Epilogue: Ashtaroth

"T hat was laughably pathetic."

I observe Lana's attempts to control the direction she launches her hellfire, the flames going wide every time.

"Argh, this is impossible!" Her face is red and strands of hair stick to the perspiration on her skin. She stomps her foot and uses the ether to gather a ball of water the size of a train engine. Positioning it over the smoldering shrubs that grow among the rest of the coastal flora of my domain, she releases it to douse the scorched earth.

She has been practicing ever since we made our unholy bargain – the Hell version of marriage vows, and much more permanent. The power exchange was extremely painful for me, but my pet will never know that our pact briefly turned my mortal form's insides into a crisp.

To my extreme delight, her control over the ether increased several hundredfold. She was relieved to see that also applied to her healing. Despite having sold her soul to the Devil and tying herself to an archdemon for eternity, she is still full of light.

It is unfortunate, yet also quite entertaining, that hellfire does not come as naturally to her as most other things. "You will charbroil your precious Puck if you do not learn some control, sweetness."

"Bite your tongue!" She flips me off and I chuckle at her outrage. The little imp became her constant companion. I often have to literally kick him out of our rooms before she lets me fuck her. Thankfully, her reservations only extend to the little furball. Taking her and making her scream my name in front of my court has become my new favorite pastime.

She grudgingly walks up to me, looking defeated. I tip her chin up and kiss her lips. "We will practice until you master it, lamb."

Lana groans. "I'll have to go to Purgatory soon. Liam has been chosen to assist Heaven with some top-secret issue back in the human realm. Apparently, he's partnering up with some stuffy angel for it and he wants me there for the meeting which could be at any time."

Since Lana can now easily travel using the ether, she can assist her team at Abaddon whenever she wants. I do not appreciate her disappearing for hours, but the tasks keep her feeling useful. As if feeding me and preserving my sanity is not useful enough.

"If that prick angel shows you any disrespect, call for me and I will choke him with his own intestines."

She laughs, but I'm not joking. The angel will sense our bond immediately and if he is like all the other sanctimonious pigs from Heaven, he will comment on it, likely upsetting her. I will not abide by it.

"Shall I introduce myself as a Great Duchess of Hell, then?" Her lilting voice is teasing and she pokes me in the chest with a perfect finger.

I grunt in response. "You may introduce yourself as whatever you wish, as long as they know they are all beneath you and treat you accordingly."

Still snickering, she wraps her hands around my neck and peppers my chin with little kisses. "Let's go take a bath, mighty archdemon, I'm all sticky."

"I will make you sticky with something else," I reply, pulling her lower body flush with mine.

She groans, but it's not a sound of passion. "Stop trying to be funny, Ash, you're far too hot for these stupid dad jokes."

I arch a brow. "Who says I'm joking, sweetness?"

With that, I gather the ether around us and send us to our castle, our bedchambers, and our bathtub.

Our home.

***

It will take more than a few months to dispel the millennia-old habit of being in my bed alone. Though the few hours of sleep I require have been eluding me since Lana has been sleeping here, I gather her sleep-soft body closer to mine, bury my nose into her soft auburn hair, and inhale deeply. I will take naps on my throne like a geriatric human before I give this up.

My lamb stirs and burrows closer, as if she's attempting to diminish the distance to the point where she enters my body, not knowing she has been there since the first time I touched her. Her arm stretches across my torso and curls around it until she's clinging to me like a baby koala.

"Love you," she murmurs in her sleep, her defenses down, her pride not standing in the way. The admission shatters something inside me, these jagged pieces of my being swirling in a maelstrom of emotion until the press of her body against mine is the only thing holding me together. I was not made to feel this way .

Logically, I knew how she felt about me – one does not barter their soul merely for spectacular sex. The power she gained from me is a nonfactor, she could not care less about that. What remains is love. Is it possible to be created for someone who is not born for thousands of years yet? Is it possible for creatures without a soul to have a soulmate?

