Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

W hen I’d said home , I’d actually meant Azazel’s mansion that I’d come to know during my time here in Hell as a human. No other place had carried that meaning in years, and it hadn’t occurred to me that he’d be living somewhere else now.

So to say it was a little jarring that he took me to a completely different estate was an understatement. Though, to be fair, that initial shock lasted for only a few moments, quickly replaced by awe at how much grander and even more luxurious everything was.

The palace—and yes, that word fit, as this building wasn’t even a mansion anymore but something more glorious and imposing and definitely befitting the station of archdemon—rose from the desolate landscape like a magnificent castle crafted from the darkest stone, the material polished to a shine and reflecting the purple lightning in the sky and the flickering orange from the fires of Hell.

Easily three times the size of Azazel’s previous home, it seemed like a city unto itself, much like Lucifer’s palace. And given the number of demons living here as part of the court and the estate, it really could pass as a small metropolis.

Consequently, there was a lot of hustle and bustle in the halls, demons going about their day, fulfilling their tasks, or simply enjoying themselves. The moment we touched down in the receiving courtyard, the scout that had met us at the border and flown ahead to the palace announced the arrival of the estate’s lord…and lady , and the following genuflection by the demons flanking the walls of the courtyard had sent shivers up and down my spine.

It continued like this. Wherever we went in the palace, demons fell to their knees or bowed deeply, not just to Azazel, but to me as well. I was part of the package. Everybody greeted me with the utmost respect, and I even noticed a few demons whom I recognized from my time as a human in Azazel’s territory, and to my unending surprise, quite a few of them seemed genuinely glad to see me, some actually saying that it was “good to have me back.”

“You look dazed,” Azazel murmured as we made our way down the halls deeper into the palace.

“I just—” I shook my head to rearrange my thoughts. “It’s like they’re truly happy that I’m back.”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Yeah?”

He laughed under his breath. “Always selling yourself short. You did make an impression, you know.”

I nodded. “Ah, yes. Like when you sit on one of those microfiber couches, and then when you get up, there’s an unflattering imprint of your ass cheeks.”

The fact that Azazel actually missed a step and stumbled a bit from laughing filled me with bubbly happiness.

He caught himself right quick, though, turning to me and pulling me to him with his arm slung around my waist. “These cheeks”—he grabbed and squeezed the anatomy in question with both hands—“are never unflattering.”

I melted into him just a little, partly from the way he pressed me to him, partly from the sensual promise in his eyes. “Smooth talker,” I whispered.

“For you? Always.”

And with that, he resumed pulling me along toward his personal quarters. Our personal quarters, from now on.

Just that thought had happiness bubbling in my chest, rivaling the building arousal in my core. Azazel moved with eagerness and determination, his every step confirming his impatience to get me somewhere private.

I couldn’t wait either. It’d been weeks since I’d felt his skin against mine, since I’d tasted him and had him inside me. The more we walked, the more I burned for him. The friction of my pants against my crotch as I moved became a tease, my intimate flesh already sensitive and hot.

Finally, Azazel veered for a set of intricately carved double doors. I’d barely paid attention to our surroundings, though now I noticed the hallway we’d been walking through was of gleaming black marble, decorated with gild-framed paintings of various scenes from mythology and expensive-looking vases and statues from ancient cultures.

Azazel pushed open the double doors with both hands—in such a quintessentially male way that it made me weak in the knees—and then grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. I only had a second of scanning the room before the doors fell shut behind me and Azazel had me pressed against the wall.

With a groan, he buried his face in my neck and inhaled deeply. I shuddered with pleasure, grabbing on to his armor-plated tunic.

“I could get drunk on your scent,” he muttered against my neck, his hot breath tickling me in the most delicious way.

Whatever reply had sat on the tip of my tongue evaporated as he nipped at me. Not a full bite to draw blood, but hard enough to make me gasp. Desire shot down from where he’d bitten me to the apex of my thighs, where my core already pulsed with arousal.

Stepping back, his eyes of molten silver heavy on me, he laid his entire hand around my throat and squeezed. Just strong enough to let me feel his dominance and claim over me.

