Chapter 84
“A person should always choose a costume which is in direct contrast to her own personality.”
—LUCY VAN PELT, IT’S THE GREAT PUMPKIN, CHARLIE brOWN
I could barely recognize the woman looking back at me in the mirror. Shem slid up behind me, pulling my long hair back over my shoulder. He gently kissed up the side of my neck.
“You look incredible, Lilith,” he murmured against my skin, drawing his fingers up and down my bare arms so gently that my skin erupted in gooseflesh.
Jezebel had braided half of my hair up and around my head and left the rest down, curling it into long, loose waves that hung down my shoulders.
The dress Shem had chosen for me was made out of a fabric that I was certain didn’t exist on Earth. It seemed to be made of black liquid. It clung to my curves so intimately that it left nothing to the imagination. The sleeves draped off my shoulders, leaving my collarbones exposed, and there was a long, scandalous slit up the front of my left leg that stopped at my hips.
When I moved, the folds in the liquid silk seemed to turn to a deep crimson before my eyes, as if the material couldn’t decide what color it wanted to be. The warring shades of midnight and scarlet bled together in intricate lacelike patterns at the slightest touch .
My makeup was so expertly applied that I could barely tell I was wearing any, except for the fact that my moss-green eyes seemed impossibly large, and my lips looked too plush to be my own.
“Fucking hell, Lilith. You’re hot as fuck.” Jezebel grinned at me through the mirror as Shem continued to gently worship each piece of exposed flesh with his lips, causing me to shiver. “Ramel doesn’t stand a chance.”
“He’s going to be so pleased with you,” Shem murmured in my ear, his hot breath causing me to tighten, making my arousal painfully obvious beneath the dress. I smirked and swatted at Shem, laughing nervously.
I wasn’t sure why, but I felt strangely nervous about seeing Ramel. What if he didn’t like it? Would I care if he didn’t?
Yes, I would care. I wanted him to like how I looked. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to want me, even though he had told me time and time again that he already did.
I tried not to dwell on the sharp pang of guilt that battered through my chest at the thought that I was beginning to truly crave his affection. I couldn’t live for eternity fighting this. He had been right. I needed to try to forgive myself. I needed to try to move on and let myself be happy.
Shem laced his fingers through mine. Jezebel had taken quite a bit of time with my hands; she had painted them black with a body paint that had dried so thoroughly on my skin that it didn’t transfer when I touched things. She had tipped each finger with long, glossy black nails that were sharpened to a murderous point.
“This is what you looked like before Yahweh turned you mortal,” Shem said, his voice thick with longing and a melancholy sort of sadness. I glanced down at our entwined hands curiously.
“This is what Ramel’s hands look like when he’s in his Reaper form. Well, without the nails,” I laughed.
Jezebel came up to my other side, grinning. She had changed as well, into a backless, form-fitting cocktail dress. Just as Shem had predicted, her dress was black, but it sparkled when she moved, giving the illusion that she was wearing a piece of the night sky. Her black stilettos clipped on the ground as she stepped closer to me, making her appear much taller than she actually was.
She had been right about the pink collar. It did take away from the elegance of the outfit. Black leather would have suited her better, but I had a feeling messing with her aesthetic was part of the punishment.
She threaded her fingers through my other hand and smiled down at me.
“You ready, little Hell Queen?” she asked, the title rolling off her tongue easily. I almost laughed, but they were both watching me so seriously it suddenly didn’t seem funny. I swallowed and nodded.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
We made our way to the dining hall, where I was told the majority of the festivities would be held. The halls were bustling with demons who had dressed for the occasion. Females floated by in massive gothic gowns, and the men were in three-piece suits; some had gone as far as donning top hats and black gloves. All of them looked incredible. As outlandish as most of the outfits were, none of them really felt like costumes. It simply felt as if I had stepped into another time.
Every demon we passed either bowed or curtseyed to me as we walked, and I felt my cheeks flush redder and redder the closer we came to the hall.
“What is this adorable little blush for?” Shem asked, pinching my cheek playfully.