The determination from the decision I made is the only thing strong enough to separate me from her embrace after her unconscious admission. I gently extricate myself from her hold, leaving her sound asleep as I use the ether to soundlessly appear at the balcony seal we used to travel to the Pits not long ago.

If he does not wish my presence, the seal will remain inert. I sense, though, that he is expecting me. As I step onto the seal, a current of power vibrates up my body through my bare feet before I find myself gliding into Sataniel's domain, wings extended.

He is not hiding behind the confines of flesh now that Lana is not here to suffer from the brilliance of his true form.

"Ashtaroth," he greets me, the voice which echoes around and within me managing to hold the slyness I cannot see. In our true form as angels, we let our thoughts and opinions emanate from us unfiltered, hiding nothing. In Hell, deception has become an art form perfected to the point where it has become completely innate.

"I have a request."

As I stop before him, he settles into his mortal form. Still brilliant, still as beautiful as a newborn star, he can now show the grin I heard in his voice. He lounges casually on his decrepit throne and lifts his hands with lazy curiosity.

"Yes?" he asks mildly, the still-present smile indicating he knows exactly why I came.

"Lana's soul –"

"Is nonnegotiable." His grin widens as he interrupts me, depraved enjoyment evident in the narrowing of his eyes.

"I did not come to beg for it."

Sataniel's eyebrow raises a minuscule amount, the only evidence of his surprise. "Oh?"

I inhale bracingly, the action not entirely necessary for my physical form, but born from uncountable years of navigating the world in it. "If Lana's mortal form should perish and her soul comes here, I would have you destroy it."

Both of his eyebrows are now raised in stupefaction, but I continue before he can speak.

"And then I would like you to destroy me."

After a beat, during which his face remained frozen, Sataniel's laughter fills the gloomy cavern, the wailing of tortured souls quieting in its wake, as if afraid to be the next source of his amusement.

"I must admit," he says, shaking his head in bemusement. "I did not expect that to come out of your mouth." He leans back, still chuckling. "Ah… Regardless." Suddenly, he appears before me, eyes gleaming with a calculating light. "I will not let either of you perish."

Tilting my head, I observe him, trying to glean his intentions, but falling short of plausible answers. "Why?" I finally ask. "Is this not all a part of your plan to conquer Heaven? Binding your most powerful to mortals whose souls are destined for you as the ultimate leverage? Empowering those mortals with the strength of archdemons until a new generation of powerful warriors is born, until you have a superior, utterly devoted army? How does that ensure she stays out of harm's way?"

The Devil brings his face inches from mine, lips spreading into a wicked grin. "Love has not turned you into an imbecile."

By the time I open my mouth to refute his assertion, he is once again sprawled on his throne as if he had never left it. "We are not capable of love."

Sataniel looks down at his hand, where his now clawed fingers are tapping rhythmically against the armrest. He hums thoughtfully. "We learned to covet, to hate, to derive pleasure… why is learning to love so impossible?"

Meeting my eyes once more, he shrugs with dismissal. "You should return to your bride. Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials."

Narrowing my eyes, I shake my head. "I am not –"

"You are," he interrupts me again, igniting an ember of anger within me. "You just haven't thought of it yet."

I exhale with impatience. "Asmodai and the mortal?"

Lana has been asking whether there is anything I can do to help the female, and though I do not expect my question to serve any purpose, I did promise her I am not giving up on freeing my brother and, consequently, Simone.

Sataniel steeples his fingers and rests his chin on them. "Oh, not much longer, I suspect. Children have a way of building bridges between people, do they not?"

I press my lips together to hold my answer in. Asmodai has dozens of children and he forgets their names nearly as often as those of their mothers.

Tilting my chin into a nod, I turn my back to the throne. As I gather the ether to bring me back to my bedroom, I hear the most beautiful sound in existence. Sataniel singing a lullaby.