Page 28 of Immortal Throne

I grabbed a chunk of hair and held it in front of my face. Even in the dark room, with only the nearby torches providing a soft glow of light, there was no mistaking the vibrant red of my hair. Far brighter and far redder than the mousy brown it had been moments ago. “What the fuck, Chupey?”

“Welcome to the Underworld,” he said.

I blinked and an awkward laugh bubbled out of my mouth. A change in hair color was the least of my concerns right now. I had to let it go for now and freak out about it later.

“I wouldn’t have made it without my faithful canine companion,” I said.

Chupey wagged his tail.

Were all Chupacabras like this or had he pretended to be my dog for too long that these things were becoming second nature for him?

Never mind. Like my hair, it was something that could wait. I had more important things to worry about now. Like figuring out where I was.

I turned and scanned my new surroundings, and well…damn.

The entire grand room was made out of black stone with a river of molten magma coursing through its center and nearly cutting the space in half. Walls made of shining black obsidian rose up so high, the ceiling remained hidden in the shadows above. Torchlight illuminated the carvings on the walls, the flickering fire making the images come to life and appear as though they moved. At the far side of the large room, a huge vacant throne waited.

My father’s throne.

This place stole my breath and my voice away.

“Come on.” Chupey whined to get my attention before taking a few steps forward. “It’s time to show you your new digs.”

New digs, sure.

I stifled my smile at the thought and followed Chupey.

“I thought Ryker said we’d have to pass over the Styx to get to the Underworld,” I said.

He shot me a doggy version of a shrug. “Maybe for amateurs. Not for you. We’ve traveled directly into the throne room.”

For a dog, or demon familiar, he seemed pretty pleased with this. Maybe I’d accomplished something big, but I barely managed to smile back at him, the effects of adrenaline already beginning to fade, threatening to leave me exhausted. “So, if my father was Lucifer, what will I be called when I take the throne?”

“Lucifer is just a title,” Chupey told me when we stepped farther into the cavernous space and toward the throne carved from black rock. Sheer spikes rose from the back with curved armrests. The entire piece was made up of one seamless stone with a wall of skulls rising up behind it in a macabre backdrop.

“It’s not a person, nor is the title gender specific,” Chupey continued. “So, you will also be Lucifer.”

My stomach twisted at the sight of that throne. The seat of Hell. Technically, it was my royal ass that was supposed to sit on it and here I stood, my jaw gaping open and my eyes wide.

My father had once sat there. He’d sat on this very throne, wheeling and dealing and doing whatever it was that a ruler of literal Hell did. “Shock” put it mildly. None of this felt real. I’d stepped into madness, or a parallel dimension where the impossible became very clearly possible.

“Like a monarch’s title,” I finally replied, addressing Chupey’s one-sided discussion on the title of Lucifer.

He nudged me again and I took one step, then another, toward that throne. My past and my present collided inside of me like a clash of fists.

“Exactly,” Chupey agreed. “Your fatherwasLucifer. And his father before him, down the line. So, you have a legitimate claim to be the next Lucifer.”

I shivered under the weight of those words.The next Lucifer. Was that something I actually wanted or just what was expected of me?

I swallowed the irritation.

It was this or death.

“Your claim is being challenged,” Chupey continued. His voice echoed strangely across the throne room, and I wondered if there was no one else around. “The trials start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I froze. “I thought I had two weeks.”

“Not anymore.”

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