11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Belial

I deserved a damn medal for resisting the urge to chase after Rayven and bend her over again, maybe this time in front of my suits of armor in the west wing. I was possessive over my little human, but fucking her in front of the souls languishing around my castle was oddly satisfying. Turned out, I liked showing off my most precious possession.

Maybe one day, I’d take her in front of the mirror I used to communicate with my brothers and let Leviathan watch. It wouldn’t help convince my brothers this wasn’t the same kind of infatuation I had with Catherine, that what I had with Rayven was different. Still, it might just be worth it to see the Lord of Envy’s scales turn an even deeper shade of green.

I leaned against the table I’d just bent her over, one hand flat against the veneered surface while I popped my index and middle fingers past my lips. I watched myself in the mirror as I licked the last traces of my mate clean from my flesh.

Just days ago, I couldn’t stand to look at the bare face of my lesser form, not without my mask.

Now, it seemed odd I’d been so ashamed of it for so long. What was there to be ashamed of when a woman like Rayven looked at me like she had?

Catherine had been wrong.

I wasn’t hideous. And even if I was, was it such a horrible thing when Rayven found my ancient scars attractive?

Holding eye contact with my reflection, I dropped my hand and slipped it into my pants. My digits curled around my base, and my lips curved when I found the outer metal of my cuff still wet with her.

Smearing her cream down my shaft, I stroked myself, using her as lubricant.

I was aware that the souls seeking refuge in the various pieces of furniture, paintings, and knick-knacks were watching me with bated breath, and frankly, I reveled in the attention. I wanted every soul in my realm to know what she did to me.

Everything about Rayven held me captive—her scent, her taste, her bratty little mouth, those eyes and the way they silently begged me for all the things she didn’t dare say out loud. Her smooth flesh with its moon-pale color and the way it stained red beneath my rough hands.

And I hadn’t even explored every part of her yet. I still needed to fuck that tight ass.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d be her first lover there. That pathetic mate of hers from before didn’t seem like the type to enjoy her in such a manner. I wasn’t sure how many others she’d been with, but I doubted she’d let them venture there.

The thought had my fingers tightening, choking my shaft as my pace turned frantic. My brows twisted, my jaw tightening as the expression on my face took on something wolfish, hunger etching every crease, every scar.

“You’re fucking mine, Rayven. You sold yourself to Death, and now, I’ll own all of you. Every inch of you. Your soul. Your heart. Your pussy. Your everything. It’s all mine. Mine! Down to your very marrow.”

My words came out in short, harsh breaths as I chased my release like a rabid dog in heat.

The corridor, despite it being filled with dozens, if not hundreds, of lost souls, was quiet, filled only with my own mutterings and labored breathing…

Until a voice from nearby—the mirror on the wall where I’d forced Rayven to watch herself be taken from behind—spoke. “My L–Lord. Please…”

The ornate mirror sounded so eager, it must have been torture keeping quiet while I had my way with my little queen-to-be. It seemed its patience had run dry. “I’ve been waiting so long for Judgement. So long. I–I don’t even remember my own name, My Lord. I must find peace. Rest, wherever that might be.”

I gritted my teeth, anger flaring at the interruption. Keeping my grip anchored to my cock, I swiped at the mirror, knocking it off its hook with my free hand.

“How dare you interrupt me, soul?”

It bounced off the table, shattering the glass and sending shards everywhere before it clattered to the ground. The soul slithered from the ruined object in a wisp of smoke, dissipating to find refuge in something else.

The images of Rayven’s naked body, her face contorted with pleasure, the sound of her moans soft in my ear—it all shattered along with the mirror at my feet.

I laced myself back into my pants with a growl and trudged down the hall in search of Rayven. I’d had a feeling pleasuring myself wouldn’t sate the fire roaring in my core anyway.

I only felt at rest when I was inside her. It was for that reason, aside from her beauty and her addicting mouth, that I couldn’t get enough of her.

My addiction to the mortal female was worsening by the hour. In three days’ time, my anger had turned to curiosity, and curiosity had morphed into ball-obliterating obsession.

I needed her, now and always.

I’d chain her to my bed—hells, I’d chain her to my fucking cock for the rest of eternity if it meant abating this gnawing need to have her body wrapped around mine.

Luckily, finding her wouldn’t be much of an issue, even in the never-ending halls of my labyrinthian castle. The collar around her neck, or rather, the gem affixed to it that had once belonged to Catherine, was a tracking spell.

I’d released her from the chain tethering her to my throne, but she was still very much on a leash. She always would be.

It was not only for her protection, but for my own sanity.

This way, I’d always know where my little human was.

I followed the tracking spell, its magic calling to me through the twisting hallways, venturing further and further away from the throne room.

