2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Rayven

Blurry images swirled through my groggy mind as I reached for consciousness, none of them clear enough to grasp. I couldn’t remember falling asleep, but I did remember Belial taking off his mask to show me his face. He was more handsome than I’d imagined—with his sharp jawline, aquiline nose, and deep scars stretching down to the bone.

Then, he kissed me, a kiss so hot and possessive, it was like he was branding my soul with his lips.

Belial.

With a sharp gasp, my eyes flew open. Blinking frantically, I expected to find myself on the cliff’s edge, the black ocean crashing against the jagged rocks below. Instead, I found myself in Belial’s four-poster bed, staring up at the familiar canopy, the dusty smell of the castle assaulting my senses. The worst part? Belial was nowhere in sight.

My heart lurched into my throat, and I frantically looked at my wrist. There were two marks— only two.

I already knew I wasn’t getting out of here, but my third and final day wasn’t up yet. That meant there was still time before the Lord of Bones came for me—before he came for us.

I had no clue what Belial’s plan was to deal with his Lord. There was no way the King of Limbo was just going to give me to his ferryman, right? Chaining me to his bed my first night here was one thing, but he wouldn’t accept our permanent bond.

The Lord of Bones would never let me go. I knew it deep down, despite Belial’s flippant confidence.

Judging by the murky daylight filtering in through the heavy curtains over the window, there were a couple of hours left before sundown.

Why had he brought me back to the castle? Right under the Lord’s nose…

I had to trust Belial. He’d helped me through the labyrinth. He’d protected me. When he brought me back to his room to rest and bathe, he’d shown me the book where my father’s soul rested and shared pieces of his life I’d known nothing about.

He’d even removed his mask to show me his face.

All it had cost me was my soul.

I’d do it again.

After everything we’d been through, after everything he’d done for me, I’d give him my soul all over again and probably more.

Fucking hell. Where was he? If he insisted on taking me back to his bedroom, he could have at least done me the courtesy of being in his bed when I woke.

My dreams of him had been…vivid. Like he was really touching me.

I sat up and whipped my head around, searching for the ferryman. Movement caught my eye near the wardrobe, and my heart jumped with a whisper of hope, but when the figure came into clear view, my stomach sank.

It was Holga.

She was no longer wearing her tattered dress, but a floor-length, plum-colored gown that clung tightly to her ribcage and spilled in a wave around her feet. Her silver hair was pulled back neatly into a bun, and for the first time, I could almost imagine how she was in life: poised, regal, serious. She looked good—well, as good as a skeleton could look.

Panic slammed back into me a second later.

“Where is he, Holga?” I asked, throwing back the blanket. Someone had removed my boots, dressed me, and tucked me in. My feet hit the floor before I could stop them, and I was marching toward the middle of the room. “Where is Belial?”

The witch shifted, her bony fingers clicking as she wrung her fleshless hands together. “He’s not here, child.”

I stilled, fear zipping up my spine, and a painful weight sank in my chest. “What happened?”

She didn’t answer. Somehow, she didn’t need skin for me to read her face. How could bone be so expressive?

“Holga! Tell me!” I snapped, losing my patience. “Where is he? Did the Lord of Bones take him?”

Holga heaved a sigh and tilted her head to the side. If she’d had eyes, I imagined they’d be full of pity, but as it was, the empty sockets stared at me lifelessly, making my hair stand on end. What did she know that I didn’t? “I…I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

She was lying. I just knew it.

The Lord of Bones probably commanded her not to say anything.

“Tell me, please.” I grabbed her hands, pleading with her. “Nothing can happen to him.”

“That man doesn’t deserve your concern, Lady Rayven…”

My chest tightened at the thought of the Lord of Bones punishing his ferryman. My ferryman. My mate. “Can you at least tell me he’s safe?”

“We must get you ready,” the witch insisted, shaking my hands free as she dodged yet another question.

My brows knitted together. “Ready? For what?”

“The masquerade ball.”

With a sweep of her bony hand, she gestured to the wardrobe, and that was when I finally noticed a billowing red and black gown hanging from the front of it. It was a goth girl’s dream dress, with blood-red fabric that shimmered beneath a layer of intricate black lace. The corset top was flecked with tiny black crystals that glinted subtly in the dim light, and it had short, off-the-shoulder bubble sleeves.

It was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.

Too bad I didn’t plan on wearing it.

I gave an adamant shake of my head. “Yeah, I’m gonna pass. Not really a party person. I’m supposed to be in the labyrinth anyway, not here. My time isn’t up. If you can find Belial for me…”

Crouching, I scanned the floor for my boots and found them tucked neatly under the side of the bed.

Next, I needed to find Belial’s dagger earring. All I had to do was spill a drop of my blood to summon him. Together, we could hash out a plan on what to do about the Lord of Bones.

Maybe we could escape back to the human realm and lie low together.

Or take his ferry and travel the Styx for a while.

I marched to the bathroom in search of the earring. It was the last place I’d had it, when I’d stabbed him for nearly drowning me. Getting on my hands and knees, I probed under the clawfoot tub. When my fingers found the tiny blade, I pulled it out with a triumphant grin.

Holga filled the doorway and flew into the room when I put the blade to my wrist. “Lady Catherine, no! Not again!”

