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July 8 - July 9, 2025
It was my favorite kind of symphony—one that allowed me to focus entirely on the joy of creation.
death didn’t discriminate between paradise and hell.
A good book was its own brand of magic, one I could safely indulge in without fear of getting caught by those who hunted us. I loved escaping from reality, especially during times of trouble. Stories made everything possible.
Young women died. Life resumed. Such was the way of the world, at least according to men.
Some more-vicious gossips even hinted that she must have deserved it. She’d somehow asked for it by being too bold, or confident, or ungodly. If she’d only been a little quieter, or more subservient, she might have been spared.
Unless you have an object that belongs to a prince of Hell, these spells should only call forth a lower-level demon.
It was my first true smile in weeks, and it was as dark and vicious as my thoughts had been lately.
In the end, the monster we feared didn’t come from Hell. He came from privilege.
It seemed I’d been wrong earlier; the goddess of death and fury hadn’t ignored my pleas. She’d simply been biding her time, waiting for me to turn my despair into something she could use.
A twig was just a bit of broken wood until it had been sharpened into a spear.
Grief carved me in half. And fury honed the piece...
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“Bound forever in eternal protection.”
I’d done the impossible—I’d bound one of the Wicked to this realm. Which was very, very bad.
My hatred and wrath so strong I almost got drunk on the intensity of it.
he was enjoying those dark feelings, too.
“You demon-blooded witch. You marked me.”
He was raging against the magical leash I’d put on him, straining to snap free.
“Congratulations, witch. You’ve succeeded in getting my full attention. I hope you’re prepared for the consequences.”
“One day you’ll call me Death. For now, Wrath will do.”
A prince of Hell will never give their true name to their enemies.
Solace was the furthest thing from vengeance and I wanted nothing to do with it.
you’re only alone if you choose to be, Emilia. Please don’t forget that you’re still living and are loved. And, if you let me, I can help.”
His annoyance joined mine in unholy matrimony.
“Allowed your inner desires to surface. Some call them sins.”
Summoned through hate, bound by blood.”
Give me a steamy romance novel with forbidden love and impossible odds. That was the kind of adventure I could get behind.
“Vengeance is a potent emotion. It makes you easy prey to both humans and demons alike.
Never let someone know what your true motivations are. If they know what you want more than anything, they’ll craft all sorts of sweet lies and half-truths to manipulate you. They’ll know exactly how far they can push, what to offer, and what you would never refuse, giving them the upper hand.
“That was luck, not strategy.” “Both are needed. But it can be argued that luck improves with a well-thought-out strategy.”
power is neither good nor bad. It’s intent that really matters.
“Work on your emotions. You’re ruled by fire—and are easily angered and excited. Qualities that are not bad in certain instances, but are detrimental when facing your enemy. Do not make it easy for them to read you. They will certainly be doing everything they can to thwart your efforts at uncovering their truth.”
“I’m suggesting you have untapped power, Emilia. Twist my words, twist the meanings all you like. Such is the mortal way.”
Choice is powerful. And we princes do love our power.”
You’ve been Marked by a prince of the underworld in a different way. It’s supposedly a high honor among their ruling Houses. Very few are given them.”
People carved words into weapons often, but they only had power if I listened to them instead of trusting in myself.
If my enemies wanted to create doubt in me, I’d believe in my own abilities even more.
“You’re wrong. We’re not born evil. Some of us become that way. Through hate.”
Perhaps it was simply my own darkness escaping.
The goddess of death and fury did. I knelt down, eyes blazing, and forced him to look at me.
Death would be a kindness. And I wasn’t feeling particularly kind.
“I swear on my blood, you will never know true happiness again. Your heart will be cursed to be broken each time you forget the sins you’ve committed. And each time you laugh, I will be there, waiting, to remind you.”
“You, a man of God, doing the work of supposed angels, want to summon the devil?”
Some bonds could never be broken.
I hoped the kingdom of the wicked was ready for a vengeful queen.
