I roll my eyes and head back into my room. I move the dresser as quietly as I can in front of the door. I'm not stupid enough to think that it'll stop a Demon trying to come in, but it makes me feel a little better.
Exhaustion pulls on me as I settle onto the bed next to Rebel who is still fast asleep. There might be thirteen years between us, and I might have resented having so much responsibility when it came to her before, but now I know I'm probably going to miss out on watching her grow up, my heart hurts, and I'm grateful to have this little chunk of time with her, even if she is still trapped here. I close my eyes and try to shut out the racing thoughts and get some sleep before whatever tomorrow brings.
“You can give me my powers back?” I ask skeptically as Azriel grins at me. He invited us down for breakfast in his private quarters, and we've all eaten in silence, until he dropped that little bomb on me.
“Well, I can gift you power,” he says, smirking as he leans back in his chair. “It won't be the same power you're used to, it will be more. But I'll give you a little at a time. You're going to have to earn it, and my trust. Can’t have my newest plaything using that power against me now can we?” He winks, and I force myself to smile at him. Of course there's a catch, he's a Demon.
“And how, exactly would you like me to prove myself?” I ask him, trying to keep the rage from my face.
“Well, I think that's best discussed when small ears aren't at the table, don't you?” I swallow the bile that rises at his words. There isn't a chance in hell I'll do that for him, not for all the power in the world.
“If you say so,” I say back, not wanting to let him know he got to me, though Deacon balks at me. Well tough shit, he doesn't get to judge, especially when he has no idea who I really am. A plan starts to form in my mind, but I keep the glee from my face. These Demons might just have bitten off more than they can chew. Especially if Remy is on her way here. I intend to have enough power by the time she gets here to turn these assholes to nothing more than dust.
I pop a mini bread bite with salmon and cream cheese in my mouth, groaning as I chew. These guys might be assholes, but the food here is fucking divine. Rebel is oblivious to it all as she tucks into her pancake stack, and I'm glad that the resilience of her youth is benefitting her right now. I'm almost envious.
I sit quietly, pretending not to be interested as Azriel discusses his next steps with Deacon, who's eyes keep darting to me, trying to assess what game I'm playing, but I shrug when I catch him staring. I'm going to be the best prisoner they ever had, and then I'm going to be the worst nightmare they never could have imagined. I'll raze this entire fucking realm if that's what it takes.
I try not to think about home too much. Thinking of Mama, Colt, it makes my heart fracture a little more each time my thoughts drift to them, about everything back home. Everything I might never see again if everything doesn't go my way. If Remy never makes it here, which is a possibility I've yet to accept.
“Yes, I think that's an adequate move,” Azriel says, pulling my focus back to the table. “Fallon, you should say goodbye to your sister. Deacon’s touching plea on your behalf won me over. What can I say, I'm in a good mood. He'll be delivering her back to the mortal realm after breakfast.” He smiles at me and my eyes dart to my sister before meeting Deacon's. If he hurts her, I'll make sure he dies slowly.
“I appreciate it. You have my gratitude,” I say, I might have sold my soul, but I'll still never say thank you, not down here. I've sold my soul, not my mind. I'm not stupid enough to give myself over fully.
“I'll let you all finish up, I have some matters that require my attention. Come and find me once they leave,” he says to me with a wink before disappearing from