Page 14 of The Road to Hell

Without another glance back, I led Rathiel out into the hallway and walked away from every possession I owned. I had the important stuff, I told myself. Purrgatory, Vol, Rathiel…but that didn’t soothe the ache in my chest right now.

If we survived this trip to Hell, maybe we’d find a new home someday. If not…well, Hell was always looking for new residents.

With that cheery thought, I squared my shoulders and led the way outside.

* * *

RATHIEL

Night blanketed the Alberta Legislature Grounds, the crunch of snow beneath our boots the only sound in the still air. The cold bit deep, needling through layers of clothing and skin. I’d never known a cold like this before stepping foot on Earth. Hell was constant heat—suffocating, blistering, all-consuming. There was no reprieve from it, no icy wind to remind you that you were alive. And yet, as much as I craved the warmth of Hell in this bitter night, I didn’t miss the inferno.

I adjusted the duffel slung over my shoulder and followed Lily, her pack bouncing with the cat carrier strapped to it. From inside, Purrgatory let out a low, grumpy growl, the sound tugging a faint smile to my lips. The absurdity of dragging a cat into Hell hadn’t escaped me, but Lily had been adamant.

I hadn’t bothered arguing. Not because I thought it was a good idea—but because I knew arguing would do no good. Lily wasn’t the kind of person who left anything she cared about behind. Purrgatory wasn’t just a pet. He was a tether to the life she’d built here. A piece of something she wasn’t willing to lose.

I could understand that, seeing as how Lily was that for me.

She had changed in our time apart—softer in some ways, no longer living a life forged solely from pain and fury. But she was still a soldier, still held herself like a warrior.

Before all this, she’d been living a quiet, human life. Now she was gearing up for war.

My grip tightened on the duffel as I considered all we’d been through. It was hard to believe it’d been little more than a week since I’d dragged myself through the gate, bloody and broken. It’d taken all my power just to keep it open while I fell through. But I remembered the cold hitting me like a fist, and the sensory overload after ten years of torment in Lucifer’s dungeon.

I’d barely escaped in one piece. But I hadn’t cared. All that’d mattered was finding Lily.

But first, I’d needed strength. A few semi-willing blood donors later, I’d replenished myself enough to track her down. And I had—easily. Maybe too easily. The moment I’d caught her scent—faint traces of divinity wrapped in something definingly Lily—I’d found her.

But the relief hadn’t lasted.

I’d found her in some sort of food establishment, sitting across from a human. Her hair had shimmered under the lighting, her laughter soft as she’d smiled at whatever inane thing he’d said. The sound should have soothed me. Instead, it’d felt like a blade to the chest.

This whole time, she’d been alive. Whole. Every bit the angel I’d sacrificed myself to save, the one I’d betrayed Lucifer for. And yet, in that moment, she’d felt more distant to me than she had during the ten years we’d spent separated.

I’d stood frozen, rooted to the spot, until the human noticed me. He’d said something. She’d turned to look.

And our eyes had met.

For one stupid, fragile moment, I’d hoped. Hoped something deep inside her might stir. That the memories I’d stolen might still resonate within her. That she’d see me…and simply remember.

But then her expression had shifted.

Not with recognition. Not relief.

Confusion. Caution. A spark of anger.

I’d seen her angry many times before. But this had been colder. Detached. Pure loathing directed solely at me.

And that was when it’d really hit me.

She hadn’t recognized me. Not the way I’d wanted her to. Not as the man she’d once loved. Right then, I’d been no one to her. Just another remnant of her past. Just Lucifer’s lackey.

That moment had hurt. More than Lucifer’s barbed chains flaying me alive, more than the hooks of molten iron ripping through my muscle and flesh. Those I could endure—hell,hadendured.

But they hadn’t broken me, because I wouldn’t let them. Because Lily had needed me.

I only wished she’d needed me as much.

I forced the memories down, locking them away where they belonged. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t change anything.

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