Page 47 of She Who Holds My Wrath

“Careful,” I murmur. “I can still set you on fire.”

“Promises, promises.” He grins, waving his hand about dramatically. What an ass.

Velentha clears her throat before Maelkar can make it worse. “We’ve gathered just to give you some updates. Things have progressed since you… fell ill.”

“Since she fell into a coma,” Lucifer corrects with a shit-eating grin. “The girl needed a hard reboot. Again.”

I shoot him a look, but motion for Velentha to continue. “Sovarith sent word this morning,” she begins, and I instantly straighten. “They’ve begun rebuilding the northern quarter in the Spires. In fact, it’s almost complete. The people wanted to extend their gratitude for the girl you sent.”

I smile softly. “Lyvia?”

“Yes,” Velentha says, her eyes warm and comforting. “She’s been extraordinary. Sovarith calls her ‘the light.’ Apparently, she’s been so helpful that they’re questioning why she wasn’t already a counsellor. She’s working her way up the ranks very quickly.”

A small, stunned laugh escapes me. “She deserves it. All of it. She never should’ve been a maid.” Finally, something stirs in my chest that isn’t grief—it’s pride. A feeling of accomplishment. That for once, I’ve done something right as queen.

Velentha smiles faintly. “Sovarith also said the people there are speaking your name with adoration now. They say they you are not just their queen; you’re a woman of the people. Hell’s redemption.”

My throat tightens and I blink fast. “They… they actually said that?”

“They did.”

Lucifer twirls his goblet lazily before tilting it towards me. “You’re making headlines, sugar. Turns out being a soft touch in a realm so known for being ruthless, earns adoration. Who knew?” I roll my eyes but can’t stop the smile spreading across my face.

Velentha continues, “The Realm of Children is thriving under Vailith’s guidance, now that she has helping hands. The little ones are flourishing.” She rustles through some papers before looking back at me. “And finally—the flamebeasts.”

Panic stirs instantly at the mention of the ancient creatures. “What about them?”

Lucifer smirks. “Apparently your pets have been gathering.”

Aran chuckles softly. “They’re not pets. They’re allies. The watchtowers spotted them above the southern ranges. Dozens, maybe more. They were flying in formation. Almost like… training.”

I blink, the panic seizing to the warmth taking over. Vesindiyah was true to her promise. They’re truly standing with us. My chest aches, but in a good way. It feels like sunshine after a storm. I picture the flamebeasts, their iridescent wings cutting through the dark, roaring defiance into the void. Before I can reply, the door bursts open. A messenger guard stumbles in, his face panicked as he leans over, panting. His eyes flick between us, landing on me before he drops to one knee.

“Your Majesty,” he gasps, “a scroll was delivered by a VeliNymph from Aurora’s Veil.”

My eyes dart to Aran instinctively. He doesn’t even hesitate to take the reigns as he rises from his chair. “Bring it to her.”

The guard steps forwards, trembling slightly as he holds out the scroll to me sealed in deep silver wax—Kaelith’s insignia. The crescent moon stamped in opalite shimmers. My fingers tremble as I break it open. The parchment smells faintly of pine and frost.

Aurora’s Veil has fallen under divine attack.

Requesting immediate audience with the Queen of Hell.

Kaelith.

I read it once. Then again. The words refuse to settle into meaning, sliding across my mind like oil on water. My fingers feel strangely numb as I pass the scroll to Aran, watching him dismiss the guard with a sharp flick of his hand before unrolling it again. He reads it aloud to the room, his voice steady even as the air tightens around us. Each word lands like a stone dropped into still water. When he finishes, the room seems to shrink inward, the walls pressing closer, the air turning thin and cold. No one speaks. Even the ever-present crackle of magical residue feels muted. The only sound I can distinctively make out is Lucifer’s fingers drumming against the side of his goblet, matching the pounding rhythm of my heart.

Aurora’s Veil. Kaelith. My stomach twists. Memories of teeth, claws, the slick stench of blood, the shrieks of that nightmarish creature as it tore me through the skies. The last time I was there, I nearly died.

I am not a fan of Kaelith. Understatement of the century, actually. He’s manipulative. A man who always seems to know more than he should, and says less than he means. A rake of a man who has no shame when it comes to trying to bed a woman. And now he wants me there. Personally.

The room around me fills with low murmurs as everyone starts speaking over one another, voices overlapping in a rising tide of speculation and alarm. It sounds distant, muffled, like I’m underwater while the world thrashes above the surface. Divine attack. Aurora’s Veil fallen. Immediate audience.

Something about it feels wrong. Too convenient. Too sudden. Suspicion prickles along the back of my neck. Why ask for me specifically, and not my army? This could be a trap. The thought hits me hard enough to make my anxiety spike even further. Or, it could be real. People could by dying. A ruler asking for aid—for me—isn’t something I can just ignore. Not when I’m supposed to be Queen. Not when every realm is teetering on the edge of collapse because of me. But despite that, the unease doesn’t fade. It coils tighter, whispering that something is off, that walking into Kaelith’s territory again might be the worst possible decision I could make. I shove the thought down immediately. Hard. I don’t have the luxury of paranoia. Because if this is real and I don’t go… what kind of queen would that make me?

My jaw tightens as I force myself to breathe through the rising panic, to steady the tremor creeping into my hands. I know what I have to do. Even if every instinct I have is screaming at me not to.

I steady my breathing and lift my head, my voice cutting through the noise before I can second-guess myself. “I need to go.”