37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Rayven

She can watch us in the meantime.

No, no. no. This wasn’t happening. Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse.

Please, don’t do this, I begged Belial with my eyes, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was scooping up Catherine and taking her to the sofa. As he went, he kept the muzzle of his flame-eyed skull pointed at Belphegor and the dagger clutched to my throat.

Catherine moaned and mumbled something unintelligible as Belial laid her carefully among the sofa cushions.

She’d passed out, which was probably a mercy after everything her poor soul had endured.

My breaths turned short and sharp when Belial came back to the bed. For a moment, Belphegor didn’t move, remaining straddled on top of my pelvis. He giggled evilly, wiggling in a way that ground against me, making my body burn.

“Sorry you don’t get to join in on the fun, rat,” the shapeshifter sing-songed. “Guess your demon lover isn’t into group activities. Shame.”

The moment he pulled the dagger away, he turned into a white cat and jumped on Belial’s shoulder. The sinews in the Lord of Bones’ neck tightened, and I knew he thought about grabbing the cat and breaking its neck. Instead, his hands went to me first.

He undid my manacles and hauled me off the bed into his embrace.

If I’d been told a week ago, hell, even three days ago, that I would feel this safe in the Lord of Bones’ arms, I would have laughed myself to death.

Now, I melted into his subtle warmth like I was sinking into a warm bath.

“Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?” The Lord of Bones’ guttural timbre was etched with a heady mixture of concern, fear, and violence.

The white cat was purring on his shoulder and rubbing up against one of his horns, but Belial paid him no mind. Right now, he only had attention for me.

“No, I’m okay,” I told him, even though it felt like a lie. I didn’t feel okay at all.

He carried me to the cross and paused. I looked up to see his muzzle pointed at where he’d made his explosive entrance to the cavern. He was probably considering our escape; what was stopping him from just leaving? Why in the world would he strap me back to that cross and give into Belphegor’s demands?

He wouldn’t.

As if reading my mind, he started for the door, and Belphegor, who’d been a cat a beat before, transformed into his male form—his true form, the one I’d seen for a blink in Mammon’s bathing chamber. He had the same long, silvery hair as his female form, perfect bone structure, and a bronze lip ring decorating the center of his upper lip.

His arms flung around Belial’s meaty shoulders, having to stretch onto his tiptoes to reach. He released a manic giggle against his skull. “Where do you think you’re going? We haven’t even begun to play yet.”

Belial’s body tensed against mine, every muscle in his sculpted torso drawing tight. The blue flames in his eye sockets flickered, burning brighter, and I could sense the inner turmoil he faced. If he put me down, he could easily rip Belphegor in half and wear him as a hat, but his grip on me only tightened, pulling me closer to him.

“I won’t let you go,” he whispered, his gaze boring into mine.

“Put her on the cross, Belial,” the Lord of Gluttony purred. “There’s no escape.”

For a moment, I thought Belial would ignore the command and head for the door, but a shifting sound filled the room. My stomach fell, along with my jaw, as all the cluttered objects surrounding us started to move. Pillows fell from the sofas, trinkets trembling like there was an earthquake.

Belial swore under his breath as ghostly figures began to emerge from the trove of things, oozing out of vases, knick-knacks, and pillows. Holy fuck. Just like in Limbo, souls sought refuge in the objects Belphegor collected, hidden out of sight and out of mind until they were called on.

That time was obviously now.

The ghostly figures crept closer, their vacant eyes locked on Belial, pressing in until we were surrounded. Hands grabbed at me, and Belial managed to dodge the first few, but then, fingers wrapped tightly around my arms and legs. His claws wrapped tighter around me, fighting the mob of souls threatening to take me from him.

They grabbed at Belial, fisting his cloak, pulling at his massive limbs.

“Let her go—unless you want my souls to pull her arms and legs out of their sockets,” I heard Belphegor hiss in that cruel, feline purr of his. “You have my word she won’t be harmed, so long as you get back into my bed and show me just how appreciative you are for saving your little pet from Mammon’s dinner plate.”

“Don’t let me go,” I begged Belial, not giving two shits if they ripped me in half. I didn’t want him to get back in that bed.

“Get off us! I’ll do it!” Belial bellowed. All the souls went still. “Just let her go. No one touches her but me.”

The souls released their grip on us, and Belial gently held me up against the St. Andrew’s cross and fastened the manacles to my wrists. Normally, I’d be into this, but knowing he was about to crawl into that bed with Belphegor so he could save me had me shaking as he clicked the locks into place.

“I know I’ve done little to earn your trust, but trust me on this,” Belial said, his voice thick with emotion. He lifted my chin with a finger and pressed the end of his snout to my forehead.

He left it there for a beat, his warm breath rolling over my skin in a comforting wave before backing away and trudging over to the bed.

The demon was right. He’d hurt and manipulated me to the point where I shouldn’t ever trust him again, but he’d gone through literal Hell to get me back.

Now that I’d seen what true cruelty was at the hands of the other demon lords, I realized just how much I craved his particular brand of pain. The kind that was meant for my pleasure. The kind that made me feel like every bit the dark queen he intended to make me.

So, I held back my tears and trained my glare on Belphegor, who’d led Belial back to the circular bed with an excited little skip. He fell back onto the mattress, his white hair falling artfully around the pillows like a halo.

“Which form do you prefer, My Lord?” The shapeshifter batted his snowy lashes. “Your pet?”

He morphed, once again taking on my form. He gave one of his bronze piercings a flick, and his nipple— my nipple—pebbled with the attention.

