Anthony pushed his finger to his mouth, telling Margo to be quiet. Grace entered a room that had no other exit than the door they approached. Carefully, he peeked through the gap under the hinges, enough to make one eye visible. Grace was pacing the room, ranting to herself like someone was listening. She tugged on her hair with hands covered in Veronica's blood.

"Not my fault, not my fault!" Grace yelled. "It's them. It was always them!"

"She's lost her mind," Anthony thought.

"I'm not surprised. She's trying to kill her family. Nobody with a right mind would do that." Margo tugged Anthony back and mouthed "what do we do?"

He shrugged and thought back, "We can't let her leave this room. She tried to kill Veronica."

They didn't know.

On the outskirts of the house, Hunter, his pack, and Jacota made it through the crowd, just as the demons reached their home.

Rayvon, Luka, Vinny, and Oliver were forced to fight to protect Madison, Duke, Flora, and Alfred. They were too old to fight, and indeed too vulnerable.

Sam pushed William into the house and shut the door, forcing him to stay inside where it was safer. He didn't know Grace had broken in. "I'm sorry," he said when Alfred locked the door from the inside and pulled the key out of the human's reach.

"Sam!" William banged on the glass. "Don't fight this without me!"

As the God of wisdom was about to turn away, he spotted Anthony flying across the kitchen floor on his back. Blood covered his face. Margo was next, being thrown into the wall by a woman with ragged hair.

"Alfred!" Sam yelled, regretting his decision to lock away the elders. He thought he was doing the right thing. Now he had put William in more danger. "Alfred open the door!"

The old man tried and dropped the keys. As he struggled to pick them up, Grace turned to William.

Some would say that William had her eyes, but not anymore. They were no longer kind or assertive; they were wild like the animal she had become.

"Your leg," she whispered, staring at his walking stick. "I have been watching my family for a long time now. Your injury is proof that you don't belong in the world of the werewolves."

"Nonsense!" Flora snapped, standing with William as Alfred fumbled with the keys. "It is you who doesn't belong here. You were changed into a wolf; you're not pure like the rest of us. William has never changed to be more powerful. He doesn't need to."

Grace took a step forward. Her feet stuck to the white tiles with the blood from Anthony's head wound. Margo leant over him, desperately wiping the red fluid from his eyes.

"The only pure person in this room is William." Grace stared at her child, barely able to remember the days when he was still in college with Jacota, despite being two years older. Failing his first year was hardly a surprise, he had always struggled through education. But failing his first year brought him and Jacota closer as brothers. "Human's are the only beings who should exist."

Sam banged on the glass behind them, but Grace didn't even flinch.

"Alfred for goodness sake! Just pick them up!" Sam yelled. Alfred was old and couldn't reach them. The God of wisdom took a few steps back to build momentum. He was going to charge through the glass if it was the last thing he did.

As he held his breath, Scott ran to the window before him, throwing Margo's flowerpot into the glass. It shattered into more pieces than he could count.

Jacota turned in time to see his father dart through the window. The events from that moment onwards felt like slow motion.

Scott sprinted for Grace who grabbed a mug from the counter, chucking it at his head but missed. Scott dived on her and yelled something about her killing Veronica.

Sam was next to enter the kitchen, but instead of going to William, he ran around the fighting and crouched by Margo and Anthony, his parents. They were both injured. Anthony more than his wife.

Grace screamed at Scott to get off him and pulled his shoulder at an awkward angle. Scott heard a crack and felt a twang of pain all the way down his arm, but he didn't give up. He pinned his ex-wife onto the floor, staring into her cold dead eyes, wondering how he ever loved her.

"How dare you!" he growled through gritted teeth. "The only thing I will ever thank you for is giving me William and Jacota. They have been the light in my life when you tried to drown this family in darkness. Your time is up now Grace. You're going to hell!" He lifted her head, preparing to smash it against the hard floor, but Grace raised a hand with a piece of the shattered glass between her fingers and slashed it across Scott's face, catching his eye in the gash.

Scott cried out and froze for long enough to be pushed away. He landed on his back and curled into a ball, nursing his injury when the light in his right eye turned to black.

"I'm still bringing shadows to this family," Grace spat and turned to William. "You're a family of monsters!"

Then, she lunged for her son. Her human son. Jacota, in his wolf form, sprinted towards the house when Flora tried to protect William. Grace pushed her aside like she wasn't even there. Flora's old bones crumpled in a heap when she landed and skidded across the floor with enough force to stop Alfred's heart.

Grace gripped William's arms who dropped his walking stick.

"You'll be better off in heaven. I can't see you living in this cursed world any longer."

Jacota crashed through the window, and his paws skidded along the tiles, making deep scratches with his claws.

Grace lifted hands to William's head and prepared to snap his neck and end his life for good until she felt an icy sting in her gut. Looking down, she noticed the handle was no longer fastened to her son's walking stick, but it remained in William's hand. Attached to the replica of Sam's wolf head was a blade, small but magnificently sharp.

The human stood on one leg with a knife in his mother's stomach. He could only stare into her eyes. They were once familiar to him. As a child, he would do anything to make them happy. He wasn't a child anymore, and Grace was no longer the mother he wanted in his life.

"Fear really does bring out the worst in people. Enjoy hell." William twisted the knife then pushed her away to die a slow death.

He fell to the ground and landed on something warm and fury. Jacota aided his fall, not caring that his mother was dying, only caring about his real family.

