The bass deepened. Thump. Thump. Thump. Distantly, the crowd cheered, the party still raging. Maybe incubi and hellhounds falling to their deaths from the king’s balcony was an everyday occurrence here. She wanted out of this awful place.

In the center of the room, she poured the whiskey in the shape of Emerazel’s sigil.

Thump. Thump. The bass was so loud it rattled the floor. How could they continue to dance, with the two pulverized bodies in their midst?

The beat was almost deafening. Something was happening in the hall, but just as she started toward the edge, a gust of icy wind rushed over her skin. She stared in horror as enormous wings rose above the balcony. Thump. Thump. Thump. She stared into Abrax’s cold, beautiful face.

He looked glorious and terrifying at the same time, like a medieval painting of the Angel of Darkness. His body had transformed, and claws and talons had grown from his hands and feet. All around him, black mist twisted and swirled like ink in water. His frigid gaze fixed on hers.

“Did you think I forgot about you?” Gracefully, he landed on the edge of the balcony and stalked closer.

Ice ran up her spine, and she stumbled back. Where the fuck is that sword? Her gaze landed on the king’s halberd, discarded on the floor. She dove for it just as the incubus swooped in, his talons raking the wood. She slid across the floor, grasping for the weapon, but the incubus caught her leg with one of his talons, yanking her toward him, ripping through her flesh. As the pain pierced her, she unleashed an agonized scream.

Abrax flipped her over, yanking her under him and pinning her to the floor, claws piercing her wrists. He was going to tear all the flesh from her bones, and the agony blinded her. She arched her back, screaming.

“Really, Ursula. That blade wouldn’t have stopped me,” he growled, his leathery wings spread out above her, and pressed his claws further into her flesh. Pain screamed through her forearms.

Her pulse raced, the pain so intense she couldn’t think straight. She wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore, not with her muscles torn apart. “What do you want from me?” she managed.

He leaned closer, whispering, “I want to know who you are.” His voice was soft, seductive.

She gritted her teeth, trying to think through the agony. “You and me both,” she choked out. Fury flooded her, and she let Emerazel’s fire blaze, burning like the sun’s core, until it seared the incubus’s hands, igniting his clothes. He leapt up, his wings beating the air. Embers sparked from his wings, and he swooped over the main hall, circling like a beast of prey. He wasn’t finished with her.