Goddess Of The Underworld. Chapter 82

The obsidian throne beneath me hummed with power, mine. Still new enough that I felt it in every breath, every heartbeat. The Veil was thin today. I could sense souls brushing its edge. Layah leaned back in the smaller throne I’d conjured beside mine. It suited her, dark stone with clawed legs and flames licking subtly along the arms and Layah? She ruled her chaos like she was born for it. My Kings stood before me, silent, waiting for my nod.

“You know your roles,” I said softly, but it echoed like a spell.

Xavier vanished first, no flourish, just absence. The shadow slipping between planes.

Haiden followed, spinning a glowing ledger from thin air as he stepped through a doorway of polished light.

Levi muttered something I didn’t catch, then dissolved into his portal and Noah smirked, of course. He cracked his knuckles like he was going to war with the concept of peace, then gave me a wink before vanishing in a flare of heat and red sparks.

I exhaled and turned to Layah.

“You good?” I asked.

She grinned. “Always.”

“Keep them in line?”

“Obviously.”

She pushed up, muscles rolling under her skin, no glamour, no pretense just raw, grounded. Just the sound of her paws as she disappeared into the shadows.

I stayed in the throne room, I would have the leaders of the forgotten come today.

Layah’s Visits – Filtered Through Envy’s Senses

I couldn’t see her, not directly, but our link was sharp now. Subtle vibrations, images, instincts bleeding into my awareness.

Xavier. Still and silent in the mists between worlds. Layah padded behind him, watching as he reached out to each soul with cold certainty. She didn’t speak much. Neither did he. But I felt a brush of curiosity, a flicker of dry humor from her. And beneath that, a soft thread of something quieter. Respect.

Haiden. Warmth and chatter. The buzz of transition. Layah’s presence there was more felt than seen, a stalking calm in a place of bureaucratic chaos. I caught a flash of her smirking at a demon assistant. Haiden’s exasperated patience. Her laughter echoing faintly in the background. She brought balance there, even if it was just by existing.

Levi. Cold. Judgment. Stillness. Layah prowled his corridors like she was looking for cracks. She didn’t find any. But the souls flinched in their pods when she passed. Levi met her with that unreadable calm he wore like armor. There was something there, though. A flicker of challenge. Maybe respect. Maybe warning.

Noah. The heat hit hardest. Fire and screams. Layah didn’t flinch. She met it with a grin. Walked right through it like she belonged. Noah’s energy flared when he saw her, too pleased, too wild, but she met him head-on, brushing him off with that cocky confidence she always wore like a blade strapped to her thigh.

They talked. She left. But the grin lingered on Noah’s face long after she disappeared.

The throne room had grown quiet in their absence, but never still. Power shifted constantly here, thick in the air like smoke and shadow. I’d spent the last hour meeting with various creatures who governed the forgotten. Shifters, demons, fae-born hybrids who’d earned their place among us. Most brought good news: stable flow, orderly transitions, groups that pulsed with balance but a few reported…glitches. Sectors experiencing unrest. Souls going rogue. One camp had even reported a growing hunger that had nothing to do lack of food, something darker, older, whispering in the bones of the place. Another spoke of a pocket of corrupted spirits that had begun chanting in sync, trying to summon something unnamed. I listened. I took notes. And when needed, I issued orders.

My guards were more than happy to track the outliers. Any soul stepping out of line would be returned to Levi for reassessment. I trusted him to decide their fates with his quiet, terrifying precision. I’d also checked in with Silas, my favorite goblin, who now wore a crooked little crown I had authorized. He delivered his report with breathless urgency, shuffling through half-burnt scrolls and scrolls that smelled vaguely like swamp water.

“The Veil is thinning faster than anticipated,” he’d said, wide-eyed. “In some places, it’s almost gone entirely. Mortal things are leaking in. Grass. Birdsongs. A breeze.”

“A breeze?” I had frowned.

He nodded rapidly. “From the sky, my Queen. The sky. There’s sunlight down there. It’s cracking through like this realm is remembering something it’s not supposed to.”

The Underworld wasn’t supposed to breathe in the light. Not like that.

I felt them reappearing before I saw them. Xavier was first, quiet as always. No dramatic entrance, no shadows. Just a shift in the air and suddenly, he was beside me, his fingers brushing mine like a whisper of frost. My bones sighed in recognition. Then Haiden, materializing mid-step, a conjured desk appearing with him as he dropped a heavy file onto its surface. He didn’t look up, already muttering notes to himself about anomalies and soul metrics. Levi walked in next, silent but calculating, his coal-dark eyes scanning the room like it was still full of sinners. Maybe it was. With Levi, judgment wasn’t an action, it was a state of being. Noah strolled in last. Fire licked at his shoulders, curling like affectionate snakes, and his eyes crackled with energy. The smirk playing at the edge of his lips told me he’d enjoyed himself a little too much and then Layah. She didn’t walk in. She arrived. She emerged from the shadows like a flame blooming in the dark, power clinging to her skin like steam. She looked like she’d run through hell and kissed every flame on her way out.

“All your kings are still in one piece,” she said with a casual shrug, flopping into the throne beside mine with all the confidence of someone who belonged there. “Well-fed. Mostly behaved.”

I arched a brow. “Only mostly?”

Noah winked. “Define behaved.”

Layah rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say one of you was caught daring a soul to bite him back.”

Haiden didn’t even look up. “Noah.”

“What? They had teeth...Hell is a spicy playground,” Noah said innocently.

Xavier didn’t speak, of course, but his hand remained linked with mine. Through that cool tether, I felt the echo of satisfaction, of a mission completed. The quiet kind of pride that needed no words. I looked around at all of them, my kings, my people, my hellhound and the power that surged through me wasn’t just magic. It was purpose. This was our kingdom. This was our balance. And together, we were rewriting the rules.

“We’ll head back soon,” I said, my voice soft but sure. “Let the witch test us again.”

I rose from my throne, my crown flickering with energy drawn from the Veil itself. Layah’s throne flared beside mine, echoing the power she brought simply by existing.