7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Rayven

I couldn’t fight him off even if I wanted to. His magic was too powerful.

Even if I hadn’t sold my soul to the devil, it was damn near impossible to resist Belial when he was like this, feral and dominant—completely devoted to my suffering.

The bastard knew just how to tease and tweak me, manipulating me into enjoying his brand of torture. No, enjoying wasn’t the right word. I craved it, and somehow, for some stupid reason, I still wanted him.

Belial was like a dangerously addictive amphetamine.

And his body? Jesus Christ. His pants were looser than the ones he’d worn in the labyrinth, but the bulge in the front was still just as noticeable.

Without his mask, he was achingly handsome. Despite what I said to hurt him, I would never understand how Catherine hated that face enough to kill herself to get away from it. He had scars, sure, but those only seemed to add to his wicked allure.

I hated the Lord of Bones with every fiber of my being, and I loved Belial with just as much intensity. Now that I knew they were one and the same, my mind and my body were at war.

I wiggled against the invisible bonds that held me in place on the table. Belial watched me, and with the heated look on his face, you’d think I was purposefully putting on a show for him.

“Look at you. I’ve lived for so damn long, seen so much. Yet nothing has been quite so beautiful as watching you squirm for me.” His hands skated up my thighs, dangerously close to my exposed center.

Goosebumps exploded over my skin in the wake of his touch, and he hummed lowly, his hands sliding back down over the bumps. “Weeping Hells, you’re so responsive to me.”

I opened my mouth to fire off some obscenity or other, but only a moan slithered out as he stroked his index finger through my folds.

He held his finger up, rubbing it with his thumb to demonstrate the thickness of my arousal. Then, he popped the digit into his mouth, sucking it clean.

“You taste fucking delicious.” He surged forward, a dark glint in his eye.

His bare hand gripped my throat over my collar as his mouth came down on mine in a savage kiss.

He gagged my cry of surprise with his tongue, thrusting into my mouth and sweeping possessively over my teeth, the roof of my mouth, twirling with mine.

The scent of strawberries and pine leached down my throat and sat heavy in my lungs, making the simple act of breathing an impossible task.

One hand gripped my thigh tight enough to leave bruises while his other curved around my nape, tilting my head back, allowing him deeper access to my throat.

There was no space left between us now, his torso smashed against mine and the bulge in his pants rubbing against my open center.

I was drowning in him, and the worst thing about it all was how much I still wanted this…

My teeth bit down on his tongue hard, and blood bloomed instantly over my tastebuds.

He reeled back with a growl, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, making him look more feral than before. He angrily wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, which only smeared the blood across his face.

A slow, manic smile spread his bloodied lips. “You know that doesn’t count as ‘stop’, right? Your safe word is black widow. Or have you forgotten?”

I hadn’t forgotten. It just hadn’t occurred to me to use it. Would he listen if I did?

I opened my mouth to say it. No words came out.

Fucking hell, I was seriously messed up for not wanting this to end. “You don’t deserve me.”

“I never said I did.”

He stepped forward again, and I spat at him, gobs of blood and saliva flecking his face. His smirk widened. “Don’t give me that, little human. You’re acting like you don’t want me, but you haven’t used your safe word yet.”

“I want the person you pretended to be. The person I thought I was giving my soul to.”

“I am that person.”

“Fuck you, Belial.”

I squirmed harder against his bonds, and he shook his head, tutting. “Admit it. A part of you is enjoying this.”

His eyes dropped to the small puddle that had already formed between my legs.

“I’m naturally wet, asshole. You know how many panties I have to go through on a regular basis back home? Trust me, it wasn’t because Mark was some stud.”

At the mention of my ex, Belial’s gaze turned sharp.

What I said was true, but usually, I wasn’t this wet. He was right; I did like being tied up. I found that out the night he’d manacled me and fucked me with the wine bottle.

“You want to touch me? You want me to enjoy it?” I bit out. “Then get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness.”

“Beg?” He looked like every bit a king would when told to beg for anything.

“Yes, beg! Because a simple apology isn’t enough. You broke my heart, you son of a bitch!” My voice cracked, and bitter tears filled my eyes. “You need to do something for the pain you’ve caused, and you can’t do it with your dick, Belial.”

I wouldn’t have believed the demon lord was capable of regret—not for his own actions, anyway—if it wasn’t for the fact that it was carved plain as day into his marred features.

“Even if you accepted my apology, it would be yet another lie.” He shook his head, the chains dangling from his antlers jingling with the motion. “Because I’m not sorry for making you mine, just for the way I was forced to go about it.”

“You could have told me—“

“Oh, bullshit, Rayven,” he cut me off with a humorless laugh. “If I had revealed I was the Lord of Bones, you would have never trusted me to help you through the labyrinth.”

“And for good reason, you snake!”

