Page 122 of Grave Revelations

Azazel had used the last dregs of magic to revive himself one last time. There would be no more chances.

He moved into the throne room, spying four vacant thrones, each representing a different element. He strode past them, sparing a thought for his two other fallen brethren. Where were they?

He stopped, staring up at an expansive charcoal wall. Where the portal had been from the dawn of Primoria’s creation, nothing but cold stone barred his path now.

Turning, he closed his eyes, searching for that pull, the one that always told him where the King of Hell was. It was faint across realms but not muted as it should have been. They weren’t a united plane, as he’d thought before. Primoria was fading away. Without magic—without its ruler—it would eventually crumble into nothing.

The end times were no longer coming. They were here.

He became dust, moving through cave walls and empty spaces until he reached Behemoth’s room. The ancient beast, separated from his Leviathan so many centuries ago, was gone, his shackles tossed aside.

Where his divining room once existed, a gaping hole stretched up—all the way to the mortal plane. Azazel spared one moment of prayer for Behemoth and his Leviathan. At the end of the world, he hoped those two would finally be reunited. The creature’s only crime had been to love a monster—weren’t they all monsters in some way?

Azazel spread his wings, shooting up through the chasm cleaved through planes by Dina’s sacrifice, and pain sliced through him.

His chest spasmed as he neared the surface. Rebecca was injured, and it was no small thing. Her agony ripped through him again, and he stuttered mid-flight, dipping before he righted himself, stretching his wings. He beat them harder, breaching the surface of the mortal plane, and shot into the sky, hovering over the estate.

There.Rebecca’s soul pulsed inside the house.

He dove for it, flying through the gaping hole they’d made just a few hours before when they’d fought Samael together. She had been so brave, so strong.

He followed her soul’s call for help down the stairs into her father’s dark lair and tackled Samael to the floor.

They tumbled into the wall, and he called roots from deep beneath the ground, wrapping them around the Fallen.

Samael’s form burst into scarlet flame, burning the vines away.

“Az!” Rebecca cried. He looked up, meeting her eyes.

Azazel snarled as scorching heat exploded in his right wing. Samael raised a flaming hand, firing again. He cursed, pressing back into the wall.

Rebecca wriggled in her bonds, a line of crimson dribbling down her chin, painting her lips. It ran down her neck, pooling atop the dais at the center of theroom and spilling into a silver bowl beneath it.

Don’t move, Light. I’m coming.

She tossed her head back, bucking in her restraints, a cry falling from her lips.

He jerked as it speared into him, and Samael used this distraction to his advantage, wrapping flaming claws around his neck.

“Azazel!” she cried as she fought her restraints and more of her precious life spilled over the table.

Samael’s talons bit into Azazel’s skin, sending pain radiating through him and numbing his limbs as it settled into muscle.

Azazel’s nails lengthened into sharp claws, and he dug into the hands spearing his neck.

Samael’s gleeful smile was frightening as he pressed closer. “I wonder if you’ll be able to regenerate a head,” he said against Azazel’s shoulder as tendons snapped and tore, flesh melting away under searing heat.

Azazel released Samael’s hands, calling the earth up as he pulled dirt and debris over the Fallen’s arms, but he was unrelenting as he sank burning, poisoned talons deeper into Azazel’s neck.

I love you.

The words in his mind shifted his focus from his brother’s savage grin to the woman on the table. Rebecca’s legs were still bound tightly, but her arms were loose, and the lance was gripped in her palms. She lifted it above her head.

No, Light. No!

He wants to use my body to bring her back,Rebecca thought.I can’t let him. Use the distraction. Get the lance and kill him.

He pressed sharp nails harder into the hands, digging into his neck, trying to free himself, trying to reach her.

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