The terror in her tone made me freeze, the dagger’s tip piecing my flesh enough for a fat bead of ruby liquid to slip down my skin and fall on the floor. Hearing Catherine’s name was like a splash of icy water, slicing through my frantic thoughts. She too had tried to escape the Lord of Bones’ castle…by whatever means necessary. But she’d been unsuccessful.

I refused to follow in her footsteps.

However, seeing me like this had clearly given Holga a bad flashback. “Forgive me, I…”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt myself.” I held up the tiny blade for her to see. “This dagger is Belial’s. Spilling my blood with its blade summons him.”

Holga grabbed a hand towel that sat folded on a table beside the wash basin and pressed it to my arm with a disapproving hiss. “That’s dark demon magic, and you’d do well not to invoke it.”

I blinked. “Belial won’t hurt me. I know you don’t like the Lord of Bones, and I don’t blame you, but Belial isn’t like him.”

“Love blinds you, mistress.” Holga shook her head as she applied pressure to my cut.

My stomach lurched. Were my feelings for Belial that obvious?

I stilled at the thought of him, fear seeping down my spine like venom. Something was wrong. Belial wasn’t coming. Usually, he’d appear before my blood could hit the ground.

“Holga…” My voice trailed off as I struggled to string everything together. She knew something she wasn’t telling me, and now, Belial wasn’t showing up when I called for him. “Why isn’t he coming?”

The witch’s teeth clacked. “Best guard your heart, girl. Now, let’s get you ready for the ball.”

What the hell was I supposed to do? Wait around in my ivory tower for my prince-not-so-charming to show up and rescue me?

Fuck that.

“The guests will begin arriving soon, and we shouldn’t keep the Lord waiting,” Holga said, breaking my train of thought. “He’ll come searching for you before long.”

“The Lord of Bones can kiss my ass,” I bit out, anger flaring. How dare he rob me of the last few hours I had to escape? That door had been too far away for three days to ever be enough time. He was a filthy cheater for not upholding his end of the bargain.

He knew I was doomed from the start, but he let me think I could escape to watch me struggle.

What a sick, sadistic fuck.

“No. I’m leaving.” I started to charge out of the bathroom, but before I could clear the door, my legs froze, one foot suspended in midair. My limbs were locked in place, refusing to move no matter how much I tried.

“What the hell?” I managed, even though my jaw was stiff. It was like every muscle in my body had suddenly gone rigid, holding me in place. I managed to shift my eyes in Holga’s direction.

She approached slowly, her footfalls getting closer until she stopped at my side. With a wave of her hand, I was able to stand up straight and glare at her.

“What are you doing?” I asked in disbelief. I tried to move forward, to reach out and grab her bony arm, but my body didn’t obey. I was at the mercy of Holga and her magic.

“I’m sorry, Lady Rayven,” she said, her voice soft and sad. “The Lord has requested that I get you ready for the evening, so that is what I must do. There is no escaping him. The best you can do is temper your heart. Don’t give into any more of his tricks.”

“Holga, please,” I begged, the corners of my eyes stinging as the weight in my chest returned, threatening to drag me to the stone floor. “You don’t understand. The Lord of Bones can’t claim me anymore. Belial owns my soul now.”

“Oh… No. Please, child. Tell me you didn’t…”

“I did.”

She shook her head slowly, her empty sockets falling to the space of floor between us. “Then there is no escape for you now.”

My heart crystallized. What was she talking about?

I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off before I could utter a sound.

“Come, let’s bathe you first.” Holga stooped over the clawfoot tub to draw a bath. My feet moved of their own accord now, allowing me to climb in after I pulled off my clothes.

The skeleton witch bathed me, twisted my hair into the most elegant updo to show off the collar around my neck, and helped me into the ball gown.

She offered me a pair of beautiful black heels, but I waved them away and pulled on my Doc Martens, which she allowed. If the old boots were the only bit of comfort I had for the night, I was wearing them.

Once I was fully dressed, Holga produced a pair of breathtaking, red teardrop earrings, which she let me put in myself. All the while, I fought back tears.

This was bullshit. Total fucking bullshit.

Why had Belial left me?

What was Holga not telling me?

Had he betrayed me?

Giving him my soul had been stupid; he’d even said as much. I didn’t care. Giving it to him still felt right, even if everything else felt oh so wrong.

I had all the pieces to the puzzle, but the foreboding sensation hooking in my belly told me not to put them together, that I didn’t want to know the truth.

My mind whirled as Holga applied a dusting of makeup to my face—charcoal to darken my eyelashes and a stain of red to my lips. I barely registered when she’d finished, my mind consumed with thoughts of Belial.

I felt sick, and when I stood in front of the full-length mirror, I barely recognized myself. Staring back at me was a gothic beauty. I looked regal, powerful, the opposite of everything I currently felt.

Acid burned up my throat at my next thought.

I looked like a queen.

I hated how easily I could imagine myself standing next to an ominous throne made of bones—or in it, perched on the Lord of Bones’ lap, like in that dream the plum had brought on.

“Show me all that I own…”

A shiver worked through me, one that turned hotter the deeper it sank through my core, but I shoved the sensation away, locking it up tight.

There was only one man I wanted to see, only one demon I wanted, and he was certainly not the demented specter of death who’d dragged me here and made me believe I had a chance to escape when I’d really been a prisoner all along.

I would never forgive the Lord of Bones for what he did to me.