Vengeance of a Queen: The Resurrection of Queens, Book 2
Vengeance of a Queen: Prologue

I pace the confines of my cell. I’m infuriated that the Óir has the balls to change the game. Extinction level events happen, and they need to just accept that humanity’s time is over. Their reign as “gods” is over.

I’m further enraged that Malick has continued to resist my control. Without Katia there to act as my conduit, I’ll need to find a replacement to ensure his loyalty. I had to bring the witch under my wing and into Malick’s life when he became despondent over needing to force changes in females to procure a child. Malick wouldn’t take a woman unless she was willing—a fucking archdemon with a sense of honor, disgusting—so I made them willing. I reached out with my powers and instructed Katia on how to produce the serum, and once he injected them with the potion, I could control their minds.

All except for Lilith and the queen.

My rage almost blinds me at the thought of those two females. I thought it a fitting end to Morningstar’s little pet to have her turned into my mindless puppet, but she repelled my influence, as did the queen. I know the Óir have something to do with the queen’s ability to resist my calling. I had my claws in her, bringing her ever closer to the edge, when suddenly, her life had faded away. I knew then that the Óir, despite their continued commitment to “not interfere” with “free will,” had, in fact, interfered.

I pace faster as my fury continues to build.

The battle with the queen has caused Malick to question his commitment even further, despite knowing there are two additional queens he can take. I have yet to inform him of the newly turned queen, still not quite believing it myself. The only thing that keeps his interest is his attraction to the first queen. He felt a pull to her when he first saw her, but I needed to feed that spark. The amount of interference I’ve had to run lately has drained me. It’s not easy to reach beyond the gates with my power. It’s far easier for someone to send energy in than it is to send energy out of the pit, but I’ve honed my skills over the last several thousand years.

I ponder who to send to Malick now, never halting my strides across my confines. I can’t send him my spy, who hides within the queen’s ranks. That individual has proven far too valuable. I’m tempted to terminate Malick altogether. I have another archdemon who has proven far more loyal and malleable, though waking him will be difficult.

A nudge on my mind has me skidding to a halt.

Brother? a sweetly, seductive female tone trills in my mind. Surprise flairs through me. I haven’t heard Lust’s voice in millennia. Satan? Is that you? I haven’t heard my true name in so long it takes me a moment to register she’s used it.

Aye, Azazel. A wicked grin spreads across my face. If I can connect with my siblings, then I can change the damn game too, because it means the first seal has been broken.

Does this mean we’re finally getting out of this horrid place? Pride, Ramiel, sounds disgusted that he’s had to remain in the pit for so long. I can’t say I blame him.

You’re not about to leave me out, Dagan growls.

My siblings, my brothers. I’m surprised Azazel is currently female, since he typically enjoys his male form. If he hasn’t been able to spread his influence out of the pit, this must be how he’s entertained himself. Abaddon and Beelzebub are the only two I haven’t heard from, but I know it won’t be long until they reach out to me just as the others have.

I had originally wanted to go about this alone, but the touch of my brothers’ minds against mine reminds me that we are far more powerful together. I’ll need them to take down the Óir and their queens.

And so I start to fill my siblings in on my plan.

Malick

It’s been weeks since the battle with the little queen and her community. Weeks. When I awakened in that cave, I assumed that mere moments had passed. That prick, Wrath, had kept me suspended for bloody weeks.

While I can accept that it was in my best interest, as I’d desperately needed to heal, the thought of losing so much time infuriates me, especially now that I know of Ayla’s sisters. Wrath had a point about letting her do all the work, but it’s not that simple. I need to find a new bloody mage since the little queen went and killed mine. I also need to assess the losses to my ranks and ensure that my facilities are still intact. I understand the Sin is in Hell, but using a touch of critical thinking wouldn’t kill him.

I’m back at the house I held Ayla in, picking through what’s left of the place and trying to determine my next step. Is it even worth it to continue down this path? While ruling beside Morningstar would be spectacular, I’ve been at this for centuries now, and frankly, I’ve grown tired. Exhausted, really.

Now that I’m truly thinking about it, my heart hasn’t been in this venture, not really, since well before I captured Aine. Why had I continued?

A cloaked figure appears beside me. I don’t sense any threat, so I merely observe. They sought me out, so there’s no need for me to engage in conversation unless they do.

“Lord Malick.” I can’t determine if they are male or female, which tells me they are using a spell to disguise their voice. My eyes narrow in suspicion. “Lord Wrath has sent me to aid you in your quest against the queens.”

Interesting phrasing, “against the queens.” I’m not specifically against them. It’s quite the opposite—I want to mate with one to produce the Antichrist. While that may not align with Ayla’s goals, I certainly have no wish to kill her.

That realization startles me. I have no intention of murdering any of the queens. My main objective is to obtain a mate. This rocks me to my core.

“And who, exactly, are you?” I’ll play along for now. After all, Ayla has officially mated with the male dragon, so my best hope of mating with a queen rests with her sisters.

“My identity is of no concern. What matters is that I can lend you the magical assistance you need for success.” My suspicion increases. “Lord Wrath has a plan.”

“Does he now?” Suddenly, I’m filled with renewed dedication to the cause. Part of my mind rebels against this wave of excitement. Wasn’t I just saying I was tired of all this? I can feel something slither into my mind, burrowing deep.

“He does.” The voice sounds pleased. “And he’s delighted that you continue to dedicate yourself to the cause.”

That flare of rebellion is back, only to be pushed aside by whatever has burrowed into my mind. I frantically attempt to hold onto that feeling of mutiny, not wanting to lose myself in these false thoughts. It’s no use, however, because my own thoughts slip through my grasp like sand.

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