He took a step back, his eyes full of thoughts. “What can I do to earn your forgiveness?”

“Remember that cliff where you tricked me into giving you my soul? Go jump off it.”

He blinked. “You want me to…”

“Take a flying leap, yeah.”

A slow grin spread his ruined lips. “I’ll do you one better.”

He unbuttoned his cloak, letting it fall to the ground, and ripped his shirt off, along with his other glove a beat later, adding to the pile at his feet.

He was left in only his pants and boots, his scarred torso on full display.

In a glimmer of blue magic, he produced a dagger seemingly from thin air. I recognized it immediately as the one he’d taken from me, the one I’d used to escape my room my first night in the castle.

He fell to his knees and held out the knife to me, presented on the flat of his palm.

The restraints holding me were gone in the same instant, allowing me to hop off the table and smooth down my skirts.

I eyed the dagger for a moment before taking it carefully in my hand. The last time I’d held this thing, the soul trapped inside had spoken to me and tried to get me to leap to my death—that was the only way she knew of to escape the Lord of Bones.

“Kill me, Rayven.”

I gaped down at the demon, who lifted his head to peer at me through the curtain of his unkempt locks. “Bury the blade in my heart.”

I shook my head slowly, unable to fully process what he was telling me. This had to be another trick. The god of death couldn’t die… Could he?

“What will happen?”

“You will get your revenge.”

“But will you die?”

“Is that what you want?”

What I wanted was the version of him I thought I was getting when I gave him my soul. According to him, that was also him. What if it was just another lie?

“Do it…”

The voice hadn’t come from me, or any of the household items watching the scene unfold. It hadn’t come from Belial either.

“Strike him in the heart,” the soft, feminine voice said again. It was coming from the dagger.

Belial seemed surprised for exactly a second, and then his smile locked into place. “Pierce me in the heart, and two women will get their revenge. What’s that human phrase? Two birds, one stone?”

“Two women?” I paused, my blood turning frigid. My gaze bounced between him and the blade. “Who else would want…”

“Catherine.” Belial’s voice was emotionless. “Her soul clung to the blade in your hands the last time she died.”

My throat tightened at the truth, and I fought to swallow my unease.

“Kill him now, before it’s too late,” Catherine’s faded soul whispered.

“Shut up!” I snapped, my fingers clenching tighter around the dagger as my hand began to shake. “I’m trying to think.”

“She’s right, Rayven.” Belial’s smile was unwavering, even though I was sure it was just another mask. “I gave you the opportunity to run on the cliffside when I showed you the door back to your realm. This is your second and final chance to leave me.”

“You will die, won’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter. Stab me, and you’ll wake up in the Patherick tomb as if nothing happened.” The demon’s lips peeled back to reveal unnaturally pointed canines. “Well, except for your pathetic little boyfriend. He’ll still be dead.”

I looked down at the face I loved and loathed in equal measure. What in the actual fuck was I supposed to do? This decision would change the course of my life forever. I did believe this would be my last chance to leave Limbo.

If I stabbed him in the heart, I’d wake up back home, and I could go on with my old life—not that I really had a life to begin with. In the human world, I had to constantly hustle to get by. Now that Mark was dead, I’d have no one. Plus, what had happened to his body? Belial had taken his spine to make into a crown, but he had to have left the rest of the body there in the cemetery.

There’d be questions if I returned out of the blue with my boyfriend dead.

When Belial first showed me the exit on the cliff, I’d made my decision. I wanted to stay with him.

But things were different now.

I’d never forgive him for what he’d done… But could I still be his queen?

“If you don’t stab that dagger into my heart right now, you’ll have made your decision,” Belial warned in a low rasp, seeing the conflict in my eyes. “And you’ll never escape me again.”

As much as I resented him for tricking me, I’d made my choice. I’d given him my soul, and something told me I’d prefer the pain of a future as the Queen of Bones, or corpses or whatever my title would be, than the pain of returning to my meaningless human life.

My grip on the dagger loosened, and after what felt like an eternity, I released the breath I’d been holding and lowered the blade.

Belial got to his feet and reached to cup my cheek. “That’s my good girl. I knew you’d—”

I slapped him so hard across the face, the crack of flesh striking flesh echoed down the hall, nearly drowning out the collective gasp from the onlooking furniture and knick-knacks.

“I’m not your good girl , you asshole.”

Belial slowly slid his deadly glare back to me, his cheek bright red. A vein in his jaw ticked, but he said nothing as I continued my tirade.

“If I’m going to stay here, you better treat me like the goddamn queen I’m to be, Lord of Bones. Otherwise, this castle won’t be my prison. It will be yours.”

Raising the dagger, I placed the point at the hollow of his throat and donned his signature smirk. “Now, get back on your knees. I told you to beg for my forgiveness. If you don’t satisfy me, maybe I’ll stab you after all.”