Grace stood on trembling legs, watching the blood trickle from her wound. She grinned with sinister eyes and said, "If I'm dying, your father is dying with me." She turned, expecting to see Scott huddled on the floor, whimpering about the wound on his face. Instead, a big white wolf stood in his place, growling and baring its teeth. The gash was still on Scott's face, and he could only see out of one eye, but that was enough sight to see his pray.

Jacota and William pushed their heads together when Scott mauled Grace, digging his sharp teeth into her neck and ripping it apart like tender meat falling off a bone.

The brothers hugged, one as a human, and one as a wolf. William buried his fingers in Jacota's fur, trying not to pay attention to his mother's cries.

Then there was silence. Too much silence.

Flora was lying on the ground unconscious, Duke and Madison crouched with Aflred who checked his wife's pulse. Anthony was struggling with a head injury, and Margo had broken bones. Grace lay dead on the floor as Scott stood over her body, in his wolf form for the first time in a while.

Sam and William watched each other from opposite ends of the kitchen, and Jacota tried not to look in the direction of his mother.

On the other side of the field, the Gods were getting closer and closer to Lucifer. They used their powers to get rid of the demon's, but the hell-hounds targetted the God's mates, leaving them all vulnerable and half distracted.

The leader of hell stood with a devilish grin until his breath caught in his throat. His lungs seized up, and his heart ached with grief. He snarled and dropped to one knee, holding his chest like it would fall apart if he didn't.

"Master?" His bodyguards crouched to help, but they couldn't do much when the problem was internal.

"What a good day to have a heart attack," Bren thought to his mate as the word spread through the crowd that the demon's leader was in trouble. As Bren predicted, the demons rushed to help him, leaving the angels and werewolves temporarily alone.

The whispers of what was happening reached the house when a hell-hound left Hunter alone to rush to her leader.

"I think Lucifer is having a heart attack," Hunter thought to his mate, looking back at the house to see Jacota's wolf softly licking a tear from William's cheek.

The God of lightning stopped and stared at him. "A heart attack-" he paused and slowly turned back to Grace. Was it just a coincidence that Lucifer experienced pain after her death?

"He's not having a heart attack," Sam said, joining their conversation. Being the God of wisdom gave him gifts like Margo. He just knew he was right. "His heart is breaking."

"Breaking?" Hunter turned back to see Kaiden and Milokan approaching the leader of hell. Meloras and Jeronah were right behind them.

Kaiden glared at any demon who gave dirty looks to his angel, but what concerned him more than their stares was the fear in Lucifer's eyes. He was scared for the first time.

"Are you dying?" he asked, not really expecting a response. "I hope so. It would do us all a favour."

Bren's wolf snorted with amusement.

"Do something!" Lucifer breathed, gripping onto his biggest bodyguard. "Find that angel of healing!"

"Are you joking?" Jeronah asked, enjoying how he didn't know his son could heal people. "No angel will touch you."

"That won't save him." Jacota had changed into his human form and teleported next to the other Gods. "His soulmate is dead. He'll die either way."

"What?" Kaiden looked stunned. "A soulmate? Who?"

"Grace."

"Your mother?" Bren had shifted into his human form too. Jacota nodded. "Well, I'm hardly surprised. Both evil, both gross, and both willing to kill out of revenge."

"Why is Lucifer getting revenge?" Cordelia asked. The demons were no longer fighting, they crowded round, standing in silence as their leader gasped for breath.

"Because of me," Meloras said. "I was designed to be his soulmate, but I fell in love with his brother, and we found our bond." Jeronah nodded with a shrug. "He deserves nothing but pain."

"You fools!" Lucifer screeched with his last desperate breaths. "Heal me! Get help! Listen to me!" The demons did nothing. They could only watch because there was nothing they could do. Maybe they didn't want to do anything.

"Someone put the leech out of its misery," Bren sighed, clearly bored that the fighting stopped so suddenly.

"No way," Kaiden muttered, looking around for Veronica and fearing the worst. He last saw her in Scott's arms, and he never did make it to them. "I want to watch him suffer."

"Don't worry," another voice said behind Kaiden. He turned to see the gatekeeper who guarded hell's entrance. The last time they met, the gatekeeper helped Kaiden and his mother escape hell. "We all do. Even those who won't admit it."

Jeronah pushed through the demon's bodyguards who backed off when it became clear that their leader would die. He crouched by his brother and lifted his head up using his greasy hair. "I would say farewell, but I want to show you how in your last minutes of life, you're still alone. All you wanted was love and love was the thing to kill you." Lucifer's cheeks were almost as red as his eyes when he splurged for breath. The pain in his chest was unbearable. "You caused so much pain to so many; this death is what you deserve."

"Did you know?" Jacota asked. He could feel Hunter's stress who was still at the house. His family were suffering great injuries. "Did you know that Grace was your soulmate?" The word 'mum' didn't sound right.

Slowly, Lucifer shook his head to say no.

Jacota smiled with satisfaction. "Good. I hope it hurts you more to know that she was stood by your side tonight. The love of your life." His skin crawled with disgust at the thought. "Maybe your souls will find each other in hell."

Lucifer then closed his eyes and joined the list of many who had died in the early hours of a warm morning. The clock struck at precisely 3 am when his life slipped away. His body sunk in the mud.

Despite his death, the war was far from over. Demons were free, free to do whatever they pleased. And they craved destruction more than anything else. Their impulses to kill thrived in what would now be known as the devils hour. An hour to cause as much terror as they possibly could.