1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Belial

Every second I spent away from my human treasure was torture, my own personal hell. Images of her, of us , replayed in my mind constantly.

While I should have been focused on other things—like tonight’s masquerade ball—I kept losing myself in daydreams to find her.

“It hurts being this close to you,” Rayven’s voice echoed through my skull.

My hands tightened on her hips, claws scoring her perfect, moon-pale flesh.

Her body trembled as I pushed my cock inside her. She told me she hated me, even as she moaned and begged for more. Looking so bleeding perfect in my bed, naked and bent over, with her pretty ass pressed against my pelvis, her pussy stretching to take all of me.

“Do you like the pain?”

Weeping Hells. I’d never forget the way her pulse lunged at the question, how I could feel it down deep inside her, tapping out a frantic beat against my cock.

“Yes…” she whimpered.

“That’s what I thought,” I hummed, kissing her nape, her throat, her mouth. Savoring her heat, her filthy little noises, her scent, her everything.

The scene slipped away at the sound of a loud cough, the kind meant to get one’s attention. Once again, I found myself sitting at the desk in my study.

“My Lord? Did you hear my question?”

I lifted my skull from my palm, blazing eyes boring into the skeletal servant standing before me. I’d forgotten he was there. “What?”

He flinched at my scathing tone. It was obvious I didn’t like being pulled from my daydream.

“Forgive me, My Lord. I was asking if you’ve seen the decorations I selected for the throne room. I hope you approve. We previously discussed an indigo and silver theme. However, I decided to be bold and chose a more royal blue hue to complement…”

The servant’s voice faded again as my thoughts drifted back to Rayven. I was supposed to be proceeding with the next part of my plan—the ball where I’d announce my new queen.

But I couldn’t get that little grave robber out of my goddamn mind. How could I? Had there ever been a mortal so stubborn and fearless? Where Catherine—my last human pet—had cowered and cried, Rayven fought tooth and nail against me from the moment I dragged her to Hell.

When she’d raided the Petherick family tomb, Catherine’s final resting place, she’d been an annoyance. A thief in need of punishment.

Tormenting her had been fun. Poor thing actually thought she’d had a chance at leaving my realm, especially when I’d pretended my lesser form was just a reaper looking to help her escape.

I never intended for things to get this thoroughly twisted. I never intended for her to turn into a full-blown obsession.

My brothers would think this was just Catherine all over again, but no.

Rayven was different. She wanted me. She’d seen past my mask. She’d felt my scars—and she’d fucking smiled and pulled me close—when Catherine had only screamed and shoved me away.

How could I not be addicted to the way she looked at me when I’d been starved of that kind of affection for so long?

My desk scraped against the stone floor as I snapped to my feet.

The servant jumped back to avoid being knocked over by the heavy piece of furniture. “M-My Lord?”

I left the skeleton behind without a second glance, storming from my study, cloak lashing angrily behind me with my hurried strides. I couldn’t be bothered with boring masquerade drivel when there was one thing so prominently on my mind.

I needed to see her, to feel her closeness, to sate the feral nerves clawing through me.

It didn’t take me long to get to my room. I stood there in the doorway, breath frozen in my lungs as I watched Rayven sleep, tucked into the center of my massive bed.

She was mine now, in her entirety. There on the cliff, she’d given me her soul, given me total control over her.

She’d done it because I told her it would give me the ability to save her from the Lord of Bones. I’d lied. I’d lied so I wouldn’t lose her.

When she found out I’d tricked her, that I was the monster she’d spent the last three days in Hell trying to outrun, she’d hate me.

The dagger of guilt that appeared the moment she passed out in my arms on the cliff sank deeper into my chest.

I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with her and hold her against me. I wanted so desperately to take her in this form—she’d be a delicate little doll in my hands, and I’d take pleasure in watching her struggle to take my monster cock.

Too bad the All Hallows’ Eve Ball was only a handful of hours away. There was still so much to do, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus on any of the details. She was the only thing my mind would entertain.

I should let her rest. I growled to myself as I watched her turn restlessly in her sleep. She already had so many burdens. Soon, she’d wake and discover yet another, that I’d tricked her into becoming my queen.

“Belial…”

Every muscle in my monstrous body clenched when my little human moaned my name in her sleep. Fuck.

I was at the side of the bed in a blink, looming over her as she tossed and turned. “Belial, let me see…”

Was she dreaming of our moment on the cliffside, when I’d removed my mask and revealed my marred face?

I shifted from my true form to the lesser shape she’d come to know as her ally and sat on the edge of the bed. Normally, I’d summon my mask with my magic, but I kept my face bare as I reached for her hand and guided it to my cheek.

“Here I am, my treasure,” I muttered, directing her fingertips over my scared lips.

