6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Rayven

Bitter tears stung my cheeks like acid as I fled the throne room. I hoisted a bundle of my tether against my chest as I ran, the magical chain surprisingly light in my arms. My heart thundered in my throat as I braced for the Lord of Bones to yank on the leash again and drag me back to his side while his audience laughed.

The asshole probably got off on humiliating me in front of his subjects, especially with his cruel brothers watching. That was probably why he’d invited them in the first place. They all came to watch the human get her heart broken in front of the entire realm then be chained up to the lord’s throne.

Like a fucking dog.

Belial was a bit of a sadistic fuck, I knew that, so I wouldn’t put it past him to drag me back, kicking and screaming, to give his guests a good show. Heck, my public humiliation was probably printed on the invitations beforehand.

I could see it now.

The Lord of Bones cordially invites you to the All Hollow’s Eve Masquerade Ball.

There will be a formal dinner service, dancing to follow, and the complete and utter ass-blasting of my pathetic little fuck slut.

However, a tug on the chain never came. It only seemed to lengthen as I kept running down the winding hallways, taking every random turn and zipping my way around, desperately looking for an exit.

There was still time… He hadn’t given me the third cut on my arm marking the third and final day of our bet. There was still time. I could still win. Assuming he’d honor our agreement to let me go if I could find the exit.

That was a big if. He’d taken me to a door on the cliff, showing me the exit right before I stupidly sold my soul.

The door hadn’t even been inside his labyrinthian garden—if a desolate wasteland filled with rotting corpses and hellish monsters could even be called a garden. Chances were damn slim that I’d make it out in time.

Still, my feet pushed forward. What other choice did I have? Sit and cry while my time ticked down?

Fuck. That.

Various knick-knacks, framed paintings, and furniture—all inhabited with lost souls seeking refuge while they awaited Judgement from the Lord—called out as I passed, but I ignored them. I’d learned my lesson the last time an object tried to guide me through the twisting hallways and countless rooms, nearly jumping to my death at its instruction.

When I finally found a window, I stopped running and dropped the bundled chain to the floor. There were bars over it to keep the Lord’s last mortal pet from escaping—one of the ways Catherine’s memory still clung to these halls. Even without the bars, it would be too high up to climb out.

I wiped a clean patch in the murky glass with the lace of my dress and peered outside. My heart sank when I saw how far off the garden wall was, the cliffside far beyond that. Even if time didn’t run out before I could reach it, the chain would only stretch so far.

“You’ll never reach it in time.”

Belial’s voice came out of nowhere, like a phantom bleeding from the walls. My flouncy skirts twirled dramatically as I whipped around to face the demon lord.

The Lord had now appeared in his lesser form—the one I’d stupidly fallen in love with. Coming to me in this form was probably strategic on his part, yet another way to manipulate me.

“Get away from me,” I spat, my back hitting the hall.

Ignoring me, he prowled forward slowly, every step meant to torture me.

“Even if by some dark miracle you did manage to escape,” he drawled in that deep, honied baritone, “aren’t you forgetting something? I own your soul. You’re mine forever, little treasure.”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not your treasure. I’m your fucking prisoner.”

“You said you wanted to be with me. I gave you the opportunity to leave, remember? On the cliff, I showed you the door. You had an out, and you chose me.”

“That was before I knew you were just the Lord of Assholes in disguise.”

“I wasn’t in disguise. This—” He gestured to his human-like form. “This is me too, how I looked before I became the Lord of this realm. Minus the antlers.”

I shook my head silently, unable to respond for fear I’d start crying. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “I never should have trusted you. It was just one big fat lie.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” He took another step, then another, until there was no space left between us. The chains draping from his antlers jingled as he canted his head. “Almost everything I said was true—how I want you to be mine, how I think you're stubborn and brilliant and addictively brazen….” He stroked the back of his index finger down the edge of my jaw.

His touch was electric. I wanted to shy away from it and pull him closer all at the same time.

His eyes dropped to my lips then darted up to lock with mine. “How I will protect you, just like I promised I would.”

“How do I know what’s real and what’s not?”

