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Authors: JJ Black

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past, not rewriting it. That didn’t mean he couldn’t at least try to get justice for them, now.

Better late, than never.

“Your father did all this?” Gray already knew the answer, but he wanted to see what

Opal had to say. He needed to know how deep her involvement ran before he acted.

“Of course,” she sneered. “Lucifer made a mistake when he took the crown. Rule of the

Underworld was never meant to be his. It was a position well above his station.” Opal’s lips

rose in a mockery of a smile. “Lucifer needed to learn a lesson. He took something that was

important to my father. My father just returned the favour.”

“And where is your father these days?”

Opal’s smile faltered as an expression akin to sorrow darkened her face. “Father died

six months ago. My deepest regret is that he never got to see his dream come to fruition. No

matter,” she said with a shake of her head. “His dream is alive in me and I won’t rest until I

see it to completion.” Her expression was fierce, leaving Gray fighting the urge to take a

discreet step back.

“Lucifer’s dead. Doesn’t that mean you’ve already completed Vlasik’s wish?”

Opal grinned. “Lucifer’s death was just a stepping stone—a bonus. My sights are set

much higher than that. All the way to the top.”

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Gray eyed Opal cautiously. “Queen of the Underworld?”

“It’s what father would have wanted,” Opal replied with a shrug.

Gray didn’t think that Vlasik Lazarios had given one second of thought to the

possibility of his daughter taking the throne. From what Gray had seen of the man in his

vision, the only person he had any concern for was himself. He stayed silent. Let Opal keep

her illusions if they made her feel better about what she had done to get where she was. They

wouldn’t do her a bit of good in the long run.

“Well, it sounds like you’ve got everything figured out. What do you need me for?”

Opal tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I’m in need of a little…guidance.” Sighing at

Gray’s raised brow, she narrowed her eyes, irritation practically oozing from her pores. “You

know as well as I do that we aren’t able to use our abilities to see our own futures. Even

events with a loose connection are fuzzy at best. I need your skills to help me set my course.

Everything has to be perfect! Killing Lucifer was just the first step. To get to the throne, there

are many more that will have to be removed from my path. There are others who will try to

take what’s mine and you are going to help me make sure that doesn’t happen. I will gain

control of the Underworld and you’re going to help me. Understand?”

Great. They were back to the whole imprisoning the Oracle thing again. What was the

deal with these Demons? “If I agree to help you, will you let Balen go?” Gray knew Balen

wasn’t going to be happy with the question, but Gray had to do anything he could to take of

the man who had helped to keep him safe.

Opal’s gaze flicked to Balen for a moment before focusing back in on Gray.

“Unfortunately, that’s not going to be possible. Balen is the son of Lord Lucifer. I won’t have

him haunting my steps, waiting for the time to take my throne. No,” she said, smiling

malevolently. “He will be the first to go.”

Gray stayed silent as Opal turned and stormed around the room, cursing and

mumbling to herself. With a wary eye, he looked on as she flailed her arms, knocking over a

lamp and sending a decanter crashing to the floor. Her actions and appearance further

proved that her black magic use had already started to eat away at her. Because of black

magic’s destructive nature, it would eventually start to cannibalize the user’s mind, literally

driving them crazy. Despite the woman’s total loss of sanity, Gray had to admit that her plan

was solid. If he were set on world domination, having an Oracle in his back pocket would be

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a smart choice. What better way to ensure that you get the outcome you want, then to have

someone by your side, directing your steps and leading you straight for the path of success?

His fear was what would be in store for the rest of the world once Opal got the power and

position she sought?

Balen had been suspiciously quiet during Gray and Opal’s interaction. After what they

had seen in his vision, Gray was becoming concerned. Flicking a glance over his shoulder,

Gray found the other man standing stock still, his face a cold mask of fury. A flicker of

movement had Gray’s eyes zero in on Balen’s hands. Small sparks were flaring across his

fingertips. The pulsing wave of hellfire grew stronger with every pass. He found himself

fighting the instinctive urge to take a step back, desperate to distance himself from the

impending storm that was sure to accompany that kind of anger. Unfortunately, the

reminder of Povell’s presence at his back forced him to keep his feet firmly planted where he

was. Opal had obviously been too wrapped up in her plotting to notice the silent rage

building in the other man. She had made the mistake of assuming the collars would be

enough to hold them indefinitely. Opal would have been smarter if she had just killed them

both out right. Now it was too late. Her time had run out, and she didn’t even know it.

“Bitch.”

The word was spoken so quietly, Gray thought he’d imagined it.

“Fucking bitch!”

No ignoring that
. Balen was on the move. His fingers sparked one last time, before

hellfire erupted from his hands. With his arms and hands completely encased in blue flame

and fury burning in his eyes, the blond Demon made a move towards Opal. Unfortunately,

stealth didn’t seem to be part of his attack plan. Balen didn’t make it more than five feet

before Opal noticed his approach. She turned to face him, a venomous smirk on her face.

“Is this the part where we fight to the death so you can avenge your dead parents?”

Balen’s enraged snarl was all the answer she got. Not giving her a chance to make the

first move, Balen launched himself at her, throwing bolts of blue flame as he moved. Balen’s

accuracy was seriously diminished under the force of his anger. Most of the bolts missed her

entirely, but one shot managed to fly true, striking her in the shoulder and sending her

careening into the nearest wall before crumpling to the floor.

