Page 57 of Witch Queen

Ilmon squinted. Astarte’s lips twitched.

Hellreaver’s gaze dropped. “Whoa. Now that bosom right there is as mighty as they—hmmm!Hmmm!”

Mae had muzzled him. “Have you got a death wish?!”

Astarte tensed. Ilmon’s eyes flared. Armaros twitched. Vannog blinked and raised his head.

Their gazes swung as one to the north.

Mae’s scalp prickled as she followed their line of sight. She could feel something approaching. A formidable presence that carried an eerily familiar echo of demonic energy.

“What’s wrong?” Nikolai asked guardedly.

“I…don’t know.”

Na Ri stirred.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Armaros put his hands on his hips, his expression pleased. “Nowthisis cause for celebration.”

“Yes.” A fierce light brightened Astarte’s face. “He’s finally back.”

“Who’s back?” Cortes said, confused.

Vlad frowned and pointed. “What is that?”

A spot had appeared high above the mountains. It grew rapidly and soon split to form two figures. One was Alicia.

The other was a demon with long, curved horns.

“Someone whose return we have long awaited,” Ilmon said softly.

The hairs lifted on the back of Mae’s neck. She sensed the newcomer’s gaze on her even though she could still not make out his face.

But she didn’t have to.

She knew this power. Power that was making her cores tremble and Na Ri quake with joy inside her.

She had felt it once before, standing inside a nexus in Prague.

“Azazel?!” she mumbled.

Nikolai shot her a stunned glance.

Magic surged across the city, rattling the windows of the palace. The air sparkled with crimson flashes that reflected the happiness of the demon who was drawing near. He landed lightly in the courtyard ahead of Alicia, his beautiful eyes on Mae.

“Master,” Brimstone and Hellreaver mumbled.

The Third Leader of the Grigori and the fallen angel who once wielded the strongest magic in Heaven smiled at them fondly before gazing at Mae. He opened his arms.

“My daughters.”

Mae sobbed and rushed into his hold. Azazel closed his arms around her and shuddered, his embrace warm and strong.

I am home, father, Na Ri whispered brokenly.

The demon’s heartbeat thrummed steadily in Mae’s ears, a soothing sound that calmed her raw nerves. She might not have been born physically of him but there was no doubt in her heart.

Azazel was as much a father to her as her human one had been.

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