“I’m just not used to being the center of attention,” I whispered in a hushed tone. I had spent my whole life trying my best to fly under the radar. I always kept my head down and worked hard to go unnoticed. To all of a sudden be treated like royalty was an adjustment. “I feel like everyone’s looking at me.”
“That’s because they are.” Jezebel beamed at me, something like pride shining in her eyes. “As they should, girl. You’re fucking stunning, and you’re our queen. We’ve been waiting for you for millennia. Everyone is super excited to have you back here where you belong.”
I wiped my sweating palms on the front of my dress, smiling at her nervously. “I don’t feel like a queen. I just feel like me.”
Shem threw his arm over my shoulders and waved his arm ahead of us, using his magic to open the large double doors that led to the dining hall. “You’ll always be you , Lilith,” he purred, smirking at my expression as I took in the transformed dining room before us. “ You just happen to also be the Queen of Hell.”
The three of us stepped over the threshold into the nearly unrecognizable space. All the tables had been cleared out to the perimeter of the massive room, revealing a large dance floor that was lit from beneath with a haunting violet light.
Couples waltzed across the floor in perfect synchronicity to the haunting notes of the bone organ that had been set up in the far corner. A beautiful female demon dressed in an ancient gothic gown played the instrument expertly, her entire body moving in pace with the music as she played.
The ceiling had been bewitched to show the endless night sky with a thousand jack-o’-lanterns floating over our heads, bobbing like apples in mid-air. Green flames flickered in the hollow shells of the cream, mauve, and licorice-colored pumpkins, adding an eerie ambiance to the already otherworldly violet glow that emanated from beneath the feet of the dancers. The long table that Ramel, Shem, and I typically ate was nowhere to be seen. Only the large black-lacquer throne they normally sat me in remained. Standing next to the throne, looking fucking impeccable in an all-black suit, was my husband.
Ramel stood with a sort of otherworldly confidence that made me wonder how I had ever believed he was human when I had thought he was Reaver. His hands were in his pockets, and his hazel eyes snapped to meet mine the moment I entered the room, as if we were two magnets doomed to be drawn to one another for eternity.
Without taking his eyes off me, Ramel took a step forward. The dancers seemed to naturally part for him, clearing a path between us. My heart fluttered in my chest as he approached. He looked like he was in pain, and I frowned at the tightness in his jaw. The world fell away with each step he took, and the soul-stirring notes from the bone organ wrapped us up in a cocoon of stinging emotion.
Shem squeezed my fingers gently before sliding away, leaving me alone with Ramel, who was looking at me as if he were a dying man and I was the last earthly being he would ever see.
“Lilith,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. He swallowed and reached out with gentle fingers, tucking a strand of my hair back behind my ear. “You look beautiful.”
I gave him a shaky smile, unsure why I felt so nervous. I had spent every second of the last month in his presence. He had seen me at my worst, but this moment felt significant somehow. It felt monumental as if two worlds that had been on a collision course for so long were finally slamming into one another.
He held out a hand to me, bending at the waist as he did so. The movement felt like it belonged in another time, but he made it look effortless and suave.
“Dance with me?” he asked, watching my face so intently I felt he could read my thoughts.
“I don’t know how,” I whispered, and the corner of his mouth tilted up.
“I do. I won’t let you fall.”
I glanced down at his hand, and for some reason, I felt like he was talking about more than just dancing.
“You promise?” I asked, and his expression sobered.
“I promise, Lilith. Take my hand.”
I met his eyes for one final beat as he waited for me to accept his invitation. Finally, I slid my fingers into his waiting palm and was rewarded with the most tender look I had ever seen on his devilishly handsome face.
Without another word, he tugged me into his chest and swept me away onto the dancefloor, seamlessly merging us into the perfect choreography alongside the rest of the dancers.
At first, I felt stiff and awkward next to him. I didn’t know where to put my feet and was worried I would trample all over his toes. I glanced up at him with flushed cheeks, finding myself feeling unsure .
He smiled down at me with one hand nestled gently on my waist. “Don’t overthink it; just let me lead,” he murmured into my ear. Instead of trying to anticipate his next step, I relaxed into him and allowed my body to just react to the movement. The achingly familiar scent of frankincense flooded my senses, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of nostalgia.