“Mine,” he said roughly.

My nipples pebbled. Not just from my own lust at the way he was being possessive and bossy, but from what was coming over across the bond from him. Such deep pleasure at having me right here, in his grasp, all for himself.

Releasing me, he trailed a single finger down my throat to the neckline of my shirt, a teasing touch that sparked tingles. Regarding me with burning intensity, he softly said, “Open your pants.”

Holding his gaze, I did as he’d commanded.

His voice was a rough whisper. “Touch yourself.”

A throb of lust in my core. Inhaling on a shudder, I slowly slid my hand into my pants, my gaze still on him. My fingers brushed over my mound, swollen with arousal, then glided lower. A gasp escaped me as I touched my intimate flesh, slick from my juices.

Azazel’s eyes flashed, his power buzzing in the space between us. I could feel his own lust across the bond, yet he didn’t act on it, kept his energy under tight control. A growl in his voice, he said, “Pleasure yourself.”

My breath coming faster, I slid two fingers inside me, rubbing over my clit as I went. My hips moved instinctively against my hand, increasing the pressure and friction.

Watching me with rapt attention, his eyes darting between my face and my hips, Azazel laid his hand against my throat again. A moan slipped past my lips as he squeezed, the feel of his fingers on my neck making me even wetter.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Bring yourself closer. I want you on the edge.”

“I’m almost there,” I whispered.

He leaned in until his lips grazed mine, his hand still squeezing my neck. “Closer.”

I panted, my arousal now near the painful breaking point. My climax was just a few strokes of my fingers away.

His grasp around my neck became harder. His voice, on the other hand, was a soft caress. “Stop.”

“Azazel,” I gritted out, looking daggers at him.

“Didn’t you want to be a good girl?”

With a keening cry of protest, I paused. My chest heaved from my fast breaths, and my entire body ached from being denied my release.

His smile was unbelievably wicked. “Show me how wet you are.”

My core pulsing, I pulled my hand out and raised it between us. The light of the lamp on the wall glistened on the slickness that coated my fingers, and the musk of my arousal perfumed the air.

With a deep inhale, Azazel leaned forward, holding my gaze, and then closed his mouth over my fingers. When he sucked, it sent a zing of lust straight down between my thighs. He hummed in pleasure and appreciation and squeezed my neck again.

“Mine.” A harsh whisper, a claim, a promise.

When he kissed me, I tasted myself on his lips, and it fueled the wanton lust that still held me in a tight grip.

Nipping at my lower lip, he pulled back. “Now, let’s go straight to the source.”

The next second, he’d summoned my pants off me. I could barely gasp in surprise before he grabbed me around the hips, hoisted me up the wall and buried his face between my legs.

My head thunked back against the wall, my eyes fluttering closed as pleasure spiked through me. His skilled tongue delved inside me and his lips did unspeakable things to my sensitive flesh. I speared my fingers through his hair and pulled, writhing against him.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl,” he spoke against my hot, pulsing core, “I’ll give you a good reward.”

“Yes,” I hissed. “Please.”

His energy slid over my skin, a thousand licks of fire, all the way up to my breasts, where his power circled my hard nipples. I was panting, bucking against his mouth, seeking the pleasure he promised.

Closing his lips over my clit, he sucked.

My orgasm rolled through me with the force of a storm. Waves of bliss streamed out from my core, reinforced by the way he pinched my nipples with his power and lapped at me between my thighs.

Moaning, I pulled at his hair. “I need you inside me.”

He straightened and lowered me a little, until my hips aligned with his. No sooner had I wrapped my legs around his middle and grabbed on to his shoulders than he drove into me. Stars burst behind my eyes at the delicious erotic intrusion of his cock, stretching me just right.

He didn’t pause, didn’t wait for me to adjust—he took me with a roughness and ferocity that spoke of pent-up hunger and the need to claim me after weeks spent apart.

And I was all for it.

I reveled in his hard thrusts, in the way my hips slammed against the wall from the impact, and I relished the knowledge that, now that I was a demon, I could take much more of his unbridled lust than before. Back when I’d been human, I’d thought that I’d often managed to make him lose control and take me without restraint. Now, though, feeling the raw force with which he fucked me, I knew that he’d held back before.

