Argenta didn't just brush my hair; she attacked it. She stood behind me with a heavy comb made of bone, yanking through the knots I'd gathered from days of riding through the dust.
"Ow! Careful," I hissed, flinching as she hit a particularly nasty snag near my neck.
"Stop moving," Argenta snapped. "You have hair like a mountain lion that's been living in a briar patch. If you want to look like a Queen, you have to suffer for it. If you want to look like a peasant, stay in the bath."
I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't recognize the girl staring back. My skin was flushed pink from the heat of the water. My eyes…a weird, pale violet color…seemed to glow under the orange light of the room. And my hair... once Argenta got the mud out, it looked like liquid moonlight. It was long, falling all the way down to my waist.
"It's too much," I whispered, touching a strand. "I look like a doll."
Argenta stopped combing. She grabbed my chin with her cold, grey fingers and forced me to look at her in the glass. "That's your problem, isn't it? You think you're a broken doll.Quit your victim mentality please! You think because those assholes in the sky cut your back and treated you like a mistake, that's all you are."
"I am a mistake," I said, my voice shaking. "I'm an angel with no wings and black blood, Argenta. I'm a freak."
"Bullshit," Argenta said. She didn't say it meanly; she said it like she was stating a fact about the weather. "You're in the Underworld now. We don't have 'freaks' here. We have survivors. Look at your eyes. They're beautiful. Look at your hair. It's a weapon. But if you go into that court with your shoulders hunched and your lip trembling, they'll eat you alive. Demons smell fear like dogs smell meat."
She pulled a garment from the bed. It was white, which made me flinch..white was the color of the Sky Kingdom. It was the color of "purity" and all the lies my father told. But as she shook it out, I saw it wasn't normal silk. It shimmered with a dark, oily light.
"White?" I asked, skeptical.
"Liquid shadow," Argenta said. "It looks like the light, but it feels like the dark. It's a middle finger to your father. Now, get in it. And woman up, Celeste. Your husband is half-devil and he's currently in a room with
men who want his crown. Don't make him regret bringing you."
The dress was a nightmare to get into. It felt like cold water sliding over my skin. It was tight in the waist and flowed out like a cloud around my feet. It was sleeveless, leaving the scars on my back completely exposed.
"Everyone will see," I said, reaching back to try and cover myself.
"Good," Argenta said, slapping my hand away. "Let them see. Let them see that the Sky Kingdom tried to break you and failed. Now, stand up straight. No more sad little bird act."
She led me out of the room. My feet were bare on the obsidian floors, which were surprisingly warm. The palace was a maze of black glass and flickering orange torches. Every time I passed a guard, they stopped and hit their spears against the floor. It made me jump every single time.
"Stop jumping," Argenta whispered. "Act like you expected them to do it."
"I didn't expect them to do it!" I whispered back. "I expect them to stab me!"
We reached a set of massive iron doors. They weren't like the pretty, carved doors of the Sky Palace. These were thick, scarred, and smelled like old blood and cold iron. I could hear voices inside…loud, deep voices that sounded like stones grinding together.
"The Court of Shadows," Argenta said. She stepped back and gave me a look that was almost a smile. "Don't trip on your dress. And for fuck's sake, don't apologize for existing."
The doors groaned open.
The heat hit me first. It was like walking into an oven. The room was huge, shaped like a circle with a pit in the center. Sitting on high stone benches were the Demon Lords. They were terrifying. Some had wings like bats, some had skin like cracked lava, and all of them were looking at me like I was a dessert they hadn't ordered.
In the center of the room stood Athan.
He had changed. He wasn't covered in blood anymore. He wore black armor that looked like it had been forged from the night sky itself. His gold eyes found mine immediately. For a second, he just looked at me. He didn't move. He didn't speak. But his gaze felt like a physical weight on my skin.
I walked down the stairs. My heart was thumping so hard I thought it would burst through the white silk.
"So," a voice boomed from the benches. A massive demon with four horns and a scar across his throat leaned forward. "This is the prize? A wingless scrap from the clouds? She looks like she'd break if I sneezed on her."
Laughter erupted. It was a harsh, ugly sound.
"She's tiny," another one shouted. "Athan, did you run out of real women? You brought home a pet."
I felt my face go hot. My first instinct was to look at my feet. To apologize. To hide. I'm a mistake. I'm a mess.
