22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Celeste

I was in heaven and the angels were singing—that was my first thought as I slowly woke up, listening to the lovely song that filled my ears. Then I remembered I didn't have a soul and the last time I checked, I was in Hell, and that theory fell apart. So where was the singing coming from?

Peeling my eyelids open, I blinked a few times while trying to find the source of the melody. The first thing I noticed was that I was lying in the bed; the second thing was that I was naked, covered only with a thin black sheet that had entangled itself around my legs. Something was pressing on my stomach, so I held my breath as I lifted the cover to see what that bastard might have done to me.

Neatly wrapped bandages around my abdomen wasn't what I expected to find.

The voice returned, singing in low, flawless notes. Even though there were no distinguishable words, the feeling of loneliness, heartbreak, and just a flicker of hope it conveyed made my heart ache in a way it hadn't for almost two thousand years. I could barely breathe by the time I pushed myself to my elbows and found where it was coming from. Or rather, who.

Standing in just a pair of gray sweatpants with his back to the bed, Beleth fussed over what looked like breakfast for two while humming that haunting melody. The muscles on his back flexed, tattoos shimmering almost like they were alive, and when he reached for the knife lying beside the plate, a cold chill crawled down my spine.

I shook it off just as the melody ceased mid-note and his head snapped toward me. Relief flooded my chest when I noticed his eyes were gray, not black, and his smile was apologetic, not full of all things wicked. Still, my body refused to relax entirely.

"Cyrus," I whispered, and the edges of his lips quivered in confirmation.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, turning back to the table. He picked up whatever he was working on and carried it to the bed, his steps slowing when he approached my side. He studied my face for a moment before sitting on the edge. It took a great deal of effort not to gawk at the overflowing tray with eggs, sausages, fresh tomatoes, and bread he put on my lap. There was even a tiny vase with black roses that seemed to be… dripping blood.

I pulled the plate away just before a drop fell on my eggs and he cursed, grabbing the vase and placing it on the floor.

"Sorry, I wanted you to have something pretty to look at! I forgot the ones here bleed once they're cut from the stem," he laughed awkwardly. "The food is good, though. No blood or dead meat or anything strange." He winced, giving me a sheepish grin. "Well, the meat was dead when the sausage was made, I suppose, but none of those things came from Hell. So eat up! It will help you regain your strength."

I looked down at the plate again, contemplating whether I should trust him on that when my stomach growled loud enough for the whole infernal plane to hear. Picking up the fork, I stabbed one of the sausages and brought it to my mouth. A quick sniff told me absolutely nothing, but the first bite was enough to confirm that it was delicious. As I started devouring the rest of the breakfast, Cyrus watched me with a delighted expression that made it hard to swallow.

"Was that you?" I asked. "The singing."

"You heard that?" he gasped, his face flushing with color. It was still an odd thing to see, considering the menacing aura his vessel had even when he was in charge. "It's just a silly habit from before."

"It was beautiful," I said, and his cheeks turned even redder. He seemed so carefree, his smile so unguarded and easy, like it didn't bother him that I had tried to kill him. That I did kill him, in a way. Or that Beleth had… gone off the deep end like… like the demon he was, I suppose. And now Cyrus was making me breakfast and bringing me bleeding roses.

What a mess.

"Listen, Cyrus, I'm sorry for…" I tried to stab another piece of sausage, but my fork slipped and the bite flew out of the plate and onto the ground. Sighing, I put the utensil down and forced myself to look at him. "I'm sorry for attacking you. I know demons can't die, so I figured you'd be fine after a while. I just… I want to get out."

A shadow fell over his face and he stared down as he twisted his fingers.

"How can you apologize after…" His knuckles turned white from squeezing them too hard and when he looked at me, his eyes were full of tears. "What he did to you was horrible and…" He sucked in a shuddering breath, his face changing through several emotions as he struggled to express himself. I stopped myself before I could nod because even though it was Cyrus trembling in front of me right now, I was sure Beleth was watching. And I'd be damned if I let him see me admit that he hurt me. "How can you call my singing beautiful and even apologize when he… he…" His shoulders dropped, and he sighed heavily as if he couldn't bring himself to voice his thoughts.

My first instinct was to smile and say it was nothing, but the words refused to come out. I had been through worse, much worse, and eventually I had grown used to it. Being hurt, being humiliated, being killed… I had stopped caring at one point just because it was easier.

The remorse on Cyrus' face was so deep and raw that it caused a giant crack to form on the high, protective walls I had surrounded myself with. Most of the people who had hurt me… they never regretted it. They reveled in my blood, cheered at my pain, and danced at my demise. Pretending they didn't hurt me was the only way I could fight back. Seeing how little their actions affected me, even with the horrendous things they did, it slighted their triumph and soured their victory. After all, this was their one chance at punishing a monster while I… I'd just come back like nothing had ever happened. Like they didn't matter at all.

But looking at Cyrus now, it reminded me of how it was… before. Before accepting pain and torture as something normal, something to be expected. Because it wasn't. People went their whole lives without getting beaten, broken, or betrayed. And if it happened, they needed years to heal from what I had spent centuries ignoring. And… I was tired of pretending that I didn't hate it.