Right here in this moment, he wasn’t holding anything back anymore.

Our moans and pants echoed in the room, and the air filled with the scent of sex and the buzzing charge of our powers. He rammed into me, driving my need and pleasure higher as I held on to him with an iron grip.

A crack sounded behind me, and then the wall gave a little.

Without breaking his pace, Azazel whirled us both around and pressed me against the adjoining wall. I grunted from the impact, then groaned when he hit that spot inside me.

The tension in me unraveled in a burst of pleasure, and I cried out as my climax rocked through me. Azazel fucked me harder, faster, and then he ground himself against me with a rough sound of relief as he came.

Our fast breaths mingled while we remained in this position for a moment, and a grin stole onto my face.

“What’s that for?” Azazel asked with a glint in his eyes.

“You’re breathing faster.”

He raised a brow.

“When I was human,” I said, curling my fingers into his silken hair, “you barely exerted yourself when we made love. Most of the time, your breathing didn’t even get faster.” I shrugged, that grin still on my face. “I just love the fact that now that I’m a demon, you seem to be able to let go more. ’Cause you know that you won’t break me.”

“That was a concern for me,” he admitted quietly after a few seconds.

“So you used to hold back.”

He nodded, his eyes drinking me in.

“And now you don’t have to anymore,” I whispered.

That glint in his eyes morphed into a wicked grin. “No, I don’t.” He moved his hips in a shallow thrust, and his still-hard cock made sparks of sensation erupt inside me. “And I think it’s time I showed you just how many times in a row we can do this as demons.”

I gasped as the barely banked desire in me flared into a blaze again at his movements, and then all I could do was cling to him as he made good on his promise.

Threat.

Whatever.

“It’s weird,” I said, swinging my legs back and forth while sitting on the parapet of the highest tower of Azazel’s imposing palace, looking out over the sprawl of the estate.

Far below, staff walked to and fro, hellhounds played and trained in the distance, and every once in a while, demons came flying in or took off from one of the courtyards or balconies, likely carrying messages back and forth between the palace and other parts of the territory, or maybe other archdemonacies.

Above, the sky churned with the usual storms, and the thunder rolling over the lands alternated with the intermittent howling of the hounds.

“What is?” Azazel asked, his wing flexing against mine in a casually intimate caress. He sat right next to me, keeping me company during one of his breaks as I enjoyed the view and the atmosphere.

I’d taken to coming here in my free time, flying up to this spot that let me survey most of the palace compound while I relished the wind whipping at my wings. I could never have done this when I’d been human. The threat of falling to my death had been too great. Now, though? I had two strong wings to let me soar to safety, and even should I crash to the ground, I’d survive. Battered and bruised, sure, but I’d make it.

I still marveled at that feeling.

And as a human, never would I have known the exquisite sensation of having my wings touch Azazel’s, of feeling his warmth and his power seep into my feathers and travel along highly sensitive nerves all the way to my core. He sometimes accused me of having developed a wing kink, but honestly, that was rich coming from him when he was the one who couldn’t keep his hands off my feathers at every opportunity.

“Not being involved in the whole Lilith thing anymore,” I answered Azazel’s question, clarifying my earlier statement.

“Didn’t you say you were fed up with searching for her?”

“Yeah, sure.” I shrugged. “It’s not that I miss that aspect. But the entire thing took up most of my life for months, and it was all so super important, you know, and I played a vital part in it, and there were all these meetings with Lucifer, and all these talks, and I felt responsible for so much of it, and I mean, he and I did work together closely for a while, and we spoke quite a lot, and now all of a sudden it’s done, it’s over, and we just left him there, and I don’t know, but it just feels wrong. It’s been a week since I told him I’d found her, and I don’t even know how he’s handling it now because we haven’t heard from him other than that Lilith is being guarded well and—” I blew out a breath. “It just doesn’t sit right with me.”

Azazel shifted so he fully faced me, his expression halfway between amused and incredulous. “You miss him.”

