Chapter 97 Chapter 97

Chapter 97 Chapter 97
“Too late.” I said with a smile.
He sighed, muttering something in an old tongue I didn’t recognize. Then he stepped forward, his voice low. “Gem… when you get there…”
“I’ll find him,” I finish. “And I’ll come back when it’s safe.”
“Liar,” he said softly. “You’re not coming back.”

I met his gaze. “Then make sure they don’t follow me.”
He nodded once, solemn, and stepped aside.

The fissure flickered, cycling through the colors blue, white, gold, and then deep crimson. My pulse synced with it. I could feel Azrael’s grace, faint but steady, somewhere beyond the light. The bond hummed through my veins like a melody I’ll never forget. I uncorked the vial and drank it. The potion burned going down my throat, hot and cold at once, tearing away the scent of brimstone, the pulse of Hellfire. For a moment, I feel nothing—no realm, no power, no weight of a crown. Just me.
“Go,” Baltazaar said.

I take one step, then another. The fissure swelled, the air around it vibrating. My heart pounded in my ears. The last thing I hear is his voice, low, steady, and protective.
“Give him hell, Queen.”
Then the light swallowed me whole.
Falling through the void felt like being unmade. No heat, no cold, no time. Just existence stretched thin. My body dissolved into energy, then reformed, burning and freezing at once. I felt the tether to Hell snap behind me, replaced by a faint thread of light pulling me forward.
And then air. I crashed into soft earth, rolling, gasping for breath. The first thing I tasted was rain. I laughed out loud, breathless, wild. It was clean.

I pushed myself up and looked around. The forest was alive with dawn. The sky glowed faint gold, and in the distance, beyond the trees, I saw the faint shimmer of divine light, heaven’s border.
Close enough to touch.
“Azrael,” I whisper. “Hold on. I’m coming.”
The bond thrummed in my chest, answering like a heartbeat.
I stood up, brushing dirt from my clothes. The disguise is still working; my flames are dimmed, and my aura is muted. I have minutes, maybe less, before either Heaven or Hell notices the hole I just tore through both realms. Behind me, the fissure closed with a hiss, sealing the path home. No going back now.
I took one last look at the dark horizon and smiled. “Thanks, Baltazaar.”

Then I started walking toward the light. Every step felt like defiance. Every breath felt like victory. And somewhere, high above the clouds, I knew he felt me coming.
The forest hummed. Every leaf, every drop of dew, felt alive with something ancient. The air smelled like the sky before a storm sharp, electric, and full of promise. It was beautiful, and it terrified me. I’ve been gone from the mortal world too long. Everything here breathes too softly. The quiet presses against my ears, so different from the endless roar of Hell. I miss the heat, the rhythm, and the chaos, but only for a heartbeat. Then I think of Azrael, and it’s gone.
The bond pulled faintly north, a whisper beneath my ribs. He’s not far.

Heaven’s veil burned above the horizon, a shimmer that looked like sunrise trapped in glass. I could feel his grace there, like a distant heartbeat calling to mine.
I could fly, but I didn't want to take the chance, so I started walking.
The ground was soft beneath my boots, grass slick with dew. Birds scattered as I passed. Even the wind felt nervous, unsure what to make of me. I can’t blame it; neither Heaven nor Hell ever meant for me to stand here again. A creature of fire and ruin doesn’t belong among things that grow.
Too bad. I’m done belonging to anyone’s realm.

The path opened into a meadow. Morning spilled across the earth, golden and warm. For a moment, I let it touch my skin real sunlight. It doesn’t burn. It never did, not truly. Just scorched enough to remind me what I am.
A ripple of energy shuddered through the air faint, distant, but unmistakable.
Azrael. The connection flared bright enough that it ached. I stopped, pressing a hand to my chest. The world tilted, colors bleeding brighter. My vision filled with flashes, feathers, blue light, and chains. His name echoes through the bond, raw and soft all at once. He was thinking of me. That thought alone steadied me. So I keep walking.

The hills grew steeper, the air thinner and colder. By the time I reached the ridge, I could see it, the edge of Heaven. The veil stretched across the sky like molten glass, the surface rippling with an impossible color. It’s the closest thing to beauty the Creator ever made, and I hate it for how much it hurts to look at.
Because he’s on the other side and because I can’t cross it. Not yet.

The fissure magic was fading fast. My disguise was breaking as flames flickered beneath my skin, the faint scent of sulfur threading through the air. I couldn’t stay here long without drawing attention. The day God took Azrael’s light and I went to hell, turning my back on heaven, I was considered fallen, a deserter, a betrayer. Heaven's order. I couldn't just fly to heaven anymore; this was the only way in.

I kneeled at the edge of the ridge and pulled the small charm. Baltazaar gave me, from my pocket, a fragment of his essence sealed in obsidian. It hums faintly, waiting for a command.
“Keep them out,” I whispered, pressing it into the ground. A wave of energy rippled outward, cloaking the hilltop in shadow. “If anyone comes looking, make them think I never existed.” The charm sank into the soil, glowing once before vanishing completely. The air stilled.
There. Hidden. For now. I settle on the edge of the ridge and stare at the horizon. The light bent and shivered, as if something beyond it recognized me. I could almost feel his gaze, the brush of his grace searching the void, skimming across my consciousness like a hand reaching through glass.

“I’m here,” I whispered.
And for a moment, the light flickered. He knows. He always knows.
Tears pricked at my eyes before I could stop them. Stupid. I’m the Queen of Hell. I burned through seven dominions, I broke angels in half, and yet one look from him, even one thought, turns me soft.
“Stop that,” I muttered to myself, wiping at my face. “You’re not a lovesick mortal.”

But my heart didn’t listen. It never does where he’s concerned.
I heard a rustle behind me, and instinct took over; I spun around, hand outstretched, fire bursting from my palm. The flame halted midair, barely an inch from a familiar smirk.
“Still dramatic, I see,” Baltazaar said, stepping through the smoke.
I lower my hand, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “You followed me.”

“Of course I did.” He glanced toward the veil. “Can’t let you get yourself smitten alone, can I?”
“I told you to stay back.”
“And I told you I don’t listen well.” he retorted.