But then I remembered Argenta's voice. Don't apologize for existing.
I didn't look down. I looked at the four-horned demon. I didn't say anything, but I didn't blink either. I felt a tiny spark of that black hunger in my blood. I wanted to see him fly across the room like the rebel had.
The laughing died down as I reached Athan. I stood next to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body. He was so much taller than me. I felt like a sapling standing next to an ancient oak tree.
"She is an angel," the four-horned demon sneered. "She doesn't belong here. She smells like the sky. It's disgusting."
Athan didn't look at the demon. He looked at me. He reached out and placed a hand on the small of my back, right over the silver lightning scars. His palm was burning hot.
"She is my wife," Athan said. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a blade. "And she is your Queen."
"She's a bird with no wings!" the demon shouted, standing up. "I won't bow to a piece of trash that the Sky King threw away like garbage."
The room went deathly quiet. I felt Athan's hand leave my back.
He didn't yell. He didn't argue. He just moved.
In a blur of black steel, Athan was across the floor. He didn't draw his sword, not fully. He just gripped the hilt and slammed the pommel into the demon's gut. The sound was like a hammer hitting a side of beef. The massive demon collapsed, gasping for air.
Athan grabbed him by the throat and slammed his head against the stone floor. Crack.
"You seem to have forgotten how this works, Malphas," Athan whispered. He leaned down, his face inches from the demon's. "I didn't ask for your opinion on my wife. I told you who she is."
He looked around the room. His eyes were no longer gold; they were glowing like molten suns.
"Does anyone else have something to say about her wings?" Athan asked.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
"On the floor," Athan commanded.
Slowly, one by one, the powerful Demon Lords of the Underworld got off their benches. They knelt. They pressed their foreheads against the black stone. Even the one Athan had just smashed was forced down, groaning in pain.
I stood there, alone in the center of the circle, watching the most dangerous creatures in existence bow to me. It felt wrong. It felt insane. I wanted to tell them to get up. I felt like an imposter wearing a dress that was too expensive for her.
But then I looked at Athan. He was standing over the fallen demon, his hand still on his sword. He looked at me, and for the first time, he gave me a tiny, almost invisible nod.
Own it, his eyes said.
I took a deep breath. I straightened my shoulders. I felt the liquid shadow of my dress ripple around my legs.
"Get up," I said.
My voice was small, but it didn't shake.
The demons looked up, surprised.
"I don't want you on the floor because you're afraid of him," I said, gesturing to Athan. "I want you to look at me. Look at my back. Look at my blood."
I held out my hand. I thought about the desert. I thought about the fire. I let that tiny flicker of shadow under my skin rise up. A small wisp of black smoke curled around my fingers, dancing like a snake.
The demons gasped. Malphas, the one on the floor, narrowed his eyes.
"I am not an angel," I said, my voice getting stronger. "And I am not a pet. If you want to find out what I am, keep talking."
Athan let out a low, dark chuckle. He walked back to me and stood so close I could feel his armor pressing against my shoulder.
"You heard her," Athan said. "The Queen has spoken. Now, bring in the messenger. I wanted him to see exactly what he's trying to take back."
The doors at the far end of the hall opened. Captain Jace walked in, flanked by two demon guards. He looked ridiculous in his gold-plated armor and blue cape. He looked like a toy. He was staring at the floor, but when he looked up and saw me..standing there in white shadow, next to the King of the Underworld, with black smoke curling off my fingers…his jaw literally dropped.
"Celeste?" he stammered. "What... what have they done to you?"
"They didn't do anything, Jace," I said, and a mean little smile touched my lips. "They just let me out of the cage."
I felt Athan's hand slide around my waist. He pulled me against him, a clear sign to everyone in the room that I wasn't going anywhere.
"Tell the Sky King his deal is dead," Athan said to Jace. "And if he sends another messenger, I'll send him back in a box. Piece by piece."
Jace looked like he was going to faint. I looked at Athan. He was looking at Jace with pure hatred, but his grip on my waist was surprisingly gentle.
He's actually kind of hot when he's threatening to dismember people, I thought.
Then I immediately wanted to punch myself for thinking it. Get it together, Celeste. He's a monster. You're a witch. This is a mess.
But as Jace turned and ran out of the room, I knew one thing for sure.
The Sky Kingdom was never getting me back.