heaven's attention, the risk of them discovering what we're planning—"
"I'm sure." I cut him off. "Angelina stays. She's too valuable to let go now."
"Valuable how?"
Because she's the key to everything. Because having her here, corrupting her, breaking her, is part of a revenge I've been planning since the moment I fell. Because if I can turn Heaven's most perfect angel into something dark, something mine, it will hurt them more than any army ever could.
"That's my concern," I said instead. "Not yours."
Ronan bowed his head. "Of course, my lord. I'll make preparations for your visit to King Marcus."
"Good. And Ronan?" I waited until he looked up. "Increase security around the chamber where Angelina is being held. Double the guards. Triple the spells. I don't want anyone going near her without my explicit permission."
"You think someone might try to free her?"
"I think someone might try to kill her." I smiled coldly. "And I need her alive. At least for now."
Ronan left, his footsteps echoing through the throne room.
I stayed, staring at the map still clutched in my hand. Three locations. Three chances to find enough Veilstone to bring my plan to fruition.
And an angel sleeping in my chambers, unaware that she was about to become the centerpiece of the greatest act of rebellion since the fall itself.