Chapter 18
Korithax
The preparations for my coronation should have consumed my focus.
They didn’t. Not when I could still feel the tether between myself and the small mortal girl I’d dumped back on Earth. Aran kept me informed, of course. He always did, despite my protests, despite me telling him that I did not give a shit about her.
Daisy was alive. She went back to her college classes and back to work.
She smiled when she needed to, laughing and joking with her friends.
But I knew better, because I had seen it myself.
In the moments when I would awaken from nightmares plagued with her tear-filled ocean eyes, I would go and allow myself to check the scrying mirror.
I would catch glimpses of her life—the wine bottles that consumed her nights, the dark circles she hid under makeup during the day.
I would see her mindlessly fiddling with her hands, lost in her thoughts.
I hated the way she would force her way into my head like a festering wound.
She was, after all, a weak, pathetic mortal.
But it would appear I was also weak, because night after night I would find myself sitting for hours, watching her, like a crazed, obsessed stalker.
Alas, I had bigger things to deal with. My father, the ‘great’ former King of Hell, had finally fallen to permanent bed rest, his ancient body giving up under the weight of too many soul bargains, and too many betrayals.
Whilst yes, we were classed as immortal, immortality didn’t last forever, just a really fucking long time.
Soon, Hell would be mine. Officially and wholly mine.
I commanded the war hounds at the northern borders.
I redrew alliances between some of the other realms that had grown distant from us under my father’s reign.
I oversaw the cleansing of the corruption from the Welcome Circle.
Some of the judges being a little too happy to send undeserving souls to the pits.
I ruled, and I ruled well. A force to be reckoned with, they said.
A king who would shake the foundations of the realms themselves, they said.
I was reviewing plans for the coronation when the fucking summons arrived from the Divine Six.
Again. Did these assholes not tire of seeing my face, because I sure as shit got tired of seeing theirs.
The amount they demanded to see me, you’d think Hell was the only realm they conjured up.
Fuck knows how much time they spend sticking their noses in other realms’ businesses.
The chamber of the Six’s was as insufferable as ever.
Blinding light, cloying sanctimony, and six pairs of eyes that still believed they could command me.
It’s been a solid fifteen thousand years of them trying—since I was just merely five thousand years old, a small boy—I’ll give them respect for their commitment, that’s for sure.
“You will not ascend without a bride,” Seraphiel declares the second I arrive, her voice slicing through the room, angrier than usual. The others nod, silent but with heavy judgement.
I laughed, loud and bitter. “You keep saying, yet here I am, planning my coronation. It’s almost like I do not care about what you have to say.” I say, with a shrug.
Amarithe’s false smile stretches wide. “Without balance, there is no rule, Korithax. It is law.”
Law. Their favourite fucking word. They’re acting like they can’t change the law, like it’s something that is solidified in stone.
I know they can change it; I have seen them do it before with Noxthrallia.
The realm became so corrupt with dark magic that anything they did just went ignored.
So the Divine Six chose to look the other way, because it was too much hassle to do otherwise.
But I think Hell would freeze over before they did anything like that for me.
“No bride, no throne, Korithax,” Seraphiel continues.
“You may not take us seriously. But if you try to ascend that throne without a bride, your kingdom will be burned to ash,” Calrix declares, his flaming sword burning brighter to emphasise his point.
“Is that a threat?” I growl, staring Calrix directly into his glowing, hate-filled eyes.
“It is a promise, Prince of Ruin. I have seen the outcome of you not taking a bride. Time is ticking,” Velentha whispers, looking horrified at what she has seen.
I leave without bowing, untamed smoke curling at my heels as I vanish. Burn my fucking kingdom to the ground? Over my dead body.
When I return to Zeriavoss, I find Aran waiting outside my chamber door, arms crossed.
“I heard,” he says simply.
“Of course you did.” I shove past him, but he follows like the annoying shadow he is.
He hesitates, then, with the fucking gall of someone who had nothing to lose, he mumbles, “You could offer a marriage of convenience.”
I stop dead in my tracks, looking at him for any sign of a joke.
He just stares back at me with a deadpan expression.
I bark a sharp, humourless laugh. “Who the fuck would agree to that? Everybody in this damn kingdom wants that throne. I could not trust anybody with a marriage of fucking convenience, Aran.”
He shrugs. “You only need the ceremony to do as the Uppers wish. Then she stays on Earth, and you rule Hell. No mess, and no real connection.”
“And who, exactly, would I be proposing this to?” I ask, venom dripping from every single word.
He smiles. “Daisy.”
I stand there for a moment, waiting for him to laugh, for him to say he’s joking. There was not a single chance this fool was truly suggesting what I thought he was. That I marry a mortal. He’s lost his godsdamned mind.
“Even if that was a possibility, she hates me,” I mutter.
“She’s alive because of you,” he counters. “And whether you admit it or not, she’s tied to you.”
The second he mutters the words, I feel the tether tug.
I’m still not entirely sure what the tether is, nor do I know how the hell he knows about it.