“So—beautiful. So fucking…” She sighed, soft and breathy, then fell still as peace found her in her dreams. “Beautiful.”

I pulled the covers back to tuck her arm at her side and froze. She was wearing a nightgown and nothing else—a very thin nightgown.

When I’d brought her back from the labyrinth after claiming her soul, I’d had Holga change her for bed. Now, I regretted not doing it myself.

I needed to see her again, needed to feel her soft skin against my calloused hands. I needed to trace her curves, feel her heat, sink myself into her molten warmth.

My hand cupped her breast over her nightgown, the hard metal of her piercing pressing into my palm, the thin linen of her dress barely a barrier at all. It would be so easy to tear. She was under my sleep spell, so she wouldn’t wake.

Even if I tore her out of her clothes.

Even if I parted her legs and slipped inside her.

I could unload every drop of cum I’d been saving for her, and she still wouldn’t wake. Hell, I could shift and take her in my truest form, the one she hated with every bone in her body.

My cock grew hard at the dark thought, considering it for a moment before dismissing it with a shake of my head. The charms and chains dangling from my antlers clinked together with the motion. “What are you doing to me, little human?”

I cupped her thighs, one in each hand, and slowly slid my grasp up, guiding the hem of her gown over her hips.

No undergarments. Perfect.

Lifting one hand from her thigh, I combed my fingers through the patch of hair between her legs. Then, I spread my fingers out in a V, parting her labia.

“Would you like me to touch you, Rayven?”

She twitched in her sleep, murmuring a garbled yes. Her inner walls flexed, as if in invitation. Unable to resist temptation a moment longer, I pushed a finger inside her.

An involuntary moan dropped from my lips as I slipped in easily. So hot. So tight.

Her body seemed to suck me in, wanting more of me, even as her mind was blissfully unaware of the intrusion.

I pulled my finger out and held it up to inspect. Thick beads of her juices dripped down the digit and glistened in the candlelight.

“So wet,” I mused with a wicked chuckle. “Even when you’re unconscious.”

“My Lord?”

I turned to see a skeletal woman hovering in the doorway. She flinched, catching my scathing expression just before my mask appeared on my face in a burst of glimmering blue magic.

“M-my apologies. I should have announced myself,” she stammered. If she’d had skin, she would have been covered head to toe in a full-bodied blush.

“Yes, you should have.” I smoothed Rayven’s gown back down, pulled the covers up to her chest, and stood. “Whatever it is, it better be worth the interruption, Holga.”

“I brought the dress for Miss Rayven to wear to the ball tonight.” The skeletal remains of the old witch shuffled into my bedchamber, holding out a white ballgown with the puffiest sleeves I’d ever seen.

It was beautiful, exactly the kind of dress I would have liked to see her in, but I shook my head.

“No, not that one. Rayven will hate it.”

Holga’s gaping eye sockets bore into me. Skeletons couldn’t make facial expressions due to the lack of skin and pretty much everything else, but after all these years as the Lord of Bones, I could read them just as well as any living creature. Her confusion was evident, yet she was too afraid to say as much.

I sighed, sweeping a hand impatiently between my antlers, combing through my unkempt hair. “I know I like my maidens in white, but Rayven prefers black. Bring her something darker.”

My attention slid back to the sleeping woman, my eyes dropping to the collar around her throat with the skull pendant above the delicate hollow of her throat. Its red eyes shone like drops of blood, tears for the sins that landed her here, in my realm. “Perhaps with a scarlet trim.”

Holga nodded in my periphery. “Of course, My Lord.”

My head whipped back to pin the skeleton with a pointed look. She could don the sweetest of tones, but it didn’t fool me. The disdain bleeding from her was thick enough to choke on. “You disapprove of what I did.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, My Lord.”

“Don’t play stupid, witch.” I bared my teeth, and she flinched again. “You know I claimed her soul. She is mine. Pity her all you’d like, but I own her now. There’s no changing it. Don’t bother trying to help her escape like you did with Catherine. There’s no escaping me, not even in death.” Especially not in death.

Summoning some courage, she squared her bony shoulders and lifted her chin. “She gave you her soul thinking Belial would save her from the Lord of Bones. You’ll break her heart when she learns the truth.”

“She will be Queen of the Underworld. She doesn’t need a heart.”

“Says the King of Death who’s obsessed with life. You cannot fool me, nor will you fool her for much longer. And when she learns the truth, she’ll never let you touch her again.”

I stormed toward the servant, morphing into the Lord of Bones. The twin flames in my eye sockets jumped as I sneered down at Holga, who shrank back against my armoire. My jaws snapped, making her jump, and I let out a hollow laugh as deep as the ninth circle. “She won’t have a choice.”

Leaving Holga to collect herself, I turned my heel and charged toward my chamber door. “She’ll wake soon. Tell her nothing. And make sure she loves her dress.”