Amaris stepped inside. At the far end of the chamber stood a massive black throne. And sitting upon it was Zuriel.
Amaris stopped. She had heard stories about him. But none of them prepared her for the demon before her.
Zuriel possessed almost godlike features. His long black hair fell over his shoulders. His eyes were deep crimson. His face was strikingly handsome, but countless scars crossed his body. Some ran across his chest. Others disappeared beneath his dark clothing.
Every scar was proof of an ancient battle. He had guarded Semel for centuries. The Underworld had been attacked more than a thousand times. Yet whenever Zuriel stood on the front line, no enemy had ever succeeded.
He had won battle after battle. And now he ruled the entire Underworld.
"Amaris."
His voice was calm.
She stepped forward.
"Uncle."
Zuriel smiled.
"You look like your mother."
Amaris' expression softened.
"Thank you."
Zuriel's gaze shifted.
"And you must be Zion."
Zion nodded.
"Zuriel."