“What?” I gasped in outrage. “No! How did you get that impression?”

“Zoe,” he said with a chuckle. “I know you. Even without this insightful bond”—he gestured between us—“I’d be able to tell your mood and feelings by the tone of your voice and that expressive face of yours.”

“Expressive? What do you mean? I am a study in stoicism.” I did my best impression of a Botoxed-up person who’d lost all facial movement.

“It’s all right,” he said quietly, a serious note to his voice.

I glanced at him, undoubtedly losing control over that stoic mask I’d attempted.

“If you’ve come to like him a little,” he added.

I opened my mouth to contest that statement but found I couldn’t. Scrunching my brows, I sorted through the mess in my head. “He’s awful,” I said eventually.

Azazel nodded but didn’t say anything, likely sensing I wasn’t done verbalizing my thoughts.

“He’s petty and cruel,” I went on.

He nodded again, his gaze on the lightning-lit plains far below.

I pressed my lips together. “He did horrible things, both to you and to me.”

“True.”

“And yet I don’t hate him anymore,” I finished in a whisper. “I do like him, in a way.” My eyes widened in horror. “Oh, my God, how is that even possible?”

“Fungus growth,” Azazel said matter-of-factly.

I reared back and squinted at him. “I was about to say Stockholm syndrome, but okay.” Cocking my head, I added, “Wait, what do you mean?”

“He grew on you. Like you did on him.” His gaze was calculating, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You did it. You made him care about you. A feat not many have managed.”

I worried my lower lip between my teeth. “You seem awfully okay with all of this. Not just with me and Lucifer having some weird friendship thing going, but also just with him in general. Are you? Okay, that is.”

He turned to stare out over his estate again, the distant lightning overhead illuminating the harshly beautiful planes of his face. “The past few weeks,” he began, “have been interesting, to say the least. I’ve had ample time and opportunity to think.” He angled his head, the wind whipping at his silky black hair. “About many things, most of which have been forged and hardened by time and hurt and anger into a mold that seemed unchangeable. I’ve been holding on to that mold for the longest time, until it became part of my identity. A core belief.”

“But?” I asked quietly, watching him intently.

“I have seen a different side of him in the past couple of weeks, one that he’d never shown me before.” He shook his head, his gaze still fastened on some faraway point. “He’s been treating me the way I’d always wanted him to back when I’d been a youth at his court. I never thought I’d hear an apology from him, that I’d see genuine remorse in his eyes. To have him turn to me for assistance because he values my capabilities and considers me competent, that did something to me.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, my chest tight. “It doesn’t make up for all of it, though. Does it? He can’t just flip a switch and think it’ll erase what he did to you.”

“I don’t think he thinks that.” Jaw tight, he tracked the flight path of an incoming demon. “And no, it’s not enough in terms of amends. But it’s a start.” He was silent for a moment, the muscles in his shoulders and arms bulging as he braced his hands on the parapet on either side of his hips. “And I recently learned,” he continued, his voice rough, “that nothing tastes as bitter as the regret over a lost chance at reconciliation.”

I twitched, knowing exactly what he referred to—the death of his father, Azrael. Just when the option of rebuilding that burned bridge had appeared, just when Azrael had revealed that he did indeed still care about Azazel and had been trying to make amends, he’d been killed. And with his death, all hope of reconciliation had vanished, slipping through Azazel’s fingers like fine sand before he could grasp it.

“After thousands of years,” he went on, his fingers digging into the stone, “my father had a change of heart, wanted to make amends and rebuild what he’d broken. Only, his efforts were cut short. And I never got to make that change of heart for myself, not until after he’d died. And now I cannot rebuild anything from my side. I cannot work with him to navigate a new relationship beyond the hurt and the anger. All I can do is grieve him—and what we could have had.” He faced me then, his eyes glowing silver, such deep, deep pain in their depths. “I will not squander the chance at salvaging another broken relationship when it now presents itself. I do not want to add to the mountain of regrets should this opportunity, too, be cut short.”

My breath hitching, I grabbed his hand and squeezed, emotion welling inside me.