“We’ve done this before, haven’t we?” I asked, my voice so quiet I wasn’t sure he would hear me over the painfully beautiful music.
His eyes shone, and he nodded.
“Many times.”
My heart squeezed, and for reasons I didn’t understand, I felt like I might cry.
“I… I have this feeling in my chest,” I admitted, and he cocked his head to the side, watching me carefully as he spun us expertly across the glowing violet floor. He didn’t speak. He just waited, giving me room to get there on my own.
“I feel like I’ve missed you.” My voice cracked, and a warm, shivering tear slid down my cheek as I looked up at him. “I’ve missed you so much — but that doesn’t make any sense. You’ve been here this whole time.”
Without letting go of me or even missing a step, he leaned forward and kissed away the tear that had fallen. I quivered in his arms and swallowed against the painful tightness that had grown in my throat.
“It makes sense, Lilith,” he murmured against my cheek. “I’ve missed you too.” He pulled back, and his own eyes looked glossier than usual. His voice was rough, and that tightness in his jaw seemed to have intensified.
“I’ve missed you so much that sometimes I am grateful that Yahweh gave me a thousand years without your memory because I don’t know that I would have survived that long without you by my side.”
The song began to slow down, and he expertly moved us closer to the throne as the final notes trembled around us.
He brought us to a halt and turned to face the massive crowd of demons. They had also stopped dancing and had turned their attention to us as if waiting for a speech of some kind.
I scanned the crowd and frowned as reality seemed to flicker in and out of focus around us. Suddenly, the great hall disappeared, and I saw a brief flash of a bustling city street. The phenomenon only lasted a moment before I found myself back in our dining hall. Ramel squeezed my fingers gently when I tensed and leaned over to murmur in my ear.
“The veil is thinning. We’ll begin to get more and more frequent flashes of Heaven and Earth.”
“Can they see through to Hell the same way?” I wondered out loud.
“Most humans are blind to such things, but the angels can see us.” He gestured to the crowd of demons still watching us, and I gaped as several angels in both their winged and human forms stepped through holes in the air where the veil was thinnest.
“We usually call a truce on Samhain,” Ramel explained. “It’s too easy for us to step into each other’s domains. It makes more sense to just agree to party instead of fight when the worlds are so closely intertwined.”
“This is unbelievable,” I whispered, running my fingers through the air in front of me and marveling at how the threads of reality seemed to shimmer and sparkle beneath my fingertips. It was as if I were strumming the strings of a harp.
He slid a hand around my waist and gently tugged me closer to his side, dropping a soft kiss on the top of my head.
“The night has only just begun,” he said ominously before taking a small step forward.
“Demons and angels!” He addressed the room, and everyone fell deathly silent. Shem appeared on my left, a mischievous smirk painted on his face. Ramel paused and glanced at me, excitement causing his eyes to burn beneath the candlelight.
“In the shadows of the Samhain moon, I present to you your lost queen.” Ramel’s voice boomed through the room, demanding rapt attention from every single demon and angel in attendance.
“Now free from the unjust purgatorial grasp of Yahweh, Lilith will reclaim her throne.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. The room was so quiet, and Ramel’s words were so heavy I was struggling to come to terms with the reality of what was happening.
This was real. These demons were truly going to crown me as their queen. I swallowed, suddenly missing the days when my biggest problems had been making rent.
Shem stepped forward and took over. Ramel waved his hand in the air before him, and my eyes widened as a crown of black flowers materialized out of thin air. He moved to stand behind me as Shemhazai addressed the waiting crowd.
“For thousands of years, we have suffered through Yahweh’s reign.” Shem’s voice cut like a guillotine through the silence, and several of the angels in attendance physically winced.
“He nearly eradicated the mortals, trapped our queen in His bowl of nothing, and turned our king against her. He trapped our words and used us as pawns in His sick games.”
His anger was palpable and contagious. It spread like a virus through the audience, and I saw his rage reflected back at us in many of our guests’ faces.
