“He’s pledged his loyalty to me. We will lead his brethren out of the darkness and into the light. Abrax and I will rule the mortal realm together.”

On cue, Abrax stepped from between a pair of soldiers to stand by Oberon’s side. Ursula’s breath caught, as an icy chill constricted her chest. She remembered how Abrax’s claws had carved chunks of flesh from her legs. He’d tried to murder her—twice.

“Give me my wings,” Bael roared, and the platform beneath them trembled. Ursula clamped her hands to her ears, the sound sending a rush of pure fear through her bones. God, he was terrifying.

In front of them the pikes of the fae soldiers quivered and shook like reeds in a storm.

“You can scream all you want, but your wings are mine,” said Oberon, his eyes sliding to the golden satchel. From within, he drew two pieces of skin.

Ursula grimaced. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Blood dripped from between Oberon’s fingers. She strained her eyes, just making out a tattooed design on the strips of skin: golden wings. Those were Bael’s wings? Yuck.

“If you damage my wings, I will tear your spine through your throat.” Bael didn’t scream this time, but pure venom laced his voice, and somehow, it was worse than his roar.

Oberon ignored Bael, holding the skin higher. “These wings are a direct conduit to the magic of Nyxobas.” The soldiers cheered again. “With their power, we will no longer need to conceal ourselves in this realm. With their power, we will rule the mortals.”

Abrax stepped forward. “Are you ready to receive them?”

“I am.”

“Good. I want Bael to watch.”

Ursula wasn’t sure what was happening, but her stomach turned.

Oberon let his robe drape off his back, exposing his skin in the moonlight. From behind him, Abrax drew a thin dagger from his jacket. The king bowed his head.

“Get away from my wings.” Bael boomed, the timbre of his voice shaking her.

Oberon turned his head to address his soldiers. “If the fallen demon speaks again, incinerate him.” The soldiers began to weave the ends of their pikes through the air, magic hissing and sizzling at their tips. Ursula’s heart raced. This had not turned out well.

Next to her Bael stood, his entire body rigid with tension. She could tell that it took every ounce of his willpower not to charge forward.

Abrax held the dagger over Oberon’s back. “Prepare yourself to join the kingdom of Nyxobas,” he solemnly intoned.

“I am ready for the power of the night god.”

Abrax’s dagger glinted in the moonlight. Then, like a silver meteor, it plunged into the center of Oberon’s back.

Chapter 41