“I could linger in my calcified anger and hatred for him,” Azazel said quietly. “And then what would that do for me? How would that help?” He turned his hand over and properly grasped mine in return. “No. I choose to change. Lucifer wants to right his past wrongs? I welcome his efforts. Let him work for it. Sins such as his will not be atoned for in a day. But we’re immortal; we have nothing but time and patience for redemption.” His expression was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen on him. “And I choose to give him the time to prove his sincerity.”

“My God,” I murmured. “I love you.”

Leaning in for a kiss, driven by the violent surge of affection for this remarkable male that was mine, all mine , I ended up smacking air instead of his lips. Stupefied, I blinked at him. He’d leaned back just far enough to evade my kiss, pinning me with a stern look—but for the glint in his eyes.

“Who?” he asked with the slightest growl.

Huffing a laugh under my breath, I hung my head for a second, then peered up at him and fluttered my lashes. “My marvelous, glorious Azazel ,” I crooned. “I love you.”

His smile was like the first glimmer of dawn, and then his hand was around the nape of my neck and he pulled me to him with just the right amount of dominance to make my insides melt. Our mouths met in a kiss that was slow and sensual and full of devotion, the kind that stopped the world and threatened to make me forget not only what we’d just talked about, but my name to boot.

So, when he pulled back eventually and murmured, “Why?” against my lips, I struggled to remember what he was referring to.

My expression must have spoken volumes, because Azazel cocked a half grin and elaborated, “What brought about this sudden burst of love for me? My not wanting to strangle my grandfather anymore?”

Smiling, I shook my head. “First of all, my love for you is always there, but sometimes I feel the need to express it more than at other times. And second, it’s because you’re incredibly mature. And vulnerable, yet willing to share it with me. You have this inner strength, you’re not afraid to grow and change, you reflect on yourself and on others, and then you make decisions that are so well thought through. You’re willing to listen and to adjust your stance based on what you learn. And you’re open with me about all of it. You’re an amazing male, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner. A better mate.” I grasped his hand and kissed his palm. “And I will keep telling you I love you at the most random times, because you deserve to hear it. You deserve to be reminded of it often and loudly.”

What swept over from him through the bond was so violently breathtaking, so bone-shatteringly strong in its affection, it made me sway even while sitting down. Eyes of storms held me spellbound while the hand I was grasping moved to gently, oh-so-gently, wrap around my throat in a sensual caress, and he leaned forward until our foreheads touched.

“If what he felt for Lilith,” he whispered, his power stroking over mine, “is even but a fraction of what you mean to me, then I shall never fault him for wanting to lay waste to Earth in revenge for her death. For should I ever lose you, I’d tear the worlds apart in my grief. There would be no life without you in it.”

“ Azazel .” I speared my fingers into his silken hair, folding my wings to wrap around us both. “You could just say, ‘I love you, too.’ No need to threaten cosmic devastation on my behalf.”

He lifted his chin and regarded me out of half-lidded eyes, the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Nah,” he said after a moment. “What kind of demon male would I be if I didn’t woo my beloved with darkly poetic promises of violence in her name?”

I laughed softly and went to straddle him, when Azazel tensed and whipped his head to the side. I followed his gaze to where a demon approached us in a landing maneuver. I didn’t recognize this female, though that didn’t mean much, seeing as Azazel now commanded such a vast number of demons that I had no hope of keeping up.

Azazel, however, didn’t act like he did with messengers from among his own people. Holding himself with a lot more formality, he rose to greet the demon, putting himself subtly in front of me.

The female touched down on the tower roof and immediately went down on one knee. “Your Highness,” she said with her head bowed. “I bring a message from His Grace.”

I stiffened. Azazel held out his hand, and the demon laid an envelope in his palm, then retreated with a bow.

“Dismissed,” Azazel told her.

“Your Highness,” the female said, then sketched a deep bow to me as well. “My lady.”

The messenger turned and took off from the tower again, flying back the way she’d come.

Azazel had meanwhile opened the letter and read it.

“What is it?” I asked, rising on tiptoes to peer at the note.

“A summons.” His thundercloud eyes met mine. “Lucifer wants to see us.”