She is not my soul mate, that’s impossible.
It’s only possible between mortal and mortal, immortal and immortal.
Maybe I accidentally did something when I returned her soul, maybe some of it stayed latched onto me somehow.
She was clearly dying for someone to fill the void in her life, so maybe her soul was clinging to me out of sheer desperation.
I sneer. “I told her she’s pathetic.”
Aran winces, whistling low. “Ouch. Okay. Maybe it will be harder than I initially thought to convince her, but—”
I shake my head, fury rolling through me as I cut him off, “She’d say no. I am not wasting my time, Aran, not on her.”
“She might say no,” he counters. “But what’s the alternative? Find a demoness who’ll stab you in your sleep? A celestial spy who will sell you out?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “At least with Daisy, you know she’s too stubborn to betray you, and too weak to kill you.” He shrugs.
I don’t answer because I hate that it actually made sense.
“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” I grumble, holding the little box in my hand. “You think this will make her say yes?”
Aran nods, chuckling at the box. “If I know Daisy, and I believe I do after our short time together, that will absolutely make her say yes.”
I growl, irritated at the fact that I let him actually talk me into this.
I have never had to ask for anything in my godsdamnned life.
If I wanted it, I took it. Yet I’m about to ask a fucking mortal girl to be my bride, with the added risk of her telling me to go fuck myself.
I have never wanted to strangle the Divine Six more than I do right now.
Their stupid fucking laws about stupid fucking marriage and their stupid fucking threats.
I clench my fists, cracking my neck before slowly exhaling.
“You’d better pray to any God that will deign to listen that she says yes, Aran,” I mumble before vanishing out of Zeriavoss.
I appear in her room silently, sitting on the edge of her bed like a shadow among the little twinkling holiday lights that are wrapped around her headboard.
I can hear her TV playing in her living room.
I shift uncomfortably, impatience getting the better of me.
Before I can storm into the living room, I hear her shut off the TV, the silence seeming deafening now.
I take a deep breath, preparing myself to be an absolute fool.
She enters the room a few minutes later, wearing ridiculous Christmas-themed pyjamas that have little candy canes all over them, rubbing at her eyes as she pushes the door open.
She doesn’t even look at me before her body registers that I’m here, like she, too, can feel the tug between us.
Her eyes snap up to mine, and she freezes.
“Korithax?” She whispers, rubbing her eyes again, then blinking rapidly at me.
“Merry Christmas, little flower,” I say, lifting the present slightly, the corner of my mouth twitching up in an attempt to smile.
She stands staring at me like she isn’t sure whether or not she’s hallucinating. I rise, offering her the small box with another half-smile. Her eyes quickly glance at it, but she doesn’t take it.
“Why are you here?” She asks.
Straight to the point. Good. I exhale slowly, “I’m here to propose something.” She frowns, not deigning to offer me a response, so I continue, “Marriage. A marriage of convenience.”
Silence. Gods, why was my heart hammering in my chest? I fucking hated this. She stares at me for a few more seconds, and then she laughs. A sharp, bitter laugh that feels like a slap across the face.
“You’re insane,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re actually insane if you think I would ever say yes to that.”
I grind my teeth. “It benefits us both. I get a queen and shut the Divine Six up, and in return, I will offer you anything that you desire. Wealth, protection, anything.”
She folds her arms, chin tilting high in defiance. There she is, the stubborn little sunshine. “The Divine Six literally told me I don’t belong in Hell,” she snaps.
“Even more reason to marry you.” I grin. “It’s a way I can piss them off even more than you can imagine.”
Her mouth trembles, her eyes sparking with rage as she begins pacing back and forth in front of me.
“Leave,” she snarls. “You’re a fool for ever thinking I would help you.
I would rather rot than owe you anything.
” She stops dead in front of me, poking a finger into my chest, her hand raising over her head just to reach. “A fool!”
I step closer, grabbing hold of her wrist, pulling it away from my chest. “Just remember, Daisy,” I say with a low growl. “Not only did I give you your soul back, but I saved your damn life.”
She stiffens, looking at my hand wrapped around her small, fragile wrist, then whispers, “And look how that worked out. I’m depressed, I drink myself to sleep every night, and I am more heartbroken each day that passes because I woke up from that day in the shower.”
I flinch before I can stop myself, the words hitting me harder than any blade ever has.
It’s a direct shot straight to my chest, her words landing a hard blow for some strange reason.
She still regrets waking up; she still hates the fact that her attempt on her life didn’t work.
I bare my teeth, the only emotion I’ll allow on my face, hiding how her words have affected me.
“Fine,” I bite out, forcing her hand away so hard she stumbles a step backwards. “Forget it.” I disappear without another word, leaving the gift to sit abandoned on her floor.
“How did it go?” Aran asks as I appear back in my chamber, his presence making me startle.
I turn to him and punch him straight in the face before storming off to the training grounds.
“Not very well then,” I hear him mutter on my way out.