“You’re a living, breathing person in the realm of the dead. It’s like being caught between dreams and real life, not knowing bottom from up. Does it matter if you allow yourself to enjoy the ride?” The mouth of his mask brushed against the shell of my ear, and he dropped his voice to whisper, “Isn’t that what you want? To enjoy me?”

I swallowed down the rebuttal burning the tip of my tongue, resisting the urge to spit it in his face.

I could deny my attraction to him all day long. He’d still know I was lying. He’d betrayed me, but with the way I grew wetter, hotter, my pulse accelerating as he stalked closer, my stupid, traitorous vagina didn’t give two shits.

“What I want is for you to unchain me,” I snapped.

He paused, contemplation banking in his eyes as he seemed to consider my request. After a beat, he waved his hand, and the magical chain keeping me anchored to his throne flickered and disappeared.

My fingers ghosted over the metal choker around my neck, though it was more accurate to call it what it was—a collar. Yet another mark of his ownership. “Can’t you remove this too?”

“Sorry, little treasure. That’s never coming off.” His drawl was laced with something I couldn’t parse. He closed the last bit of distance between us, forcing me against the wall.

I was trapped, even without the collar. I’d sold my soul to the devil. There was no running from that.

“What does it mean, now that you own my soul? And before you say you own me for the millionth time, I want an actual answer.”

His cold eyes glimmered with amusement. “It means I control you, Rayven. Down to your bone.”

Likely sensing another question on the tip of my tongue, he took a step back. “Allow me to demonstrate?”

“Allow?” I snorted. “Do I have a choice?”

Another tense stretch of silence passed before he answered with a clipped, “No.”

He raised a gloved hand, pointing with his index finger and giving it a whirl in the air.

A small cry was wrenched from my lips as my body jerked toward him, as if pulled by invisible strings.

My ball gown fanned out in all directions as I whirled around and around, my head spinning just as fast. What the hell was happening?

A second later, I stopped abruptly and danced toward Belial, my limbs moving of their own accord—no, of his accord—taking his offered hand and gripping his shoulder.

We danced in the hallway to silence, our rhythmic footsteps echoing off the marble around us, before a simple tune began to play a few moments later. My eyes landed on a music box with some poor lost soul trapped inside, playing from a nearby table.

We weren’t alone after all.

“Perfect form, My Lord,” a suit of armor said, the soul’s voice echoing from the suit’s dusty helmet.

“What a beautiful couple,” a candelabra added.

Other various knick-knacks and furniture all muttered in agreement.

“I couldn’t agree more.” There was no missing the smile in Belial’s voice as he beamed with admiration, as if he wasn’t forcing me to dance with him.

“You’re a bastard,” I gnashed out as we twirled down the hallway to the music box’s melody.

“Yet, you still crave my touch. Even now, while you’re under my influence.” He canted his head, his gaze darkening. “By the scent bleeding from your cunt, I’d say especially under my influence.”

Fuck. I hated how acute this demon’s senses were. It made hiding my arousal a near-impossible task.

“Oh, sweet little human. What have I told you about lying to me?”

Using his magic, he pushed all the objects off the nearest table, sending the music box clattering to the ground. The melody abruptly came to a stop. Belial banded his arms around my middle and lifted me onto the table, my legs dangling over the side.

Another flick of his hand, and my thighs parted with a jerk. His hands swept under the hem of my dress, bunching the fabric over my hips.

He tore the glove of his right hand off with his teeth and gave his fingers a wave, as if to silently tease me, since we both knew exactly what he intended on doing with them.

“Wait—“

With his other hand, he tore off his mask and tossed it onto the table next to me.

Only yesterday, I would have given everything to see the man behind the mask. I had given everything.

The thing that hurt the most? I’d probably do it all over again. Because under all the heartbreak, all the betrayal, all the pain and resentment, I still wanted him.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me to fuck away the ache between your legs, Rayven.”

He reached up to tuck a rogue piece of my hair behind my ear, his touch suddenly gentle, a juxtaposition to the magical restraints forcing my body open for him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel something other than pain?”