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With Opal down, Gray had a smidgeon of hope that she might see the futility of this

fight and surrender. If one of them didn’t back down, someone was going to get seriously

hurt and he had a pretty good idea that person was going to end up being him. As the only

non-Demon in the room, Gray didn’t like his odds of survival if it came to a full-on Demon

battle.

Gray’s hope didn’t last long. As Opal rose, the smile on her face told Gray all he needed

to know. Her pleasure at the thought of killing them both just confirmed the knowledge that

she would never back down. Opal was willing to risk death for a chance at the crown and

she wasn’t going to settle. She was running balls to the wall, no holding back.

“Nice shot!” Opal laughed. “Now, I want your honest opinion. What do you think of

this?”

Gray didn’t have a chance to even process her words before a volley of flaming

projectiles were headed in their direction. The small orbs were each about the size of a

softball, made entirely of dark purple flame, and were shot in rapid succession, similar to

machine gun fire.

If it had been Gray, on his own, facing down such a barrage, he wouldn’t have stood a

chance. While the shots couldn’t have killed him, the residual pain from deflecting them

would have been excruciating while also leaving him open for further attack. Thankfully,

that wasn’t the case. Even with so much anger and rage still coursing through him, Balen

didn’t falter when he put himself between Gray’s body and Opal, using his body as a living

shield. While his bulky mass was able to block the worst of the attack, some of the orbs were

able to avoid interception and continue on, true to their course.

Gray did his best to avoid the incoming projectiles, but without Demon speed and

strength, he was at a distinct disadvantage. He took a hit to his left shoulder and another to

the stomach, on the same side. While his natural shields were still in place and kept him from

suffering real damage, they did nothing to dampen the pain or driving force of impact. Gray

likened it to wearing a bulletproof vest. Its purpose was to save your life—nothing more,

nothing less. The hit to the shoulder stung but was manageable. The hit to the stomach,

however, was so much worse. The air was driven from his lungs, and the pain was like

nothing Gray had ever felt before. He felt like he had taken a wrecking ball to his chest. It

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didn’t help that the force of the impact threw him back nearly twenty feet, leaving him a

crumpled heap on the floor, unable to move and gasping for breath.

Huddled in an agony-filled ball, Gray waited for another blow but none came. Cracking

open an eye, he watched Balen and Opal locked in combat across the room. In their thirst to

destroy each other, they seemed to have forgotten all about him, and Gray was okay with

that. He was wholly unequipped to participate this fight. Better to let the Demons duke it out

and pray that Balen was the victor. He was having a hard enough time getting air back into

his lungs, let alone trying to be an active participant in the fight raging across the room.

“Well, well, Oracle. It seems our time has come at last.”

Gray’s heart seized.
Povell. How the hell did I forget about that nut job
? A shadow fell over

him as a hand wrapped around his arm, jerking him roughly to his feet. The combination of

malicious glee and arousal on Povell’s face turned Gray’s stomach and had him fighting off a

shiver of revulsion.

“What you saw in your vision doesn’t even compare to what I have planned for you,”

Povell murmured, leaning in to lick a trail up the lobe of Gray’s ear. “That was amateur.

This—this will be a masterpiece.” Povell closed his eyes and groaned, a look of pure bliss

lighting his face. If Gray didn’t know the man was imagining Gray’s own torture and

probable death, he would have said the expression was beautiful. Instead, it just furthered

his belief that Povell was an evil, twisted monster that needed to be put down. His death

would be a gift to the world.

Gray watched Povell warily, as he walked a slow circle around him. He gave himself a

lot of credit for not flinching when the Demon ran a questing hand across the expanse of his

chest, around the curve of his waist, before tracing a line down his back and over the cleft of

his ass. He barely bit back the whimper of fear that tried to escape when Povell pushed in

firmly on the seam of his pants, directly over his entrance. Gray had to fight the urge to

throw off his hand and run. Povell’s touch made his skin crawl and itch, like being covered

in thousands of biting ants. It felt wrong to allow it—made him feel dirty. The only person

who had the right to touch him this way was Dreo. Gray belonged to him. No one had the

right to touch what belonged to Andreo Demos.

As if that thought had conjured him into existence, Dreo burst through the door,

followed by a small contingent of soldiers. With his long hair pulled back in a queue, his jaw

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clenched and his eyes flashing black fire, Dreo looked fierce. He was every bit the warrior

and as far as Gray was concerned, the man had never looked more gorgeous. A combination

of Demon warriors and Gray’s guards spread out behind him. They stood together, weapons

and powers at the ready, and Dreo standing front and centre.

“Well, well, well—if it isn’t
Lord Demos
, come to grace us with his presence? To what do

we owe this pleasure?” Povell sneered, pulling Gray in until his back was pressed firmly

against Povell’s front.

Dreo growled. “You have something of mine—I want it back.”

Povell laughed, squeezing Gray tighter against him. Running a hand down Gray’s

body, Povell groped him suggestively, eliciting another growl from Dreo. “Oh, you mean the

Oracle, here? You must be mistaken. This is my Oracle. I have exciting plans for him,” he

taunted. “Maybe you’d like to join us? See how it’s really done?”

“I am warning you now, Povell,” Dreo rumbled, onyx flame flickering in his eyes.

“Anything you touch him with, I will cut off before I grant you the mercy of death. Do not

test me on this. I will not be giving second chances.”

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