32. Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

Rayven

My vision was blurry when I opened my eyes, and I blinked furiously until it focused. Once again, I was in a place I didn’t recognize, but at least I wasn’t in the Lord of Greed’s domain.

The sweltering air no longer threatened to choke me with every inhale. It was faintly chilly here, but not unbearable like Asmodeus’ realm had been. The cool air licked at my skin, a welcome relief after being in the Forge.

A quick glance around the room told me I was in Belphegor’s realm. The place embodied the sin he lorded over: gluttony.

It was a large space that reminded me of an underground cavern, but unlike the previous realms that were dark and carved into regular stone, the walls here seemed to glitter. It looked like hundreds of crystals had been crushed and dusted over the stones to make them shine.

The room itself was spilling over with so many things, it was hard to focus on any one in particular. There were several sofas shoved against the walls, nearly buried beneath mountains of jewel-toned throw pillows. Several shades of dark fabric draped from the ceiling overhead, and an enormous circular bed occupied the center of the room. It was piled high with black blankets and multi-colored pillows.

Everything, no matter which direction I looked, seemed to shimmer or shine with excessive decadence. It seemed wildly befitting of Belphegor.

But there was too much fucking stuff. I was already feeling a little claustrophobic, like the objects filling the room were crushing in on me even though they didn’t move.

After the minute it took to digest my view, I realized I was upright, my hands manacled above my head on a black leather St. Andrew’s cross, the kind you’d find in a BDSM dungeon.

My immediate instinct was to tug at the chains, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. The shackles didn’t budge.

“Fuck.” My eyes swept over the room for any sign of the Lord of Gluttony.

To my relief, he was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean much. I half-expected one of the piles of pillows in the corner to shift and reveal him at any second. He could have been hiding anywhere, and I wouldn’t have noticed.

A muffled sound nearby made me jump, and I inhaled sharply. Heart thrumming in my chest, I craned my neck to see another cross, identical to mine, a few feet away. A slender, familiar-looking woman was splayed out across it, completely naked.

She was human, but her pale form was tinged blue and a little transparent. She was like a projection, though her body was still solid enough to be manacled in place.

My chest seized.

She was a soul.

Her eyes were closed, her head drooping to one side.

I studied her face and its familiar features, the ones I’d memorized from her painting in Belial’s castle. Her cheekbones, her thick black lashes, her pouty lips, her jet black hair—she was unmistakable.

Shock shot through my system, a shiver vibrating up my spine. It clicked who she was.

Catherine.

It was the soul of Belial’s first pet, the one who’d fought tooth and nail to get away from him—the woman whose tomb I’d robbed, sealing my fate as the Lord of Bones’ next mortal captive.

My mouth was dry as I watched her, warring emotions clashing within me.

“C-Catherine?” My voice was hoarse, but she stirred at the noise, her dark eyes blinking open to lock with mine.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, both drinking in our reality. The recognition in her eyes told me she knew exactly who I was, even though I’d never seen her face in person. She’d never seen mine either, as far as I knew, but I’d spoken to her through the dagger.

My heart clenched. Belphegor had obviously stolen her soul somehow when he and the other lords kidnapped me. He must have picked up Catherine’s dagger after they’d kidnapped me since I’d used it in a sad attempt to fend them all off. He must have extracted the soul from inside the blade.

“Are you alright?” I shouldn’t have asked. I shouldn’t have cared, but seeing her tied up, just as helpless as myself, pulled at my heartstrings. Concern wavered in her eyes before they darted around the room, probably making sure the coast was clear.

“I’m okay,” she said, though she didn’t sound so sure. Her gaze snapped back to mine again. “You should have killed yourself when you had the chance.”

Her words were shocking, but there was no malice in her voice. She truly meant it. The poor woman had tried so hard to get away from Belial, to escape from Hell. Even after her final suicide attempt, when he’d laid her body to rest, she’d never truly found peace, not while her soul remained in his realm.

She didn’t want that same fate for me.

Yet, here I was.

The only difference between our situations right now was that I’d given my soul to the same demon lord she fought so hard to flee.

I’d do it all over again too.

So maybe this was my punishment for being the twisted fuck I was, for failing to get away from the demon lord who’d kidnapped me from the surface and killed Mark. But what about Catherine? Did she deserve whatever it was Belphegor had planned for us?

Sure, I’d be full of shit if I said I wasn’t at least a little apprehensive about seeing her. Despite her hating Belial, she’d captivated him for years. She was the source of so much heartache, regardless of whether it was her fault.

The fact that Belial had ever been infatuated with her at all was enough reason for me not to like her, but still. That didn’t mean I wanted her to suffer.

How long had she been chained up like this? Had she been here all this time, or had he manacled us together?

A hundred more questions galloped through my racing mind and then slammed to a halt when a door creaked open somewhere, announcing that we weren’t alone.

