“New favorite mode of transportation,” Oliver said, and I agreed.
Alexei gave us a smug smile. “If you had wings, you wouldn’t be saying that. But it is the next best thing.”
Gazing up at the unique, frosty building, I realized Oliver and I had reached the wrong conclusion.
“Hoaras in hoarfrost,” Oliver said in an aha moment, taking in the building with a similar appreciative expression.
Ice frosted the vines crawling up the brick facade. The sparkling white-and-blue surface glittered beneath the flaming streetlamps, looking like a foggy coat of glass. Next to the other partially frosted brick faces, the Hoar House stood out—a beautiful oddity in a sea of normality.
Here, in what I assumed was the heart of Hoar Hollow, the cold piercing my cheeks faded away in the splendor of the magic surrounding Hell’s city. Colorful sleighs lined the cobbled, snowy street, with Hellcats at the forefront of each carriage. Other sleighs blinked in and out, startling me with their sudden appearance and departure on this busy street. And the splendor of Hell didn’t end there. Above our heads, angels with gorgeous feathered wings in varying neutral colors flew overhead. If what Alexei said was correct, most of them must be blood-banded, given permission from the king to live in his world.
Before this moment, if anyone had asked me if I wanted to come to Hell, I would’ve said no, expecting fire and gruesome torture. And while our squad leader was torturing Oliver and me, this almost made it better. It was as magical as the time we walked through Damatha Forest—totally unexpected, and mesmerizing.
Alexei laughed. “Ronen thought you two might like the inner city.”
I whipped my gaze back to Alexei. “The general?”
He grimaced. “Guess there goes the mystery of my motive. He suggested getting you out of the castle. It wasn’t actually my idea—I was just following orders…” He trailed off at my gaping mouth.
What was the general playing at?
Chapter
Seventeen
LUCILLE
Ablast of rich, warm spice hit my face when I stepped through the door of the Hoar House. I had never been to a tavern on Earth or in Elora, but I assumed they didn’t look like this.
Icicles protruded from the ceiling, their sharp tips glistening in the flickering flames of glass orbs hanging between each cluster. Vines dusted in frost crawled up the walls, intertwining with twinkling lights that seemed to move and hum. When one light fanned its wings, I realized the strand of lights was glowing butterflies. I shook my head in shocked wonder. This place looked nothing like what I expected a tavern in Hell to look like.
Sparkling icy floors and ethereal lighting? No. Dark, threatening, and bloody? Yes.
I expected the tables to be worn and stained with food and blood, not made of glass and frosted with a crystal votive as the centerpiece.I expected the bar to be decorated in reds and blacks and lined with jars of body parts, not the soft frosted whites and blues of ice and glass shelves displaying an assortment of liquors in various shapes and sizes, none of which I recognized. They could’ve been Hell’s special concoctions or Earth’s finest for all I knew.
The Hoar House might have been something I expected to find in Damatha Forest, but its patrons made up for the lack of gruesomeness with their open soul wounds, weapons, and bloody uniforms.
“What are you doing here? And why in the seventh circle isRunewith you?”
Recognition stiffened my spine. I turned. Tucked in a secluded booth beneath an ice-carved arch sat Moira, surrounded by her simpering admirers.
Before I could respond, Alexei came over and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“Lucy, Oliver, Rune, and I have some business to attend to. Nothing to worry yourself about, Momo.”
I bit my lip hard to keep my grin at bay as Moira’s face pinched into a dark scowl. Even better, I knew Alexei outranked her, so she couldn’t say shit, which she proved by nodding with thinly pressed lips.
Once he steered us to our frosted table, I let my grin loose.
“I think I’d like to marry you after that,” Oliver joked.
Alexei clapped him on the back, laughing. “I’ve never liked Moira, which is unfortunate, seeing as she’s sleeping with Ronen. But to each their own.”
I grimaced. Rune pressed against my leg, licking my hand.
“So, how are you liking Hell so far?” Alexei asked, waving over a server.
“Before, I thought it was an ice prison with a bunch of psychotic warriors. Now I think it’s an ice prison with a bunch of psychotic warriors and some potential,” Oliver said, gazing at Alexei like he wouldn’t mind if he were dinner tonight instead of whatever the tavern had.
