3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Rayven

“Come, Lady Rayven,” Holga urged, turning to head for the door. “We mustn’t keep the Lord waiting.”

“Wait. Now? ” I froze, my throat tightening. “But I have a few more hours before my time runs out.”

I rubbed my wrist where the King of Limbo had carved two marks into my flesh, soon to be three.

I wanted to rebel. I wanted to lock myself in Belial’s room and refuse to come out until the Lord of Bones showed up to drag me downstairs himself, but with a snap of Holga’s fingers, my feet moved of their own accord again. “The ball starts now.”

Falling into step beside her, I followed the witch’s lead down a long corridor, my heart sinking lower with every step. “Didn’t you say this was a masquerade? Don’t I need a mask?”

“The Lord doesn’t want your face covered.”

Of course. Why wouldn’t the Lord of Assholes take the opportunity to make me stand out like a sore thumb?

I needed to find Belial. I had to do something. Run, fight, flee. Anything.

But all I could do was follow Holga in silence as our footsteps echoed off the stone walls around us, my mind careening out of control as my heartbeat gradually picked up speed with every turn we made.

We rounded another corner—I’d lost track of the hallways several turns back—and a sound nearly stopped me in my tracks. Or it would have, if I had control over my own feet.

The sound was soft, the ghost of a melody drifting lazily through the castle halls, prickling along my skin and inviting me closer.

The clearer the haunted tune became, the more it invaded my senses, wrapping its cold fingers around my heart. On the surface, it might have been beautiful, something worth dancing to, but underneath the guise of beauty was the unnerving truth of what it represented.

The tune was a death march, and I was moments away from being face-to-face with death himself.

We stopped in front of a set of double doors, gray and imposing like the rest of the castle, guarded by two suits of armor. The haunting music seeped through the sealed entrance, tugging at my insides. It was as if the tune was singing to my very bones.

As much as I didn’t want to be here, I couldn’t deny the curiosity burning through me.

I wanted to see what a masquerade ball worthy of the Prince of Hell was like, if only for a moment.

If I could get away from Holga, maybe I could make a break for it, and then… I had no idea what I was going to do, but I had to try to escape.

There was still time left.

I didn’t belong to the Lord of Bones yet.

After a beat of hesitation, the suits of armor sprang to life with a chorus of creaks and squeaks. The heavy doors groaned open, and I craned my neck to get my first glimpse of the ball. My chest constricted, and I fought the urge to be impressed.

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

The hall itself was enormous. Bone chandeliers hung from above, ornate pillars running up the walls to meet the high ceiling. At least a hundred bodies swirled around the room, all swaying to the hypnotic music coming from a live band of skeletons in the corner. Haunted suits of armor, skeletons, and demons were all dressed to the nines, swathed in glittering fabrics. There were ball gowns and waistcoats and a sea of black, white, and silver masks.

I watched in awe as a couple, a tall skeleton woman and a headless demon, twirled by before disappearing into the crowd. No one batted an eye in our direction as Holga and I stepped into the room, nor when the heavy doors closed ominously behind us, sealing us inside.

“I don’t want to dance,” I said, shooting Holga a nervous look. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how—I’d watched enough movies to have a good idea—but I didn’t want anything to do with the festivities, not if all these people were here to watch the Lord of Bones gloat over winning our little bet.

They could all get fucked.

There was only one person I wanted to dance with anyway, and I had no idea where he was, or if he would even attend the ball. If he was even still alive.

“Why can’t I just go to my room?” I asked, unable to keep my eyes from wandering through the hall. “If the Lord wants me here so badly, he can fetch me when he’s ready. I don’t want to be here.”

I wanted to sulk alone. I wanted to cry.

“You have no choice, my dear,” Holga tutted. “None of us do in the Lord of Bones’ realm. You could at least try to have a good time.”

Under different circumstances, I couldn’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than a horrifyingly glamorous goth ball, but this was the last place I wanted to be.

Holga seemed genuinely sorry she couldn’t help me. Her fear of returning to one of the lower levels of Hell outweighed her compassion. I couldn’t say I blamed her, but I wished someone in this fucking castle would help me slip past the Lord of Bones’ watchful eye.

My thoughts turned to Belial, and my heart pitched toward the floor. He’d done so much to help me, and then he’d disappeared. It didn’t sit right with me. He wouldn’t just leave, not after I’d given him everything. He wouldn’t just take my soul and leave me behind…

Would he?

Either he was dead or he’d betrayed me, and I didn’t think I could live with either one.

“Go on,” Holga nudged me forward by digging her sharp elbow into my ribs. “You might even find what you’re looking for.”

My head snapped in her direction, but she wasn’t looking at me. Her empty sockets were glued resolutely to the waltzing couples around the hall.

“Holga,” I said, my voice just loud enough to be heard over the eerie melody. “Is Belial here?”

She didn’t answer, but her magic gripped my muscles and forced my feet forward, carrying me across the dance floor against my will. Despite my efforts to turn back, the invisible force dragged me farther away from the witch until I was good and lost in the swirl of twirling dancers.

Then, the hold over me ebbed, and I continued forward on my own.