Panic flashed over Catherine’s face. My throat seized as the steady clack of high heels on marble echoed through the crowded chamber, and my attention whipped across the room to see Belphegor slinking toward us. A revealing little dress—if it could even be called that—made of countless little bronze loops created a chainmail effect, delicately clinging to the feminine frame he currently embodied.

“I see you’ve had time to get acquainted.” He smirked, his eyes locked in my direction as he weaved between towering piles of clutter. “Who would have thought I’d be so lucky? I have not one but two of Belial’s most treasured pets. I’m honored.”

Okay, so he knew who she was. Fuck.

My eyes shifted from Belphegor to Catherine, and the horror on her face told me everything I needed to know. He’d done more than just keep her chained up. Whatever he’d done to her, whatever she’d seen, it obviously terrified her, and her bottom lip trembled.

“Please,” she begged, her voice faint. “No more. Please, leave me alone.”

Belphegor merely chuckled, but he wasn’t paying her any attention. His gaze was fixed on me, an eager hunger brewing behind his eyes.

“I have so much fun planned for the three of us,” he said, his voice heavy with venom. Something told me that whatever he had planned, it wasn’t going to be fun at all. Painful, maybe, but not the enjoyable kind Belial had taught me to crave.

I swallowed hard, the blood freezing in my veins as he skirted around the bed in the middle of the room. It was hard to imagine how anything in this cavern was functional, including the bed, with how much shit was piled on top of it, and I didn’t want to find out.

Stopping in front of me, Belphegor flashed a wicked grin and trailed one of his manicured fingers along my collarbone. I flinched away from his touch, but the cuffs binding my wrists and ankles didn’t allow me to put more than an inch or so between us.

The Lord of Gluttony had made sure I couldn’t escape him. “What are you going to do to us?” I asked, afraid to know the answer.

He laughed, tossing his snow-pale hair over his shoulder. “Nothing I won’t thoroughly enjoy.”

I didn’t like the sound of that at all.

The demon’s coal-black eyes flicked in Catherine’s direction, and she winced like he’d struck her.

There was something about the way he regarded her that made my skin crawl and my blood boil.

Obviously, the sick fuck got off on terrorizing people.

“Leave her alone,” I demanded, sounding way braver than I felt. I didn’t owe Catherine anything, especially since she tried to make me jump out a window when I first arrived at the Lord of Bones’ castle.

But a tug in my chest demanded I say something in her defense.

“You said you wanted to play with me,” I said, steeling my nerves. “Now’s your chance, but you have to leave her alone.”

Belphegor tsked his tongue. “Oh, little mortal, you don’t have any bargaining power here. You’re both going to be my toys for however long you keep me entertained.”

His head canted to the side, his eyes narrowing. “Who should I turn into this time? You had so much fun with the Lord of Lust.”

I shivered, realizing he was planning on shifting again. I was afraid I’d never forget the way he’d touched me as Asmodeus, shackling me to the bathtub, running his fingers along my folds. The thought of his hands on me again had me tasting bile.

“Maybe I’ll turn into Mammon this time, seeing as he didn’t get to have his fun with you,” Belphegor teased, his manicured nail trailing down my chest, carving a hair-thin line of blood between my breasts. “A demon like him would split you open and jerk off into your pretty pool of guts. Knowing him, he’d be able to finish inside you before your insides even had a chance to stop twitching.”

As horrible as that sounded, I couldn’t think of anything worse than him turning into Asmodeus and raping me repeatedly. He’d already said he wasn’t interested in fucking me. Had that been a lie? Had he changed his mind?

“Or, I could turn into the Lord of Wrath and see how you handle both his spiked cocks,” the demon lord mused, tapping his fingers on his chin. “So many options. Eternity is a long time, but I have enough ideas to last a few hundred years.”

Nausea churned my stomach at the thought of being stuck in the Lord of Gluttony’s realm for that long, but I couldn’t think about that.

Belial was on his way. He was coming for me. He’d figure out a way through Mammon’s forge and come for me.

“Belial will rip your head off and wear your skin like a cape, you bastard,” I seethed.

Suddenly, Belphegor’s eyes lit up, nearly glowing as a wicked smile curled his lips.

“Silly me,” he said, taking a step back. “You must be missing your precious Lord of Bones, aren’t you? Don’t worry. I can help with that.”

Before I could even open my mouth, he shifted, his shape changing and filling out.

His white hair turned into an unkempt black shag, his breasts into perfectly defined pecs. Antlers sprouted from his head, a smooth black mask with faded embellishments appearing out of thin air.

When he finished morphing into this new shape, my heart was in my throat, making the simple task of breathing damn near impossible.

Standing before me was Belial, identical down to the arrogant smirk quirking his mouth.

“That’s better, isn’t it, mortal?” he asked in the velvet-wrapped baritone that normally made me melt. Hearing it now was like being shocked by a high-voltage fence.

I jerked against the cross, my chains rattling as surprise and horror and a dozen other complicated emotions rushed through my veins.

Belphegor’s eyes sparkled in amusement with his chuckle. “Now we’re ready to play.”