Belial snarled in displeasure despite the hard-on in his pants; then again, that always seemed to be there while I was in the room.

The shapeshifter’s brows arched toward his hairline in surprise, and he flirtatiously twirled a lock of my jet-black hair around his finger. “No? What about this one?”

Another female form took shape, the perfect feminine mirror of his true form.

Belial growled again, and Belphegor laughed, clearly entertained by this fucked up exchange. “No, you’re right. That shape was Mammon’s favorite.”

He shifted again, this time taking Belial’s form again. “What about this? Who doesn’t want to fuck themselves at least once?”

Belial arched over him, the terrifying, skull-faced monster that was the Lord of Bones looming over his smaller, human form I’d come to crave in the Labyrinth. “Shift back to your true form, brother. I want to see your real face when I tear you apart.”

The words were menacing, but they didn’t sound like the threat I knew they were. His voice was hard silver wrapped up in silk and dripping with honey.

He was so seductive, a rush of heat stirred between my spread thighs.

“Really?” Belphegor blinked up at him. “You want my true self?”

If I hadn’t grown to hate the Lord of Gluttony so much, I’d almost pity him. His eyes glittered and perked up, almost beaming with excitement.

He seemed so thrilled with the idea that Belial wanted him just as he was. It made me wonder if Asmodeus and Mammon had always wanted him to be someone he wasn’t.

He shifted into his own form and rose up on his elbows, grinning like a madman. His coal-black eyes flicked to me, and his smile turned smug. His whole look screamed, “I’m about to fuck your mate, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

Licking his lips, he ran his hands down his naked body. His skin had a subtle tan, his muscles perfectly toned. His cock was on the slender side but long, accentuated with dozens of bronze piercings, so many that it looked painful. The epitome of gluttony, all in a cock.

“Take your clothes off.” Belphegor’s demand was met with a mocking laugh.

The Lord of Bones shook his horned skull slowly from side to side. “That’s not how this is going to work. You want to bed me? Then you’re my bitch, Lord of Gluttony. You do what I say. Do you understand?”

I expected Belphegor to see right through Belial’s ploy. I wasn’t sure what exactly he was planning, but I trusted him not to fuck the shapeshifter. Belphegor was all too eager to please the Lord of Limbo and agreed with a frantic bob of his head. “Yes.”

Belial quirked his head, his great set of horns tilting. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Belial turned, peering back at me, his flaming blue eyes turning a hot white as he focused on me. My heart went still, and while my body was tighter than ever, the twisting pain in my chest eased.

He turned around and kneed up onto the bed, straddling Belphegor’s torso. His skull-headed form was so massive, the V of his spread legs didn’t touch the shapeshifter below him.

“Very good. Now, be a good demon and touch yourself, Belphegor.”

The shapeshifter eagerly reached between the V of Belial’s legs, his attention riveted to the still-clothed bulge hovering in front of his face as he fisted his cock.

My breath caught in my chest as Belial reached down, wrapping his hands around Belphegor’s throat.

Slowly, he increased pressure. The shapeshifter's chest heaved with labored breaths as his hand stroked his dick faster, urged on by Belial’s grip.

Belphegor came with an explosive growl, copious amounts of seed spurting from his tip. His muscles rippled and tensed as the orgasm wracked his body, and he fell limp beneath Belial with a strangled groan.

Belphegor had finished, but Belial didn’t stop choking him. The white-haired demon seemed to process what was happening and thrashed. His cock was still hard, his slit weeping cum as he fought for his life.

The Lord of Bones’ maw opened, his black tongue slithering out to tongue his deadly teeth as a dark laugh shook from his chest. “What’s the matter, Belly? ” he mocked, using Mammon’s pet name for him. “Isn’t this what you wanted from me? To abuse you? To punish you? Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to fucking rip your head off for what you did to souls I own.”

Belphegor choked for air, his eyes bulging as Belial increased the pressure around his throat.

He was going to crush his windpipe. The shapeshifter’s skin started to morph, turning different colors and taking on fur and scales but failing to settle into any permanent shape as the life was slowly squeezed from him.

I watched in glee as Belphegor clung to his final seconds in this pathetic show he was putting on beneath Belial, bucking his body and clawing at the great paws encircling his neck.

Belial turned to look at me, and even though he didn’t have lips in this form, I could picture his other self, his scared lips pressed into that half-cocked smirk. “This will be the last head I gift to you, my queen. A complete collection. Does this please you?”

I sucked in a breath and gave a little nod as I tried to hold back bittersweet tears. I could barely breathe from the brunt of emotions constricting my lungs, but it was over. It was finally over. “Yes. It pleases me.”

“Do you forgive me now?”

I managed a tearful smile and opened my mouth to tell him I’d forgive him. The words crystallized in my throat as my attention fell to Belphegor, whose grasping hands had managed to locate Catherine’s dagger, which had gotten lost among the sheets.

His fingers closed around the hilt, and he flung it in my direction. It moved fast, and even if I had reflexes to dodge it, I was stretched out on the St. Andrew’s cross, bound and cuffed. There was nothing for me to do but close my eyes and wait for impact.

The blade slammed into my chest, directly over my heart. I’d expected it to hurt more. There was a brief pinch, followed by a dull sting. Everything felt so warm, like I was being drenched in warm honey.

My eyes drifted open, and I looked down to see a wave of red cascading down my front. Blood.

In my last moments, all I could think was how Belial loved me in this color, and I couldn’t help but smile.