Chapter 13 The devil’s Truth
The throne room felt different this time.
Emptier. Colder. The shadows seemed deeper, hungrier, as if sensing the approaching death of their master.
Lilith walked the long path to the dais alone. Malachi had left her at the doors with a warning: Whatever he tells you, remember he’s still the Devil. Every word serves him first.
The eight thrones stood as before, but now only one was occupied.
Lucifer looked worse than the last time she’d seen him. His skin had gone translucent, showing the outline of bones beneath. His breathing rattled. But his eyes, those burning red coals, remained sharp and aware.
“Closer, child.” His voice was barely a whisper, yet it filled the vast space. “I don’t have the strength for theatrics anymore.”
Lilith climbed the dais steps, stopping a respectful distance away.
“You’re dying.”
“I’ve been dying for centuries. The difference is, now it matters.” His laugh turned into a cough. “Do you know why I called you here?”
“To manipulate me into doing whatever serves you best?”
His smile was genuine, delighted. “Oh, I do like you. So much more spine than the others.” He shifted in his throne. “You’re right, of course. I want something. The question is whether you’re smart enough to figure out what before you agree to it.”
“I’m not agreeing to anything.”
“We’ll see.” He gestured vaguely. “My sons are idiots. Powerful, dangerous idiots, but idiots nonetheless. They think this is about them. About their petty squabbles over territory and power, and which one gets to claim you like a trophy.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.” The word was sharp, cutting. “This is about survival. Mine. Theirs. Yours. Everyone’s.” His red eyes burned into hers. “Tell me, child. Do you think I built seven kingdoms and ruled for millennia just to watch it all collapse the moment my heart stops?”
“I think you built an empire on fear, and you’re terrified of losing control.”
“Exactly.” He grinned, showing too many teeth. “Fear is honest. Fear keeps things alive. My sons don’t fear enough. They think they’re invincible. They’re not. None of us is.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to do what they can’t. Unite them.” He leaned forward slightly. “Not through the prophecy. That outdated script was written by people who didn’t understand what was really at stake. I want you to unite them through something they actually respect.”
“Which is?”
“Power.” The word hung in the air. “Real power. Not divine birthright or fated destiny. The kind of power that makes them kneel because they have no other choice.”
Lilith’s stomach tightened. “You want me to conquer them.”
“I want you to rule them. There’s a difference.” His breathing grew more laboured. “The prophecy says you choose one. Bind yourself to one. Let him use your power to dominate the others. But prophecies are suggestions, not laws. There are always loopholes.”
“What loophole?”
“That’s for you to discover. If I tell you, it’s my plan. If you find it yourself, it’s yours.” His smile was cruel. “But I’ll give you a hint, look to your left, can you see a white cover on something that looks like a throne?
Lilith’s eyes flickered to the white cloth on her left.
“Someone sat there once.”
“My wife. My equal. Dead for millennia.” His voice roughened. “I never replaced her because no one was worthy. But that throne has power of its own. Old power. The kind that doesn’t bow to prophecy or fate.”
“You want me to take it.”
“I want you to earn it. If you can.” He sagged back. “But that’s not why I called you here. Not really.”
“Then why?”
“To tell you that you’re not just fighting my sons for dominance. You’re not just navigating prophecy and politics.” His red eyes dimmed slightly. “Something else is coming. Something that makes our internal squabbles look like children fighting over toys.”
Lilith’s breath caught. “What?”
“I don’t know.” He said it with bitter frustration. “I’ve felt it for decades. A pressure is building at the borders of reality. Attacks that don’t make sense. Forces probing our defences. My sons think I’m paranoid. Senile. But I know war, child. I’ve waged it for aeons. And I know when something is preparing to wage war against me.”
“Why tell me this?”
“Because you might actually survive what’s coming. My sons won’t. Not separately.” His hand clenched on the throne’s arm. “They need someone strong enough to force them together. Someone they can’t ignore, dismiss, or destroy. I thought it would be one of them. I was wrong. It has to be you.”
“I’m nineteen years old. I’ve been here two weeks.”
“And you’ve already changed the dynamic in my court more than anyone has in centuries. Azrael is obsessed with you. Cain is falling for you. The others are circling like sharks.” His smile was knowing, disturbing. “You have power they can’t comprehend, and they can’t break. Use it.”
“To serve you.”
“To serve yourself. I’ll be dead soon. What do I care who rules after?” His voice dropped. “But I’ll tell you this: if my sons tear each other apart fighting over you, everything I built collapses. And whatever is waiting at the borders? It walks in and takes everything.”
