Season 7, Episode 23

The Throne of the Black Devil was prepared. Had been for some time.

As soon as it had completely discarded the idea of Hades trying to challenge it, there was no blocking where the power was flowing, toward the arrogant and surprisingly strong no-fur the Black-fur now called his mate. One of two no-furs that carried Hades's kits. Apparently, its troubles would continue to be Hades-adjacent.

The Throne wasn't worried, not in the least. This Spitfire would either accept his new role and bow to its power or burn up in the flames that created the Underworld itself. And if that were the case, he would be a delicious distraction to obliterate slowly.

There was only one place to begin a formal challenge and Spitfire would know where it was by instinct. The Throne's room, its seat of power. Spitfire had been disrespectfully bold the last time he stepped foot in here. He would pay for that if the Throne could crack the code to his guilty conscience.

But that was what the Throne was made for. N