Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
ABADDON
I am deeply unsettled by my consort’s sudden descent into silence.
We had made what felt like a leap forward in her training once she returned from her disappearance. She gave herself to me so freely, and there was joy in her submission. And she gave me her name, for Fates’ sake!
But now—
Now we take steps backward instead of continuing forward! She’s attempting to bend me to her will—a notion that should be laughable.
“Is this about my brothers?” I ask after two endless days without her voice, while we dine together.
I’ve grown to treasure hearing her speak—any voice besides mine and Romulus’s echoing through these ancient halls.
Her withdrawal feels like a physical ache, returning me to the crushing solitude I thought I’d escaped.
She looks directly at me and nods with deliberate emphasis.
Fury blazes in my chest.
“Don’t be absurd,” I roar. That she would show such obstinacy over my brothers of all things! “I’ve told you—everything has been attempted with them.”
She rises from the table where we’ve been sharing our meals in the Great Hall. I granted her a chair, deciding she’s nothing like Creator-Father’s submissive consort.
But now her defiance makes me question that choice.
“Sit back down,” I command.
She glares at me with those fierce eyes, and I rise as well, fur bristling with agitation.
For a charged moment, we face each other. If she continues this rebellion, I’ll have no choice but to restrain her again until she yields. The thought makes me grin despite myself. “I dare you to continue.”
She throws her hands skyward and drops back into her chair. She knows my methods well by now.
I’m only slightly disappointed by her surrender.
I return to my bear meat, eating in the oppressive silence that grates against my nerves.
“Speak,” I demand after several more minutes.
She merely raises one eloquent eyebrow and spears a piece of greenery that resembles a tiny, wilted tree, chewing with aggressive determination.
She’s impossibly obstinate. Magnificently, infuriatingly stubborn.
It makes desire coil hot in my belly.
But I must break this defiant streak. “I don’t understand this fixation with my brothers!
” I slam the table, making her plate rattle.
She catches her goblet just before it topples, shooting me another withering look.
She won’t speak, but her face remains beautifully expressive, mostly to convey her displeasure with me, except when I’m bringing her to ecstasy.
Yet I haven’t claimed her again.
Something feels wrong about breeding her while she’s disobedient. Last night, I brought her to the edge of release repeatedly, then withdrew, trying to coax words from her lips.
Even during that exquisite torture, she simply crossed her arms over her chest and denied me her voice.
Eventually, I restrained her arms, but even then, she wouldn’t break. Even when her body trembled with desperate need, when I kept her balanced on that knife’s edge—
I shake my head. No one possesses her level of stubbornness. Except perhaps my brothers, but theirs stems from madness, not determination.
Of course!
Understanding dawns.
Hannah-consort is so willful that she won’t accept anything without proof. She must witness the truth with her own eyes.
Is it infuriating that she doesn’t trust my word? Absolutely. But as someone who believed Creator-Father’s lies for too long without questioning him, perhaps some part of me... respects her for it. She’s formed an opinion, and until I prove her wrong, she’ll maintain this maddening silence.
Decision crystallizing, I rise so abruptly my heavy chair scrapes across ancient stone.
“I understand now you must see to believe,” I declare, letting my tone convey my displeasure. My disappointment in her lack of faith.
She appears completely unbothered, bouncing up from her chair. “Really? You’re willing to try? Oh, thank you! Thank you, Abaddon!”
She rushes over and throws her arms around my chest, her radiant smile stealing my breath.
I stare down at her in shock, unable to prevent my chest from glowing as she embraces me. When she looks up with that genuine expression of pure delight, the light intensifies embarrassingly. I try desperately to suppress it.
“You will be disappointed,” I warn, turning away so my wings hide the telltale radiance. I stride toward the stairs, tossing a fur from near the fireplace in her direction. “Cover yourself. Your nakedness will only inflame their madness further.”
“Thank you.” She hurries to match my pace, wrapping the fur around her slender form and securing it with her arms. “I mean it truly. We’ll never know without trying.”
I only grunt in response. Just when I believe I’ve regained control with her, she tilts my entire world off balance again.
I know exactly how this experiment will end, and I resent being forced through this charade.
Yet it will bring her happiness, even though the result will only bring her disappointment.
None of this resembles what having a consort should be like.
Except for the physical claiming. That... exceeds anything I could have imagined.
The light in her eyes, too, and the sensation of her taking my arm, squeezing me with such trust. My entire existence, I’ve only ever been... not enough. A disappointment. Certainly, no one has ever looked at me with joy or happiness illuminating their features.
Perhaps she only seeks to free your brothers because she knows they’re powerful, a treacherous voice whispers in my mind. They represent her only hope of overpowering you. If she can liberate them from their chains again, she might hope to orchestrate another escape.
It’s the only logical explanation.
My fur stands rigid as I descend the spiral stairs into encompassing darkness.
This is folly—expecting anything but treachery.
Will I be the fool, again deceived by a mortal’s fluttering lashes and sweet mouth?
You’re the one choosing to experiment with your brothers, fool.
I barely contain the growl building in my throat.
“Should we have brought food?” she asks from behind me. She’d been forced to release me when we entered the narrow stairwell. “How often do you feed them?”
“Why?” I snarl, spinning toward her in the darkness. Her arms stretch toward the walls for guidance, her face startled and momentarily fearful at my sharp tone. Then she reaches blindly for me, her hand landing softly on my wing.
“Don’t startle me like that. You know I can’t see anything down here. Why do I want to know about feeding them?” she asks. “Because they’re people. Well, you understand my meaning. It’s the compassionate thing to do.”
“We aren’t human,” I growl, turning to continue our descent.
“Compassion isn’t reserved for only humans. It’s wrong to starve any living creature.”
“I feed them once daily.”
“How often do you eat?” she presses.
“Twice daily.”
She makes a distinctly displeased sound. “Well, there you have it. They should eat as frequently as you do. And there’s no justification for them living in such filth and darkness.”
She doesn’t know what she’s asking. Thing and Remus become vicious during feeding times. I deliberately didn’t bring food.
Though perhaps my point would be better proven if I had brought some bear meat with us so she could witness them descend into savage competition like the beasts they are.
Finally, we reach the bottom level. I take the bullwhip in one hand while releasing the bars with the other.
And then I open the door to Hell.