There were several shocked intakes of breath.

“You should remember,” I said, and I felt my magic moving through me, eager for the fight, “that I am not only Azazel’s daughter. I am Lucifer’s granddaughter, and the power of the Morningstar flows through me. What you have done is tantamount to declaring war on my grandfather’s kingdom. Whatever powers you think you have, they won’t do you any good when I pull your heartstone from your chest.”

That was kind of an icky and demony threat coming from me, but I wanted to make sure that Focalor knew that I meant business. I also knew that there was this rule and that rule and the other rule about harming other members of the courts of the fallen, but I thought Lucifer might give me a pass if I averted a massive war by killing Focalor. I’d probably get stuck doing another shitty favor for old Granddad, though.

“Enough,” Amarantha thundered.

We both turned to look at her. I’d kind of forgotten that we were standing in her court, actually. I was all wrapped up in trying to figure out how to take Focalor down before he slashed my throat open with his claws.

“Whatever the arguments between the courts of the fallen, my court is not the place to air your grievances. You have both done me a grave insult by bringing this here.”

“He started it,” I muttered.

“Lord Focalor, in exchange for this insult, I demand that you leave Lord Azazel’s thrall with me.”

I started to protest, but Focalor cut me off.

“That suits me very well, my lady, as I had intended to gift the thrall to you in any case.”

What? What purpose could Focalor possibly have in giving Gabriel to Amarantha? Well, besides the obvious purpose of pissing off Azazel.

Amarantha looked deeply pleased. There was something else going on here besides Focalor openly declaring war on Lucifer.

“That is an exceptional gift, my lord Focalor,” Amarantha purred. Suddenly all of Focalor’s insults were forgotten. “Violet, take the thrall to my chambers.”

I looked at Gabriel, who still wore a stony expression; at Amarantha, who could barely disguise her glee; and at Focalor, who gave me a smug smirk. I didn’t bother looking at Antares. There was no doubt that he was thrilled to pieces at pulling one over on me.

“You can’t accept Gabriel as a gift,” I said, trying to control my temper. I was not in Amarantha’s good books at the moment. “He’s not Focalor’s to give. Gabriel is Azazel’s thrall and in Azazel’s absence I speak for him.”

“It seems to me,” Amarantha said silkily, “that you should have taken better care of your father’s thrall in the first place. The thrall is in Focalor’s possession, not yours. Therefore you have no claims over him.”

“Thank you for accepting my gift, lady,” Focalor said.

“In exchange for this generosity, you may remain as a guest of my court,” Amarantha said. “However, due to the delicate nature of my courtiers, your demons must remain outside.”

“Understood, my lady,” Focalor said.

Violet stepped forward to take Gabriel’s leash from Antares. Amarantha stood from her throne. She practically hummed with anticipation.

Two of Amarantha’s warriors/servants came to Focalor’s side and escorted the fallen lord and Antares from the throne room, presumably to show them to their quarters.

This was ridiculous. I was going to start shouting and blasting everything in the throne room in a minute. Amarantha could not possibly be accepting Focalor’s claims of independence from Lucifer. She could not possibly be taking Gabriel from me.

Amarantha turned to enter her receiving room. I started after her, but felt a hand on my shoulder.

I turned to shout at the person holding me and saw that it was Wade.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “Don’t give her more ammunition to hurt you. If you want your bodyguard back, think before you act.”

To my horror I felt tears filling my eyes. Violet led Gabriel into the receiving room behind Amarantha.

“Don’t let them see you cry,” Wade said.

“Yes,” I said, and I blinked until I felt the tears receding.

I would not cry in front of Antares and Focalor. I would not give them the satisfaction of knowing how much they had hurt me.

“Good girl,” Wade said. “Now, come away. I need to speak with you.”

Everyone in the room was staring at us. The other wolves gathered around me. J.B. joined them.

“Come away,” Wade repeated.

He took my arm and I let him. I wasn’t sure I could walk without support. The rush of adrenaline had left me and I felt shaky. I marched out of the throne room with my head held high, the werewolves flanking me like a guard of honor. As soon as the throne room doors closed behind me, we heard the explosion of chatter.

“So glad to know that I’m good entertainment,” I said.

“We must find a place where we cannot be overheard,” Wade said, looking to J.B.

“The east tower,” J.B. replied. “My mother designed it specifically for privacy. No one has the key except members of the family.”

J.B. led us through the maze of Amarantha’s castle. I barely registered where I was putting my feet. What was Amarantha going to do with Gabriel? How was I going to get him back?

Gabriel. I needed Gabriel. Amarantha had Gabriel. These thoughts chased around my head to the exclusion of everything else.

Several minutes later we climbed a series of spiral stone steps and entered the east tower. The room was designed for comfort rather than show. There was a large fireplace, several soft rugs and lots of well-stuffed furniture. Pillows were scattered everywhere and there was lots of gleaming warm wood. Overall the effect was a lot homier than the rest of the castle.