Why had she fled this deep into the castle? Maybe she’d gotten lost. She’d learn her way around eventually, and as the castle grew more comfortable with her, it would help her get where she meant to go.

“I know you're close, Rayven…” I drawled as I entered an old study that hadn’t been used in decades. The tracking amulet was so close, its magic had the air buzzing. “Why are you in here? Are we playing a game of hide and seek? Because I will find you. And when I do…”

I wrenched open the door to a large wooden storage cabinet, expecting to find her hiding inside.

Pure, unholy fury strangled me in its unforgiving grip as I took in the collar lying at the bottom of the cabinet. The metal had been snapped in half—it was sealed with magic, so she wouldn’t have been able to break it on her own.

I spun around, searching the room for clues as to what had happened to her.

That was when I smelled them . My brothers . The stench of Asmodeus’ bull breath and the metallic tang of Mammon’s iron still clung to the air. There was a whiff of something else too.

I stepped closer to the old desk in the middle of the study. The dust had been disturbed by a smeared impression of Rayven’s breasts.

Rage ignited in my veins as I took in the scene, putting the pieces together on what had happened here.

Someone had bent her over this desk, and she’d struggled.

A few droplets of dark liquid staining the desk’s veneer caught my eye. I swept a finger through it and popped it in my mouth. Belphagor’s blood.

My teeth ground together as sinful rancor spread through me, turning my insides to ash.

They took her.

My brothers had kidnapped my precious treasure right from under my nose.

* * *

The oversized doors to the throne room slammed open as I burst inside, sending suits of armor flying, their pieces scattering across the floor. The music halted, the dancing guests coming to an abrupt stop as they whirled to face me.

I’d entered as the Lord of Bones, the form that demanded the respect and fear of every soul unfortunate enough to be present.

My rage was palpable. Every being here could taste it, radiating from me and lacing the air like poison.

I stormed through the crowd, and it parted for me, no one daring to stand in my way.

The fire of my eyes leapt in my eye sockets as I searched the throne room for my brothers.

“Where is she?” My voice thundered through the silent hall. “Where is Rayven?”

The guests turned to look around, muttering to one another with confusion in their eyes. They didn’t know who Rayven was. I hadn’t properly introduced her. I hadn’t crowned her.

I should have when I had the chance. Maybe then, they’d give a damn.

My fists balled at my sides. I’d make them give a damn, whether she wore my crown or not.

“Find her! Find the demon lords, and you’ll find her!”

Everyone stood still, staring blankly like the helpless sheep they were. Useless, every last one of them.

I roared my anguish, my arm swiping angrily at my side and knocking down a demon with a half dozen horns sticking from his skull. He crashed to the ground, hard enough for everyone in the room to hear, for everyone to take a step back in fear.

Good. They should be scared. They should be terrified . That was what they got for not caring that the only thing I’d ever loved was gone. Ripped away from me, right from under my nose.

“What are you all standing around for? Find my queen!” My demand came out so raw and guttural, the castle itself responded. The walls quaked and my bone chandeliers swayed, raining down dust like ash after a volcanic eruption. The Styx splashed up, crimson water washing over the marble floors.

Women screamed, lifting their skirts as the magical fluid containing lost souls soaked into their shoes, panic erupting through the room that had been filled with merriment and music minutes ago. The souls who were unlucky enough to be sprayed with crimson were tangled in the river’s blood magic and dragged into the river while they desperately kicked and clawed and fought to escape.

They could all be dragged down to the ninth layer for all I cared.

From the chaos, a skeleton hurried forward. “Lord Belial! You’re scaring the guests!”

My attention snapped to the woman, the purest anger snaking through my veins. “You. You were supposed to watch her! That was the entire reason I rescued you from Asmodeus’ clutches in the first place!”

I reached for Holga, but instead, I snatched the collar of my librarian who’d darted in front of her, using his skeletal body as a thin shield. “My Lord, please! We thought she was with you!”

Training my flaming gaze on Cecil and his toothy eye sockets, I released my hold on him. I nodded, my hatred turning inward. He was right. I was supposed to be watching her.

It was my job to keep her safe, my job to protect her from anything that could do her harm aside from me, and I’d failed.

“W-we can find the other demon lords, My Lord,” Holga stammered from over Cecil’s shoulder.

“No…” It was useless. I knew they weren’t here. They weren’t anywhere in my realm. They’d kidnapped her, and I was the fool who’d left her alone long enough for them to do it.

“Tell the guests to get out. The party is over,” I said as I slowly backed up toward the entrance. “I…I have to go.”

Cecil looked puzzled, his head tilted to the side. “Go where, my Lord?”

“Down.” I turned my back on both him and Holga, unholy fury once again bubbling in my veins. “I’m going to bring my queen back and make these thieves pay for what they’ve done.”