Chapter 3

Hades stepped back and gave me one of those grins that would have been frightening if my blood wasn’t already thirsting for revenge. I gazed up at the Demon King, my eyes steady, my chest rising and falling with excited breaths. Anyone looking at us would think we were a pair of maniacs. Maybe we were. Because of Griff’s calculated betrayal, I had ended up here in Hell instead of leading my pack.

“Wonderful,” Hades drawled as he swept his arm toward the other side of the room. “Healer Iaso will fortify your magic and prepare you for an induction to the modern world.”

He stepped back to reveal an even larger space with doors leading out on both sides. At the far end of the room were a pair of staircases on each side that led to a mezzanine. My gaze slid to a gold-framed mirror, where a short woman in a hooded cloak beckoned me over. My brows rose. Had she been standing there the entire time Hades and I had been talking?

“Come along, Miss Aibek,” she said, sounding brusque. “Four decades of the Punishment Pits are going to put a strain on the soul.”

“Right.” I scrambled to my feet, gave Hades a nod of goodbye, and strode around the huge table to the other side of the room where the healer awaited.

As I approached the mirror, she stepped back, and I finally got to see my reflection.

My once-beautiful blonde hair lay in greasy clumps around my face, making it look even broader, bringing attention to my piercing eyes, hawkish nose, and thin lips. Strangely, I hadn’t lost a single pound since going to Hell. My gaze swept over my broad shoulders, making me shudder. When they dropped to my 38HH boobs, I squeezed my eyes shut.

I looked ghastly.

All those replays always showed the past from my own point of view, and it wasn’t like I’d spent any time gazing at myself through the mirror. It was always the barest glimpses. When I styled my hair, I did it mostly without looking at my face. It was easy enough when the person staring back at you was so unlovable.

“Miss Aibek?" Hades asked from the other side of the room. “Is there an issue?”

“No,” I rasped and didn’t give any further explanation. It wasn’t like me to open up to people about my biggest vulnerabilities.

I stepped through the enchanted mirror, wincing as the magic sliced through my flesh. For a brief second, I thought it would tear me apart completely, the way such devices did to people without enough power to sustain their physical form. My breath caught, and I braced myself to disintegrate into molecules. Instead, I snapped back into place, and my foot landed on a marble floor.

My next destination was a white room with a glass wall at the back that showed the same green scenery and the mountain that I’d seen on the other side of the palace. Healer Iaso awaited on the right of the space beside a high platform that looked more like a table than a bed.

On the left was a screen built into the wall that belonged in a high-budget sci-fi movie. The only thing missing from this scenario were the aliens.

“Is this the Living World?” I asked, already suspecting the answer.

She shook her head. “We’re still in His Majesty’s palace.”

I pressed the heel of my hand into my chest, still not quite believing there could be anything pleasant in this dimension. “What happens next?”

“Your soul has withered more rapidly than expected for your duration in the Pits.”

She pointed a wand between my eyes, and a series of numbers and glyphs and runes floated in the space between where we stood. I hadn’t been the best student at the academy, but I recognized the symbols for magic, wolf, life, and strength.

“You said I’d been there for four decades,” I murmured. “What year is it now?”

Healer Iaso hesitated. It had been a silly question, but seeing Griff looking happy and with those women had boiled my blood. Now, I was in no fit state to make even the simplest of calculations.

“It’s 2021,” she replied. “Had you not been executed, you would have been sixty-four.”

I reeled forward, my throat tightening. The healer grabbed my arm and walked me across the room. “Please accept my apologies, Miss Aibek. I should have anticipated your reaction to the passage of time.”

Nodding dumbly, I trudged to the platform on legs I no longer felt. Bloody Hell. I could have been a grandmother by now. Maybe even retired from being an alpha to make way for my son. Anguish burned through my veins like acid. Why had fate mated me to someone so thoroughly rotten? Why had fate mated me to someone at all?

Healer Iaso helped me onto the platform and got me to lie on my back. I stared at the white wall, breathing hard as she wrapped restraints around my body, tethering me to the cold surface.

“What’s this?” I turned to her and frowned.

