28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rayven

The moment I opened my eyes, antlers came into view. The familiar charms and chains draping the bones had tears rolling down my cheeks instantly.

“You’re crying… Why are you crying?” The panic in Belial’s barrage of questions had the tears flowing faster. “Who hurt you? Was it Mammon?”

“I’m fine, I—I think. I just hate that this isn’t real. You’re not really here.” This was another dream, the power of the plum magic uniting our minds while I slept.

“No, treasure, but I’m coming for you.” The sincerity in his storm-gray eyes calmed some of the crushing sadness churning through me. “Cecil procured the soul book of a renowned engineer, who is sure he can break a mechanism in the gate. He’s working quickly and won’t be long now.”

At the mention of Cecil, I swiveled my gaze around, but there was no one here. It was just the two of us on a gondola, bobbing in the middle of the River Styx, the enormous iron gate of the fifth circle looming over us.

“Cecil’s here?”

He nodded. “Holga too.”

There was a platform on the back of the gondola, where I ventured the ferryman was supposed to stand while he ferried souls around, pushing his oar behind him. I could practically see Belial standing there, leaning against his oar decorated with the heads of his brothers, eyes glazed over as he immersed himself in my mind. All the while, Cecil bickered with the engineer at the front of the vessel.

“I’m surprised you let them come.”

“They insisted.” A smirk played at his scarred lips. “Good thing, too. I wasn’t anticipating the gate; it’s new. Well, new as in built after my last visit several centuries ago. With Cecil’s quick thinking, I’ll be inside soon. I’ll kill Mammon, and we can go home and put this nightmare behind us.”

Home.

At my agonized expression, Belial’s strong arms gathered around me. He sat down on the bottom of the gondola with his back against the ebony wood, pulling me into his lap.

Normally, I’d feel ridiculous in this kind of position, since he was cradling me and gently rocking me like a baby, but after all I’d been through, I needed the comfort of his embrace. “What happened? Tell me everything, Rayven.”

“I…” My voice trailed off as I recalled my last moments of consciousness, of Belphegor transforming into a giant white bat. My stomach lurched, a sinking feeling sweeping over me. I had no idea what happened after I blacked out, but I had a good guess. “I’m not in the fifth circle anymore. Or if I am, I won’t be for long. Belphegor—”

“Belphegor?” Belial’s handsome face took on a chilling expression. “What did he do to you?”

“Mammon was going to eat me. There was this big cauldron—goblins everywhere. There were two other demon lords too,” I said with a chill. “One had a big eyeball for a head, and the other is some sort of spider monster.”

“Paimon and Baal, the Lords of Sloth and Wrath.” Belial spat the names like they were trash in his mouth. “Fucking traitors, all of them.”

“Belphegor saved me.” I frowned. No, that wasn’t right. I didn’t feel saved at all. “But whatever he has planned for me…” I couldn’t put words to what I expected the shapeshifter to do, simply because I hadn’t the slightest clue. All I had to go off of was the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I knew my gut was right when I caught a flicker of something I could almost sense as fear behind Belial’s luminous eyes. “If Belphegor hurts you before I’m able to reach you…”

He couldn’t seem to bear the thought long enough to finish the sentence. “I’ll kill him, no matter what, but his head won’t be the last on the oar. It will be mine.”

“What?” I froze, ice prickling through my veins. “You mean you’ll kill yourself?”

“My war path isn’t about punishing the demon lords who kidnapped you. I’m punishing every demon who’s hurt you. I’m pretty fucking sure I’m at the top of that list, little human.”

I hadn’t thought about everything he’d done to me in the last couple of days—because getting kidnapped and dragged down through the layers of Hell had a way of distracting a girl—but I hadn’t exactly forgotten all the fucked up shit he’d done. Killing Mark and making me a crown from his spine. Making me take a bet I could escape his carnivorous, corpse-filled garden in three days or else I’d become his queen—a bet I could never win in the first place. Manipulating me into thinking his second form was a different person, making me trust him. Making me fall in love with him.

I hadn’t exactly forgiven him, but he was making it damn difficult to stay mad at him.

“What is that little pout for?” he snickered, that imperious, smug-as-fuck attitude returning to his face in the form of a panty-melty smirk. “Mad that I plan on killing myself once you’re rescued? If it would make you happy, I’ll let you do it.”

“I’m not fucking killing you,” I snapped. “I agreed to stay, didn’t I? I want to be your queen. Your queen. I’m not interested in ruling your dusty old realm, or the eight others below it, alone.”

“You’re so damn beautiful when you’re pissed off.”

I snorted. “I wish looking hot as fuck while kidnapped felt like more of an upside.”

The corners of his smirk twitched, almost wavering. It felt more like a mask than the one he used to wear around me. His mouth curved upward but, in spite of that, he looked so sad.

I reached up, my fingers brushing his jaw and cupping his cheek. His hand slipped behind my neck, his thumb swirling slow and gentle circles against my nape. Somehow, the intimacy felt new but familiar all at the same time.

“What’s wrong?” I muttered, searching his eyes. It felt like a stupid question given the circumstances, but there was something more weighing on him.

“I’m not used to feeling this helpless. I don’t like sitting around and waiting. I’m the God of Death, for fuck’s sake. My mate’s life shouldn’t rest on the shoulders of a mortal soul.” He buried his head in his free hand, his black hair spilling over his fingers. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, not with those monsters in the castle. What was I thinking?”

I blinked at him, feeling a strange ache in my chest. He was upset with himself. I’d never seen him like this before.

“Belial…”

“When I get you back home, I’m crowning you queen. Then, I’m going to teach you magic.”

