Chapter Twenty-Three

Hawthorne

My gaze sweeps across the barren land. This part of Hell is an utter wasteland filled with jagged rocks and ash-laden soil. Nothing could grow here, and yet, here we are determined to help that.

Tiny shoots push through the soil, evidence of the lack of minerals. They are shriveled and yellowing. Aamon stands beside me, his body aglow with a dark magic, but despite the darkness of this realm and him, he appears radiant.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Aamon asks if his voice is measured and calm. The gravity of what the two of us are about to do hangs between us. "You know this pact will tie you to Hell, and it will bind you to me."

I meet his eyes with quiet determination. "I want this, Aamon, and even if you do not believe me, I want you."

The mere thought of being away from him for months at a time gnaws at me, but I understand the necessity of it. My living body cannot sustain staying in this place for long without losing my life.

He grabs my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

From the shadows, Lilith and Luce approach the two of us, their presence commanding as ever. Lilith's crimson lips curl in a smile that barely hides her amusement. Luce, even with all his measured grace, appears, for once, present and alert. His eyes glow a molten gold as they lock onto the two of us. Despite their mischievous nature, they agreed to Aamon's terms, allowing me to reside here in Hell during the bitter winter months in the mortal realm. However, there are conditions I must meet.

Lucifer steps forward, his voice echoing across the barren field. "A blood pact," he says, with authority. "We are to bind Thorne to Hell for the winter season, just like your silly Greek story. It's only fair. There's a lot of work to do."

Lilith nods, her gaze flickering between the three of us with a crooked smirk still upon her face. "These pacts are not easy to break unless we kill one or both of you. As we both know, I'm not above it."

There is nothing I know more than that Lilith is not one to be crossed, and Luce will follow suit if he feels sure it's advantageous to step in. Glancing at Aamon, a sense of warmth and utter calm overtakes me. His expression is calm but determined, and his eyes hold no ounce of fear—only a quiet resolve that I have come to admire. He is ready.

"We are prepared." Aamon reaches out, firmly grasping my hand in his as he pulls me closer to his side. "This is necessary, and not just for Hell. Thorne and I will see this through."

The two of them laugh and shake their heads. "I can't believe we are binding you two together in holy matrimony," Lilith says, snorting. "How rich."

I feel no trepidation about what this means for us. Aamon is to be my husband, and once I pass on, my rightful place will be here in Envy with him. My soul belongs to him and him alone. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, I glance his way, smiling. He is mine, and I belong to him.

"Very well then," Lucifer says, snapping his fingers as a ceremonial athame appears in his hand. The blade is dark obsidian and etched with runes that subtly glow in the dim morning light. I feel the familiar thrum as it's handed to me first.

"Make the cut for one another."

Aamon extends his hand toward me without a moment of hesitation, baring his palm to me. My eyes search for any sign he may refuse, but there is none. Instead, I see behind his golden eyes a glint of admiration. Slowly, I bring the blade to his skin, drawing a deep cut across his palm. The bright red liquid blooms across his skin, pulsing with magic.

As I pass the athame to Aamon, I watch as he brings it across my pale skin. The sting of pain forces me to bite at my lip as a groan closer to ecstasy than pain threatens to bubble from my throat. We press our palms together, and the magic envelops us in an electric rope. It swirls with color, from basalt to emerald and finally settles on a geranium pink.

As it mingles, I feel a surge of power between us intensify. There are voices surrounding the two of us, whispering melodious chants, racking my head with pain. The air hums with energy, and the ground beneath my feet pulses rhythmically.

I look at my husband momentarily, sensing our shared purpose thrumming like a living thing. "Repeat after me," Aamon says, his voice low and steady. "I, Thorne, bind myself to the land of Hell, to nurture it and my husband. In return, I shall receive strength and wisdom from the land and from his oath to me."

There is a warmth in his tone, and I find myself repeating the oath aloud. The power resonates deeply through me, and I add, "With this pact, we will create a place of peace, sustenance and growth for all who live in Envy."

As Lilith and Luce begin to clap their hands, it sounds so far away as the earth trembles beneath us in response to our oaths to one another and the energy between our blood. The barren land responds eagerly, begging me to touch it, to release the building pressure.

"Well, thank heaven that's over." Lilith's smile gleams with satisfaction, and she grabs Luce's hand in hers. "The pact and marriage are complete."

Luce's voice is a touch more serious, though there is a magical twinkle dancing in his eyes. "You are now bound to Hell, and to Aamon's care. During the winter months you'll live here with him, helping Envy regain its food sources." He pauses and flashes a dazzling smile. "Until you piss off Lilith and she undoubtedly regrets her decision. I promise to keep her from bothering you both too often."

A chuckle worms itself from my lips at the two of them, whose motives I have yet to understand. "I will be on my best behavior."

"Don't make me regret it, pretty boy," she purrs and winks at me playfully. "For now, I suppose you get to live…"

I don't miss the way Aamon growls with annoyance, but he remains silent as they banter with me. I sense he's still unsure if they will uphold their bargain with the two of us. Somehow I know they mean what they say. The conversation I had with them proves they truly care about their people and Aamon, even if in the past, their methods were not the most productive. They truly mean well, though they are the most chaotic duo.

"Well, okay then. We will leave you to say your goodbyes." There is no mistake that the tone shifts in Luce's voice, or the way Lilith's eyes lower to the ground.

The painful tug on my heart aches. Even with the pact settled, I know what this means. For the next six months, I will be without Aamon, though it will not be in vain. I shall use every moment to practice my magic and remain focused on gaining my strength until I return again.

Lilith and Luce bid us farewell one more time, fading slowly into the shadows until just Aamon and I remain in the barren field. I find myself unable to tear my gaze from him. He is more than just my captor, my ally or marquis—he is my husband, and part of me in ways I have never imagined.

"We've done it," I whisper, feeling a strange sense of devastation lingering in my stomach.

Aamon smiles, though I see the bittersweet edge in it. "You will be back when winter comes, but for now you have to leave."

The pull of the mortal realm was already tugging at me, and had been for a few nights now. I knew that, once the cold winds blew, I would return, but in the meantime, I needed to leave. "I wish I could stay."

Aamon wrenches me into his arms, enveloping me in a firm embrace. "I wish I could keep you for a lifetime, Thorne, but your mortal life has to be lived to its fullest."

Tears well in my eyes; a sob shudders from my chest. "I will live it every day and practice my magic. I will continue to help others with this new gift you've given me."

Aamon tips my chin up to him and softly presses his lips to mine. His tongue slips inside my mouth, and my eyes close in response. A quiet certainty settles in my chest knowing I am irrevocably in love with Aamon. I am bound by magic, but more than that, every fiber of my soul belongs to him.

"I love you," I say when our mouths break apart.

Aamon peers into my eyes, smiling softly with so much adoration and love that I surely feel it in my bones. "I love you too, Thorne Grimwood."

With one more farewell kiss, eventually we know it's time for me to leave. A portal similar to the first I was pulled through materializes in a swirling vortex of shadow. As I step inside, I watch as Aamon fades from view, a sense of renewed longing settling in my chest. I know this is only the beginning, and winter will come again. When it does, we will continue to build the future we started together.

For now, my deal with the demon Marquis holds a special place in my heart, and I cannot wait to see him once more.

Thank you for reading My Deal With The Demon Marquis !