The crack in my walls widened and the whole thing swayed, ready to crumble. I kept standing in the middle of it, staring at the looming shadow and trying to remember how to run.

It was Cyrus' voice that pulled me out of my mind, just in time to avoid the deadly tumble.

"What…" Cyrus cleared his throat, shifting in his seat nervously. I blinked a few times, startled by how unchanged everything was around me, even though it felt like my insides had been fundamentally rearranged. "What can I do for you to forgive me? I can't die, but if hurting me would make you feel better…"

Before I could stop myself, I laughed. The sound came out a little off and slightly hysterical, but when he gave me a concerned look, I laughed again. The difference between the two of them was so staggering, I couldn't bring myself to hate this man even if I would have gladly punched Beleth with a knife in the face. But hurting Cyrus… it would have brought no comfort at all. He was innocent, just like… I had been many times before.

"I don't think your evil side would be too happy about that," I sighed, putting the tray with the remaining food on the other side of the bed. My throat was so tight, I wasn't sure I could swallow another bite.

Cyrus's face flushed. "Well, he can…" he hesitated, his face twisting with some internal battle before he added. "...shove it up his ass!" I cackled with laughter when I imagined Beleth's reaction to that comment. Cyrus' blush spread, but by the time I wiped the edges of my eyes, he was smiling again.

"I'm serious," he said softly. "I don't want you to be mad at me."

"Don't get me wrong, I am mad, but not at you," I said. "I knew the risk I was taking by trying to seduce and kill you. I knew he'd be pissed when he woke up, so I had already assumed that if he caught up with me, he'd do something to punish me." Cyrus winced again, his shoulders caving in so much, I felt the urge to hug him. "If anything, it's my fault for provoking him and his for being… a fucked up bastard with anger issues and lack of self-control." Cyrus scoffed, and the sound was enough to make me relax a bit. "I mean, for being his usual demon self."

Something flashed in Cyrus' gaze and even though I wasn't an expert in demonic split personality, I was pretty sure that Beleth was trying to take control. The thought made me tense again, but Cyrus just closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and when he opened them again, the sharpness was gone .

"You knew he'd punish you and you still did it?" Cyrus asked quietly. "Why?"

I shrugged, expecting him to drop the topic, but he continued to stare with a stubborn look that reminded me of Isaac. I smiled at the memory of how worked up my mate got every time I jokingly called him ‘puppy', and wondered if maybe the nickname would suit Cyrus more, considering his personality. The thoughts of Isaac brought back the heaviness in my chest and the same longing that had forced me to step out of this room and into Hell itself. Before I knew it, I was replying.

"Because I want to go back to my life," I said honestly. "For the first time since I could remember, I have something good in my life, something to cherish and appreciate, and I…" I licked my lips, suddenly feeling conscious about what I was saying out loud. "I… I could almost feel happiness within my grasp." Cyrus winced. "I don't want to stay in Hell and be protected, Cyrus. And when Beleth said I should prepare to stay here forever, I…" I threw my hands in the air. "I want to go back to the people I love, even if it puts my last life in danger. What's the point of being alive if I don't have anything worth living for?"

Cyrus' lip quivered and his eyes filled with tears again. I was starting to feel like I was the bad guy going around, kicking puppies, when, in reality, I was the one being held against my will. Still, that didn't stop me from trying to move closer to give him a hug. There was just something inherently precious in the way he wore his heart on his sleeve and I… I felt the urge to protect that. Even if the proximity to his body was causing goosebumps to crawl all over my skin.

Just before I reached him, something pulled on my ankle. A curse and a few kicks later, I stared with disbelief at the shackle around my leg.

"Really?" I deadpanned, the urge to hug him vanishing like a puff of smoke. Cyrus wiped his eyes and gave me a somber smile that made me yank the chain, even though I knew it was pointless.

"It was either that or breaking your legs," he murmured as he got up from the bed. "I'm sorry."

"Do you have to do that a lot?" I asked while he moved aimlessly through the room, avoiding my gaze.

"Do what?"

"Apologize for him."

Cyrus stopped by the table, staring unseeingly at its surface while he ran his fingers over it. I waited for him to deny it, but when he remained silent, I gave up on expecting any answer. Instead, I skidded to the edge of the bed, wincing at the pain that spread through my ass and back. The chain rattled on the floor, but even that didn't seem to drag Cyrus out of his daze.

I tried to ignore him, but having him stand so quiet in the room made him look too much like Beleth and that unnerved me. I could only tell them apart from their speech and the way they stood and stared, and right now, he was avoiding all of those. Forcing a calm mask on my face, I tried to relieve some of the tension by stretching when he finally spoke.