Another blink. “Magic? What kind of magic?”

“An ancient arcana so powerful, no one will dare defy you. Your enemies will fall to their knees in fear, your allies in fealty.”

“What about you?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “Will it be magic powerful enough to bring even a god like the Lord of Bones to his knees?”

His face lifted from his palm. There was that half-cocked smirk again. “You’ve proven you don’t need magic for that. But yes, even me. I’ll train you to protect yourself against anything and anyone. Including me.” He brushed a featherlight kiss to my brow. “Especially me.”

“You wouldn’t have to train me to protect myself against you if, you know, you didn’t act like a freaking psychopath half the time.”

Belial’s gaze darkened, and his smile spread wide. “Where’s the fun in that, though?”

“You’re deranged.”

“You don’t know how right you are.” It was still weird seeing his bare face. I’d gotten good at reading his eyes, but without his mask, I could read him like a book. The scars on his lips twitched with the smile he was holding back. His brows quirked like he was thinking back on all the things he’d done to earn him that title.

“The fuck I don’t,” I huffed with a toss of my eyes. “You’ve made me kiss your boots while I was drowning in quicksand. You half drowned me in a bathtub. You’ve fucked me with a wine bottle while I was chained to your bed. You’ve spanked me in a graveyard—”

“Maybe I just crave giving you what you want, the things your human sensibilities won’t let you ask for.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but his hand had moved from the back of my neck to curve around my throat, gripping me firmly enough to cut off my rebuttal. “You were the one masturbating on the grave of an old servant of mine.”

My mind went back to that day in the labyrinth, when Belial had spanked me then put me on my knees and throat fucked me. He’d come, and he’d left me high and dry. So, I’d taken matters into my own hands there on one of the graves.

He leaned closer until his marred face filled my vision and his breath tickled my lips. “You looked fucking beautiful, your gown torn, my cum still dripping down your chin with your fingers stuffed into that pink little pussy. So needy for the Lord of Death to come back and fuck you stupid against that grave for all the monsters in my gardens to see.”

His eyes gleamed as he whispered in a tone that made the little hairs on my nape bolt up. “How’s that for deranged?”

My throat bobbed with a swallow, the menial movement feeling almost impossible with Belial’s hand around my throat. Everything about his possessive touch, his filthy words, and his dark, leering gaze felt desperate, like all he wanted to do was reach through my dreams and pull me back out on the other side of reality.

His hand slipped from my throat and roamed over me, memorizing the planes of my body with an ache in his touch that burrowed into my bones and sunk into my marrow.

“I fucking need you,” he groaned, the pain in his voice making me shiver. “I miss you so much.”

I worked my bottom lip between my teeth, peering up at him through my lashes. “Tell me what you miss about me.”

The smile he’d been holding back broke loose. “I miss your bratty mouth.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“Of course,” he said with a chuckle, as if it was obvious. “No one has the stones to speak to me the way you do. It’s fucking electric.”

His hands wandered, long fingers fitted with an assortment of silver rings flexing as he squeezed my breasts.

When he plucked at my nipple piercings and a moan rumbled from my lips, he laughed. “And I miss the sexy little sounds you make when I play with your perfect tits…”

His hand wandered lower, slipping between my thighs. I bit back a gasp when his fingers pinched my clit—light enough not to hurt and firm enough to send a rush of pleasure through my core.

I squirmed in his lap, and he laughed, the silken sound turning my pussy molten, arousal dripping onto his fingers.

“And I miss how responsive you are to me. You’re always so wet for me, and your skin…” He muttered a curse under his breath as his eyes skated over my naked form. A full-bodied blush was sweeping over me like a fever. “Seeing your flesh dressed in this delicious hue of red makes my cock fucking ache.”

A series of gasps and moans tumbled from me as he continued to rub my clit. He oscillated between lightly circling it, waiting for me to squirm with the need for more friction, and then moving in and plucking on it until I was twitching from the overstimulation.

A devilish yet somehow studious expression was etched into his scarred features as he worked me up until I was trembling with pleasure, like my impending orgasm was the most serious business he’d attended to all day.

“That’s it, treasure. Make a mess on your Lord’s fingers,” he said on a dark purr. “I want to watch you suck them clean once you’re done.”

The swirling warmth between my legs mounted, and I reached for him, grabbing onto his antlers. A rumbling growl rose from his chest at the contact, encouraging me to hold tight.

His silver earring, the one shaped like a small dagger to match the one he’d given me in the labyrinth, brushed the back of my hand. I wish I still had it. It was probably still lying on the floor of his bathroom back in Limbo. Not that it would have done me much good. I doubted I would have been able to summon him outside his realm anyway.

Tears pricked my eyes, and whether it was from the fact that I missed Belial so much it hurt or the mind-shattering bliss wracking my body, I wasn’t sure.

They rolled down my face, and he arched over to kiss them away. His tongue slid over my skin, and it was surprisingly cool against my burning cheeks.

“I love when your body weeps for me, Rayven,” he whispered against my skin. “In every conceivable way.”

His fingers stroked me, knowing just where to press and pull. It was like I was his instrument and he knew every chord, every note to make me sing.

His thumb covered my clit to free his index and middle fingers, sinking them into my pussy a second later. He pumped in and out of me at a pace that had a bead of drool dribbling down the corner of my mouth.

“Oh, God!” I whimpered and clamped my lips shut the instant the words left my mouth. He hated it when I called out that name and not his.

Belial’s eyes narrowed, and I waited for my punishment, but his lips only spread into a sinister smile. “You know full well that I am your god now, Rayven. You sold your soul to the Devil. You worship me now.”