The demons herded them downwards, towards the Eighth Circle, as the demons outside my arena pulled their women towards the procession.
“They’re Satan’s Brides,” Vyra whispered through bloodless lips. Her large, dark pink eyes swam with unshed tears. “Sacrifices. The Dragon called for more women.”
I placed my hand over hers, feeling her tendons standing out from the strain of gripping the rail so hard. “Vyra. He won’t have you.”
“He sees us all.” She took a shuddering breath and sobbed. “He knows where we are.”
I whirled around, finding Azazel close enough to touch. “Azazel, take her to Blackchapel. Take her now.”
He pried his sister’s hands off the rail. Vyra stared wide-eyed until he spun her around and hugged her, holding her close and pushing her face against his chest so she couldn’t see. She gripped two handfuls of his shirt, hyperventilating in ragged gasps.
His violet eyes held mine as they vanished into shadows, and I saw the faintest glimmer of stars in the air as they shot towards Blackchapel, away from the horrifying parade of sacrificial lambs.
No sooner had they left than Arcturus’s flaming hooves hit the roof of my arena, sending up sparks. The horse tossed his head as Belial jumped down from his back, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl.
“Where-” He stopped dead when he saw me at the rail, his shoulders tight, fists clenched at his sides. “You should be inside.”
The tension coiled inside me had eased a little when Azazel spirited Vyra away, but there were other women walking to their deaths now.
“Belial, you can’t let them go.” I jerked my head back towards the procession. Most of them had passed into the Eighth Circle, Fraud, but there were still some descending from the Sixth.
Even though I was powerless to do anything, he was a prince. A prince who’d come all the way from the Brightside just to make sure I was still safe.
Despite my horror, a warm glow kindled inside me.
“They belong to the Dragon now,” he rumbled, eyes flashing, but he’d taken a step forward, then another, until he was almost close enough to touch. Tascius kept his arm wrapped around me, like he was afraid I’d jump off the roof and join the doomed women.
“Are you the Prince of Wrath or aren’t you?” I breathed, my hands shaking. “Please do something for them!”
Belial gritted his teeth, his eyes flicking from me to the streets below, and threads of gold twined through his dark hair.
I gasped when he jumped over the side of my arena, shifting in midair as he fell eighty feet to the ground below. The enormous golden lion hit the ground on all fours, opening craters beneath him and setting fire to a glowing bush with a switch of his flaming tail.
I leaned over the rail, watching as demons threw themselves out of the way as the lion rampaged into the streets, knocking carts, food stalls, and people aside without a second thought.
The male demons running the procession with whips turned as his roar echoed down the street, some flinching and covering their ears. One dropped the whip and ran, and the women left in the Sixth and Seventh Circles paused, looking askance at the lion.
Some looked relieved, and my heart tightened in my chest.
“These are for the Dragon!” one shouted, waving his arms. He looked like a mouse next to Belial, waving his arms to catch the golden lion’s attention.
Surprise filled me when Belial stretched open his massive jaws and roared, but there were words in the rumble and growl of his beast-speech.
“I CLAIM THESE WOMEN AS MY TRIBUTE.” His roared words echoed down the street like thunder.
The demon faltered as Belial crept closer. His lion’s mouth could swallow the demon whole. “The Red Dragon demanded-”
Belial let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his tail flicking and knocking another slaver aside. “DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FUCK WHAT THE DRAGON WANTS?”
The women had herded together in a tight circle, their arms wrapped around each other. I pounded on the rail, silently urging Belial to eat the motherfucker if that’s what it took to free them.
“He… they’re chosen sacrifices.” The demon straightened up and brandished his whip. “They were chosen for Satan himself.”
Belial sat back on his haunches, aquamarine eyes glittering dangerously. “I CHOOSE THEM. THEY ARE THE PRICE OF YOUR SAFE PASSAGE.”
The demon opened his mouth to argue again, and Belial brought down a titanic paw, crushing him against the obsidian. A pool of blood slowly spread on the stone beneath his claws.
The other slaver who’d dropped his whip pushed the remaining women forward. “Take them, Prince! Take them! They’re yours as tribute.”
“WISE MAN.” Belial got up and prowled around them, herding them down the side street towards the arena and leaving a crowd of terrified demons behind him. “GET OUT OF MY FUCKING CIRCLE.”
The remaining demons scattered, and the denizens of Wrath gave them looks that promised extreme violence if they returned. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, the tension melting away and leaving me exhausted.
We hadn’t saved them all, but we’d done what we could.
I touched Tascius’s face. “Please help the Chainlings find places for the women. We’ll bring them home when it’s safe.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed my palm, his eyes dark. “Don’t get yourself hurt.”
“You know me.” I smiled and replaced my palm with my mouth, nipping his lip. “It’s time to go hunting.”
Tascius disappeared inside, and I summoned my magic, forming a thorny spear. When I looked over the edge of the battlements, the women were making their way towards the gates of the arena. My Chainlings were opening the way.
There was one thing left that I needed to do.
I jumped over the edge and spiraled downwards, landing next to one of Belial’s paw prints. It was big enough that I could’ve curled up inside it if I wanted to.
The females streaked past me, darting for the refuge of the arena.