“Tonight, Lilith will ascend into her true power, and we will end Yahweh’s reign once and for all. He will be punished for His sins, and we will relish in His suffering!”
Cheers exploded from the demons in attendance. The angels began to shuffle, eyes darting back and forth restlessly. This wasn’t just a coronation; this was a declaration of war. Knowing that Samhain was usually a truce, the weight of Shem’s words buzzed through me. This night was more than just me reclaiming my throne; this night marked the beginning of Ramel and Shem’s final stand against God.
A potent cocktail of pride and fear rolled through me. I straightened and held my head high, looking out at my soon-to-be subjects with a growing sense of responsibility.
They were mine. They were all mine, and I would do whatever needed to be done to protect them from Yahweh.
The dining hall flickered in and out of focus again. This time, instead of the mortal realm, I caught a glimpse of Heaven. I thought I could see a silhouette of a man standing by what I knew was the pit that held Yahweh’s Sorter of Souls. However, before I could get too close of a look, reality shivered back into focus again, and I was back in the House of the Fallen.
Once the cheers had died down, Shem continued. “Ramel, Lilith’s Reaper of Death and Keeper of the Scythe, shall crown her.”
I felt the tiny hairs on my head brush against the crown of deadly flowers as Ramel lowered the piece onto my brow. Once it was settled, he wrapped his hands around my hips and pulled me firmly back into him, biting down on the side of my neck hard enough to make me gasp.
“Mine,” he growled into my ear as the demons erupted into another explosion of cheers. I shuddered and leaned back into his chest as he glared out at the audience over my shoulder. I knew he was giving them a silent threat. I was his, and he would kill anyone who threatened me. Now that we had access to a scepter, no one was safe from Ramel’s wrath.
“Bow down, citizens of darkness, and hail the return of Lilith, our eternal queen. Let the flames of Hell burn through Yahweh’s repressive restraints, and from the ashes, a new era will dawn. A reign born of temptation and fucking damnation!”
Shem roared the last line of his speech, and the demons that had already been cheering exploded in excitement. They began throwing themselves to the ground, bowing before us.
For a long moment, the angels remained still, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Then, to my shock, an angel dressed all in black with auburn hair got to his knees and bowed his head along with the rest of the demons. Several other angels followed suit, and my heart skipped a beat in my chest.
What did that mean?
“Do you see that, Lilith?” Ramel’s hot breath against my ear sent a roll of pleasure through my core. “Do you see how they bow for you? Even Heaven’s angels get on their knees for the Queen of Hell.” He bit into my neck again. I felt my nipples peak beneath my dress, and he ran his fingers lightly over my breasts, growling against me in approval.
“Does the sight of them groveling before you excite you?” he asked, nipping the side of my neck gently. I glanced over at Shem to find him watching us, his eyes shining with amusement.
“I think it does. Tell us, Lilith. Tell us how much you enjoy the sight of them crawling at your feet.”
Ramel’s grip tightened on my hips, and he slid his fingers over my dress, tracing lazy circles over my midriff. “Tell me you like it.”
I couldn’t deny it. I liked it. I was burning with a rush of possessiveness and power. I had never felt powerful before, and now, watching all these immortal beings debase themselves before me made me suddenly feel invincible. It made me feel for the first time like I mattered.
“I like it,” I whispered, and both Shem’s and Ramel’s lips curled at my words.
“We knew you would, deathtrap.” Ramel kissed the side of my cheek from behind as we looked out together over the hall filled with our people.
“Welcome home,” he whispered, and I felt an unfamiliar rush of happiness swell in my chest at his words.
Home.
This was my home.
Reality flickered again, and the outline of the man I had seen standing by Yahweh’s Sorter of Souls seemed to be staring at me. I couldn’t make out his face in the sudden blinding white of Heaven that bore through the fabric of reality. It took a moment for me to realize that I couldn’t make out the man’s face because it always seemed to be changing.
Was that Yahweh?
I could feel God’s wrath through the thin veil that separated our two worlds and shivered.
Something about the way His unearthly eyes bore into me told me that this night would be the end of life as I knew it.
I just wasn’t sure if the ending would be a happy one.