She produced a needle as thick as my finger. “The procedure for restoring your soul involves the infusion of concentrated magic. Some might find the process disturbing.”

“How could it be as bad as anything they did to us in the Punishment Pits?”

She inclined her head. “You make a very valid point.

However, please hold still.”

With a sharp nod, I clenched my teeth, tightened my muscles, and braced myself for pain. Whatever happened next would be for a purpose. This trip to the Living World wouldn’t just settle my grudge against Griff—it would guarantee an afterlife free from suffering.

Healer Iaso plunged the needle into my solar plexus, and I sucked in a breath through my clenched teeth. It was bad but bearable, especially since she hadn’t accompanied it with laughter or insults.

“All right,” she murmured as she connected the needle to a transparent pipe that led to a hole in the wall. “Prepare for the infusion.”

Before I could take another breath, my belly filled with the most incredible heat. It was agony and acid and lava. My mouth opened in a silent scream.

“Well done,” said the older woman. “You’re taking this a lot better than the others.”

“What others—”

The magic rolled over me like a tidal wave, making me catch my breath. Healer Iaso took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Breathe, dear. It’s the only way to get through the process without exploding.”

My eyes bulged. Hades hadn’t told me the process would be dangerous, but then, I hadn’t asked. Air gusted in and out of my lungs as I inhaled and exhaled as though my life depended on it… even though I knew I was long dead.

I curled my hands into fists and roared. Fucking Hades. Fucking Griff. Fucking Cathwulf for not even thinking to ask if there was a downside to this mission.

The pain intensified as the molten magic filled every energy center in my body, splitting into painful pathways that stretched from my scalp to the soles of my feet. Next time someone offered me a proposition and it seemed too good to be true, I’d have to demand a list of guarantees.

“There,” the healer said as she withdrew the needle. “All done.”

All the agony concentrated on my solar plexus, which felt like a Catherine-wheel firework that threw off burning sparks. I turned to her and said through panting breaths, “It still hurts.”

She waved away my comment. “It will take a few hours to settle. His Majesty will see you and the others to explain the mission. Once you’ve gotten a new body, it will just feel like gentle warmth.”

“There are others?” I rasped.

The healer flicked a wand at my torso, and all the straps holding me down opened with several clicks. Some of the pressure eased off my chest, and I could finally breathe easily. As easily as one could breathe with a flaming cannonball lodged between my lungs.

I pulled myself up to sit on the platform and stared at my hands. They were completely solid and looked as strong as they did when I was alive. Gone were the bruised knuckles, cracked nails, and misshapen fingers, making it look like I had never spent two-thirds of my existence in Hell. A curtain of luxuriant honey-blonde hair fell into my eyes, which melted my heart.

“Drink this.” She shoved a cup beneath my nose.

I took a delicate sniff, inhaling the combined scents of vanilla, peppers, milk, and cocoa. “What’s this?”

“An invention of mine.” She brought the cup to my lips. “Hellish hot chocolate. It’s fortified with pain killers, strength enhancers—”

My mind switched off the moment I heard her suggest it might do something about the magic burning a hole in my chest. That was exactly what I needed right now, and I took the proffered drink and drank it in several gulps.

It was warm and creamy and a little too sugary, but it was the first real thing I’d eaten since the day before my execution. The shit that the demons stuffed down my throat during torture sessions didn’t count. I let the liquid swirl around my tongue, washing away the bitterness and leaving me with hope.

I turned to her and asked, “What else did you put in that?”

Her eyes softened. “When His Majesty showed me your file, I couldn’t help thinking you were wronged by the system.”

My breath stilled. “You’re the only person who’s ever said that.”

“How many of your judges were women?” she asked. “One.”

I wasn’t sure how things worked now, but in the seventies, the Supernatural Council presided over high- profile cases. Alphas died all the time in leadership battles, but my trial had been so sensational that everyone wanted to know the lurid details. It had meant there was no jury, only the seven monarchs who ruled Logris. In my case, six, because I’d murdered the current Shifter King.

The Witch Queen had told the other judges that there had been extenuating circumstances, but the other men had been horrified at what I had done and sentenced me to death.