"I know he can be horrible sometimes and he does things I don't like, but…" I couldn't see his expression from his angle, but his slouched shoulders told me all I needed to know. "He is also the reason we are both alive." His voice was distant, almost like he was talking to himself, so I stayed still, straining to catch every word. "He appeared when I needed him and he saved me. He took every beating, every insult, and every pain instead of me. He still does it to this day. And…"

Cyrus stopped running his fingers over the table and finally met my gaze. His irises were so big, his eyes looked almost black, but the way his brows hung low confirmed it was still him talking.

"He came up with the idea to make Nym and send him to you." He glanced at the door and I realized I hadn't seen my familiar since I woke up. Where was he? The last time I saw him, he was fighting off that demon, but then with everything that happened…

"Cyrus, where is Nym?" I gasped and for a moment he looked like he had no idea what I was talking about.

"Ah, that," he finally said, laughing awkwardly. "Nym's fine. He's just… running a few errands. He'll be back soon."

That didn't sound convincing at all. I took a step toward him, but the chain stopped me from reaching the table.

"If Beleth did something to him…" I started, when Cyrus raised his hands defensively, shaking his head.

"No, really! He was slightly hurt, but when he healed, Beleth sent him out and we stayed with you." I gave him a look of disbelief and his shoulders sank in. "Beleth didn't trust him to keep you safe anymore, and I didn't want to leave you alone so…" He sighed heavily. "He wouldn't kill him, I promise. He wouldn't kill either of you."

I scoffed before I could stop myself. "Only until he gets his own power. After that…"

"He saved your life more times than you can count," Cyrus interrupted me, his voice sounding almost disapproving. "And yes, it might have been for selfish reasons at first, but he kept saving you, even when your life wasn't in danger."

"What are you talking about?" I frowned.

"Do you remember that ghoul burrow you stumbled upon while you were running from the hunters in 781? Who do you think killed those things after they knocked you out?" I blinked, trying to recall the memory, but it was too fuzzy. "Then in 1233, when the hunters caught you and locked you up in their headquarters? How did you think you escaped? By luck?" He winced as if the recollection bothered him, but his voice was steady when he continued. "He killed them and cleared a path for you to flee. Then when the Coven of the Guiding Hand was after you for almost exposing the supernatural world when you went on a rampage in 1601?" When I said nothing, he continued, his voice growing more and more excited. "He got them off your back, even though you ended up getting yourself killed off that cliff while he was taking care of them. And then…"

Cyrus trailed off, craning his neck and squeezing his eyes shut as if he was in pain. I remained silent, still trying to come to terms with the idea that Beleth had saved my life without me even knowing it. Even if it was probably Cyrus who made him do it. This didn't sound like the demon who fucked me in the middle of Hell and kept me tied up most of the time.

"Fine, I'm shutting up," he murmured, and the strain on his face lessened. "All I'm saying is that… Beleth is…" He licked his lips, his expression turning somber. "He was born out of hate, violence, and desperation, so that's what he became. That's how he… expresses himself."

"So what was he trying to express earlier? His passionate love for me?" I scoffed and his face twisted, darkness spreading through the white. Cyrus shook his head and gave me a pointed look.

"Don't mock him, please. And Beleth most definitely hates you, but…" He shrugged, his expression turning almost tortured. "Apart from me, you're the closest thing he has ever had to a family, and he… he protects his own."

"That's one fucked up way of showing it," I murmured, biting my lip before I said something more that would totally piss the stupid demon off.

Cyrus opened his mouth as if to speak, then promptly closed it. His eyes grew glazed, as if he was staring into the wall without actually seeing it, and I sucked in a sharp breath when his head snapped toward me, his gaze zeroed in on my face.

"Sorry about that." He smiled, licking his lips nervously. His whole presence changed, excitement crackling in the air around him. "I… I just had an idea." I cocked an eyebrow, and he took a deep breath, confidence straightening his posture.

"Well? Get on with it then!" I sighed impatiently.

Cyrus crossed the room twice, twisting his hands in front of him before stopping by the bed.

"We need to work together," he declared. I tilted my head, giving him an incredulous look. "You, me, and Beleth. We can use your power in the trial so we can save ours for the final stage! If we… if he wins, then we'll no longer be dependent on your magic!" He started pacing again, his uneasiness mixed with excitement to the point he was blabbering. "I've been thinking about this. Beleth is adamant about keeping you here, but you might hurt yourself trying to escape, so this works for all of us! If you help us win the trial, there is no reason to keep you here! You can go back home!"

My mouth went dry as I stared at him. The thought had crossed my mind, but with the way Beleth had been acting, I didn't think he'd agree to it in a million years. He couldn't bear to hear me speak, let alone ask me for help. Or admit he needed help in the first place.

" He would never agree to that," I muttered, giving him a grave look.

"He will!" Cyrus chirped as if already expecting me to say that. "I mean, he does! He won't say it, but we can use the help! We have been doing this for so long that if we don't try something different…"

Cyrus choked, grabbing his throat like he couldn't breathe. I hurried toward him when he suddenly stopped moving. His hands fell down beside him and he straightened up—shoulders pulled back, head raised and face made of marble instead of soft flesh. The gray eyes were gone, replaced by the familiar dark ones that pierced me with all the ice in the world.