Page 145 of She Who Holds My Wrath

“Gehenna has space.”

The words hit the room, and I can’t seem to bring myself to respond. Silence stretches between us, thick with tension.

I stare at him, finally able to force out a sentence. “Say that again.”

Lucifer straightens. Not in a defensive or amused way. He’s serious.

“Not the pits,” he says immediately. “Not the public sectors. Deep beneath Hell, I have old vaults. Pre-war structures. They’re shielded and mostly forgotten. They’ve not been using in millennia.”

My mind races. Gehenna. The last place anyone would think to look for refugees.

“It’s ugly,” he continues evenly. “It’s dark. There’s no sunlight. But it’s fortified. Buried beneath layers of stone and warding even the Divine Six would have to work to crack.”

I stand slowly, every muscle tight.

“You’re offering protection,” I say carefully.

“Yes.”

This isn’t any form of leverage. I can see it in his face. There’s no angle, no trick, no hidden cost. He’s offering genuine protection.

Understanding dawns, and with it, something dangerously close to relief.

“Maelkar’s turning you soft,” I mutter.

A corner of his mouth twitches. “Don’t tell him,” Lucifer replies dryly. “I’ve spent eons cultivating a reputation.”

I huff out a breath that’s half-laugh, half-exhaustion. “You know this makes you a target.”

He shrugs. “I’ve always been one.”

I look back at the map. At the now dead lines.

“I’ve started clearing it out,” Lucifer continues. “We’ll speak to Daisy and have her staff help my lower demons in creating a space that can feel as… homely as possible. Vailith is going to bring the children and help with schooling.”

He pauses for a moment, almost looking self-conscious. “It won’t be perfect. But I will do my best to make sure our civilians feel safe and at peace.”

I know he feels uncomfortable showing vulnerability. Lucifer is notoriously known for being the most ruthless bastard in this realm, aside from Korithax. I mean, he tortures people for a living. So I decide to give him reprieve from his head.

“Begin evacuations,” I say quietly. “Children first. Then non-combatants. Quietly, without panic. We can continue to build it into something akin to home once they’re inside.”

Lucifer inclines his head. “I’ll start straight away.”

As he turns to leave, I let myself breathe properly for the first time in what feels like centuries. Gehenna has bought us time. Not permanent safety, because when the wards fall, nowhere will be safe forever.

I don’t go to my chambers to rest.

Instead, I follow the sound of steel on steel. The training grounds are impossible to miss. The air itself seems to vibrate as I approach. Shouts, hellfire, the crack of lightning, the low thunder of thousands of boots striking earth in unison. When I step through the final archway, the sheer scale of it all hits me like a physical force.

There are so many of them. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers fill the expanded grounds, spilling far beyond where the original walls once stood. The space has been reshaped—widened, reinforced, carved open by Vor’Khar’s brute power—but even that almost isn’t enough to contain what’s gathered here.

Something eases in my chest as the sight. They’re training together. Not in neat, segregates lines by realm, but interwoven. Mixed. Learning each other’s rhythms, strengths, weaknesses. Learning how to survive side by side.

From Fjellheim Heights, storm-wielders move like living tempests. Lightning arcs between raised palms, controlled bursts cracking against reinforced shields as wind whips around their feet, lifting sand and sweat-damp hair alike. Frost clings to the edges of their armour, the air around them humming with restrained power.

Solaran soldiers blaze nearby, sunlight spilling from their hands in focused strikes. Sunfire blooms and retracts with disciplined precision. White-gold flames scorching targets without spreading, heat rippling visibly through the air. Their armour gleams, reflecting the light back into the ring like miniature suns.

Stormravan’s warriors are something else entirely. Earth rises at their command—stone walls erupting from the ground only to be shattered moments later by crushing blows. Vines and roots snake up from beneath the sand, ensnaring opponents before dissolving back into dust. Their magic is heavy and ancient. It feels alive.