Silence fell between them. Lilith’s mind raced, trying to separate truth from manipulation, warning from trap.
“What do you get out of this? Really?”
“Legacy.” The word was quiet, almost vulnerable. “I’m the Devil. I’ve done terrible things. I’ll be remembered as a monster. But if someone strong enough takes my throne, holds my sons together, faces whatever threatens us? Maybe I’m remembered as the monster who built something that lasted.”
He coughed, violently this time. Black blood appeared on his lips.
“Go. Think about what I’ve said. Discover the loophole on your own. Earn that throne if you can.” His red eyes burned one last time. “But do it quickly. I don’t have much time left. And when I’m gone, the clock starts ticking on everything else.”
“Why should I trust anything you’ve said?”
“You shouldn’t. I’m the Devil.” His smile was sharp, fading. “But ask yourself this: if I’m lying, what do I gain? I’m dying either way. If I’m telling the truth, you have a chance to survive what’s coming. Either way, the choice is yours.”
Lilith stood slowly. “One question. The attacks you mentioned. Are they happening now?”
“Why do you think Azrael has been so distracted lately? Why do you think my sons are more on edge than usual?” His eyes closed. “Yes. They’re happening now. Small. Contained. But growing. And my sons think they can handle it with military force alone.”
“Can they?”
“Not if they’re fighting each other at the same time. Which they will be. Unless you stop them.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Now leave. I’m tired. And you have training to attend to. Cain is waiting for you, I believe. Don’t keep her waiting. She’s not as patient as she pretends.”
Lilith turned to leave.
“Lilith.” She stopped. “I failed my Seraph . Crushed her without meaning to because I didn’t understand what she needed. Don’t let my sons make the same mistake. And don’t let yourself become what they want you to be. Become what you need to be. Even if that terrifies all of us.”
She didn’t respond. Just walked away, his rattling breath echoing behind her.
The doors closed with a soft boom.
Malachi waited outside.
“Well?”
“He told me just enough to make me paranoid and not enough actually to help.”
“That sounds like him.” Malachi began walking. “What did he reveal?”
“That something is attacking the borders that his sons don’t take it seriously. That I need to unite them somehow.” Lilith glanced at him. “Did you know about the attacks?”
“Yes. Azrael has handled three incursions in the past two weeks. Small forces. Unidentified origin. He thinks they’re rebels or scavengers.” Malachi’s expression was grim. “They’re not. They’re too organised. Too precise. Someone is testing our defences.”
“The Devil doesn’t know who?”
“That's not for me to tell you.” They reached a junction in the corridor. “What else did he say?”
“Something about a loophole in the prophecy. About the eighth throne.” Lilith looked at him directly. “His wife sat there once. Why doesn’t anyone talk about her?”
“Because she terrified everyone, including him. She was his equal in every way. Some say stronger.” Malachi’s voice was carefully neutral. “When she died, he sealed her throne. Forbade anyone from even mentioning or claiming it. Until now, apparently.”
“Why now?”
“Because he’s desperate. And desperate devils do desperate things.” Malachi stopped walking. “Be careful, Lilith. Everything he told you serves him in some way. Even if you can’t see how yet.”
“I know.”
“Good. Then you’re learning.” He gestured down the corridor. “Cain is in her quarters. Third door on the left. She’s been pacing for an hour waiting for you.”
Heat flooded Lilith’s face. “How do you know that?”
“I know everything that happens in this palace. It’s my job.” His almost-smile returned. “Go. Just remember: whatever you start with her, you’ll have to navigate with Azrael eventually. And Pride does not share well.”
He vanished into the shadows, leaving Lilith alone.
She stood there for a moment, processing everything. The Devil’s manipulations. The mysterious attacks. The eighth throne. The loophole she was supposed to discover on her own.
And Cain, waiting for her just down the corridor.
Lilith took a breath and walked toward the third door.
Tomorrow, she could worry about devils and thrones and mysterious invasions.
Tonight, she needed something real. Something honest. Something that was hers by choice, not prophecy.
She knocked.
The door opened immediately.
Cain stood there, still in training leathers, volcanic glass eyes searching Lilith’s face.
“You look like you’ve been wrestling with demons.”
“Just one. The worst one.” Lilith stepped forward. “Can I come in?”
Cain moved aside without a word.
The door closed behind them.
And for the first time since arriving in Hell, Lilith made a choice that was entirely her own.