Now that I was here, I might as well look for Belial. If I couldn’t find him, at least I could try to slip through the throng of people and shake Holga from my tail.

The music floating in the air, coupled with the constant movement of dancers around me, made my thoughts fuzzy. It was ethereal, something straight out of a movie—one I didn’t remember auditioning for. If it wasn’t for the painful throb in my chest, I might have chalked all of this up to another plum dream.

I made my way through the sea of masked faces, eventually catching a glimpse of Holga and Cecil—the Lord’s personal librarian—waltzing together around the perimeter of the room. Angry as I was, the sight put a smile on my face. Now it made sense why she’d been so nervous when she and Cecil came to Belial’s room. I would have guessed that the two didn’t like each other. Maybe I’d misread the tension, and the frustrations were more intimate in nature.

Which was understandably frustrating, since only one of them had skin—if the aged leather stretching Cecil’s frame could even be called skin.

When I broke through the crowd at the other end of the hall, my stomach dropped through my ass to the ground. Elevated on a stone dais was a throne made of bones, the same one I’d seen in my dream, looming menacingly before me. It was an omen, a stark reminder of what would come shortly. In front of it, splitting the marble floor in half, was a crimson river drifting along somberly. The River Styx.

My insides twisted, visions from the dream flooding my mind once again.

“Show your Lord all he owns,” the Lord of Bones had rumbled in that voice that touched me all over, as palpable as a lover’s caress.

Heat thrummed through me as the image of me bending over and spreading myself open for him surfaced. He’d made me touch myself in front of all those souls.

Fuck. That damn dream. I couldn’t get it out of my head.

A flood of arousal pooled between my legs and slicked down my thighs. I pressed my dress down, trying to soak up the fluid with the fabric.

Of all the layers Holga had provided me with, underwear wasn’t one of them. Something told me that had been yet another instruction from the perverted Lord.

“Fucking prick,” I mumbled, quickly turning on the spot to watch the dancers once more.

At least there was no sign of the Lord of Bones. Yet.

I probably didn’t have long, minutes at most, before he made his appearance. Before he came to claim me.

In front of all these people.

I took a shaky breath, searching for an exit.

Aside from the doors where we’d entered, which were still sealed shut, there was no other way into the hall. There was no escape.

As I tried to hash out an escape plan, a flash of antlers had my blood freezing in my veins. My blood went molten hot on the next breath when I registered the jewelry decorating them, silver charms and chains I’d recognize anywhere.

Then, a mask I knew well appeared through the crowd. It was gone again on the next beat of the music.

My heart slammed to a painful stop, and time seemed to slow.

“Belial?” I whispered, maneuvering and trying to catch sight of the mask again. The silver on his antlers caught the light. That had to be him. Was he dancing?

My stomach pitched toward the floor, and I hurried forward, nearly getting trampled by a waltzing pair of demons. I muttered an apology and pressed on, weaving through the crowd while the haunting music swallowed me.

I frantically searched for the demon who possessed my soul, probably looking ridiculous as I spun around without a dance partner, but I didn’t care. No one seemed to be paying me any attention, lost to the music.

“Rayven,” a voice said behind me, and I stilled. With a sharp inhale, the scent of sweet strawberries pierced my hazy thoughts and lit up every nerve in my body.

I pivoted. Belial stood there, storm gray eyes practically glowing behind his mask as he looked me over. My skin prickled with unease, and suddenly, my mouth was bone dry.

He looked incredible. His black slacks and fitted silver shirt hugged his muscular frame like they were made for him—they probably were—and a black cape with intricate silver details was tied around his shoulders. He looked elegant and sinister, every bit the conniving henchman who’d set his eyes on the villain’s prisoner, determined to make her fall for him.

He was temptation incarnate, and I was helpless against his influence.

I could only stare as he stepped closer, eliminating the space between us without breaking eye contact. Relief like I’d never known washed over me in a crashing wave, but mixed emotions quickly surfaced right after.

I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.

“What have you done?” I asked, my voice threatening to crack. “I’m supposed to be in the labyrinth. I didn’t ask to come back to the castle.”

“I know,” he said gently, offering me his hand. “Everything will make sense soon.”

“Soon?” I asked, staring down at his outstretched fingers. My skin was burning to touch him, even just his gloved hand, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything until I knew he hadn’t betrayed me. “I want the truth now , Belial. Why are you doing this? The Lord of Bones is going to show up any minute. We need to go. If he catches us…”

Belial grabbed my chin gently between his fingers, successfully silencing me. I stared up into his eyes for a long moment, caught in their web of sincerity.

“As many times as I’ve saved your life, you should have more faith in me,” he said shortly. He leaned forward, and the scent of ripe berries made my head light again.

“Faith,” I muttered, thoughts swimming. “You’re a demon.”

“And yet…” He traced a finger along my jawline. Goosebumps exploded over my skin, despite the heat sinking through me. “You gave your soul to me. I’d say that requires a fair bit of faith, don’t you?”

Shit. He had me there.

“But the Lord—”

“Dance with me, Rayven,” he interrupted. His gaze dropped to his outstretched hand, silently urging me to take it. “Please, give me this.”