Chapter 30
MINE!
The most primitive part of me demands I take my mate back to my room and comfort her. Seeing her in their arms is driving me crazy. Even if they are my brothers, I am the King.
No.
It’s not about me. If my mate is happy in their arms, is comforted by their presence, then that’s all that matters. I can swallow my pride for her.
Fuck, I don’t even know this woman, this tiny mortal who the universe deemed a fit for me, the King of Hell, a monster.
Maybe it was wrong?
I close my eyes and find her in my castle, my chest feeling warm knowing I’m providing for her. Like most nights, she lies in Bast’s arms, but tonight Ruin is also in the room, though not in the bed.
I’m unsure if that’s a comfort or not.
I’d brought him here because she seemed to miss him when they spoke of him at breakfast. I hadn’t thought about the way it would twist up my black heart to watch her with him. The familiar way they have with each other is driving me crazy.
I want her to be comfortable with me.
Bast and Ruin talk, though I don’t care to tune in; I just needed to see her, make sure she’s okay.
If you can even call it that.
Rome needs to die…
The beast inside has been calling for his blood since she wrapped those dainty little arms around me for the first time.
I want to hold her, as I did the night she attempted to take fate into her own hands, but I have no reason to, not when others are much better at comforting her.
I need to do something with all of this restless energy before I go topside and bring my mate back the wings of that filthy angel. The others might not be able to kill him, but I’m pretty sure I could.
I’d be willing to try, even if it killed me. I’d do enough damage to ensure he never had the power to touch her again.
Pressing my thumb and finger into my mouth, I blow a high-pitched whistle, calling my hounds.
I sit alone in the throne room, a room I don’t often have a use for, but it’s a good place to be left alone. Nobody ever checks here.
It’s imposing, with high ceilings and dark stone, just like the rest of the castle, but the only point of this room is to hold court.
A dais, six stairs high, houses my throne; behind it, red curtains are draped down the wall, a red carpet runner leads up the stairs, with a ridiculously large chandelier overhead.
None of it’s me.
I’d made it because I was mirroring the style of the kingdom in Heaven; little did I know, most of it was made as a way to stroke his ego.
A howl sounds from deep in the castle, and I know my hounds are close, even before the screams of imps answer.
Hexsade, Brimstone, and Malice, or Hex, Brim, and Mal.
The closest things I’ve had to friends in centuries, and yes, maybe they’ve eaten a few imps…but who’s to say they didn’t deserve it?
Hex and Brim come flying into the throne room, damn near trampling over each other, tongues swinging, leaving a trail of drool behind them.
Mal is far too sophisticated for their antics and walks in slowly, watching them, eyes full of disgust.
She’s not fooling me, though; those two idiots are her idiots.
Mal makes it all the way to the throne before Brim or Hex can get it together, but when she sits at the foot of the stairs and lets out a growl that's more demonic than canine, both males snap to attention, quickly making their way to sit on either side of her before me.
I can’t help but smile as I look down at them. Mal is a queen, much like my own.
I need to introduce them!
The thought excites me, and I feel the shadows pulse around me, my form shuddering as my powers threaten to pour over.
Right. I need to burn some of this off first, hence calling my hounds to begin with.
I push out of my throne and make my way down the stairs, rubbing a hand over Mal’s head that makes her yip and the other two whine.
“You know I don’t have a favorite,” I tell them, and with a snap of my fingers, a huge steak drops to the floor before them.
If I expect them to help me torture souls, I need to ensure they are properly fed, or what kind of owner am I?
I watch as Hex and Brim snap at each other, feral and ravenous, but still allowing Mal to get the first of the meal.
At the door, I turn back, looking at my throne, and for the first time since I made this castle, I think I finally know what this room needs, what it’s been missing.
What I’ve been missing.
It only takes a moment to envision, as if it were always there, just out of reach.
With a snap of my fingers, I hear it drop into place, but even having pictured it in my mind, I’m not prepared.
The dais is larger now to properly fit both thrones, and while I’ve never cared for my own, I can’t help but see the beauty in them together.
Horns from demons either killed at my hand or fallen to the wars make up the back of the chair.
Forged in the pits of lava in the lowest ring, obsidian coats them to keep them forever intact.
A reminder of what this realm is, what it was built on.
The cushions are blood red, plush, and more comfortable than they should be for how little they’re used.
Both thrones match; one just slightly smaller than the other but still fit for a queen.
Seeing the two thrones together, picturing her beside me…
A mate.
My mate.
Something wet nudges my hand, snapping me from my thoughts. I look down to find Mal at my feet, watching me, concern shining in her eyes.
“I’m okay, girl.” I rub the spot behind her ear that makes her go boneless, chuckling when she drops to the floor to give me her belly.
And Ruin thinks they're dangerous.
“Let’s go torture some souls. I have someone I want you to meet later.” I can’t see my face, but I feel like the smile on my face must look strange because my hounds seem confused.
You and me both, guys.
Punishing the damned.
It’s always been something I enjoy, but even that doesn’t seem to be enough today.
Not when my mate is back in the castle, still at the mercy of Rome, an angel at that.
High and mighty, intended to protect and help mankind, he’s twisted his powers and used them to terrorize a mortal woman who did nothing but be born to the wrong family.
And they say we’re disgusting.
My shadows jump, rolling over my skin of their own accord as my power continues to surge. I’d intended to use some of it to try and calm myself, but instead it seems as though all I’ve done is made my thirst for blood even greater.
My hounds run and play, yipping and playfully snapping at each other, full and happy as they fly past me back down to the dungeons that they guard below the castle.
At the moment it’s empty, but even still, they prefer it to the rest of the castle, except for the occasional times they find their way to my room to sleep in my bed.
My wings are covered in gore, blood, and possible pieces of lesser demons who needed to be handled.
Not only do I torture the souls of those who deserve it, but I must also keep my own kingdom in check.
Meaning any who tries to escape must be reminded who they answer to.
Me.
I’m so lost in thought, I don’t even know where I am or what I’m doing until the tiniest gasp of air frees me from myself.
I blink past my rage to find Aerilyn in front of me as she moves through the dining hall from the kitchen.
A glass of something falls from her hand, shattering on the hard stone floor, but she doesn’t even flinch.
Even though I’m positive the glass must have hit her, she doesn’t seem to care, and as her eyes roam over me.
I can’t find it to make myself look away.
What does she see when she looks at me?
A monster.
A voice that sounds a lot like my father’s whispers in my ear, and I grind my teeth against the urge to tell it to fuck off. First of all, because it’s not real, and second, because it’s probably right.
My mouth is moving before I can think it through as the silence threatens to suffocate me.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes snap up to meet mine, and I see them narrow in question. “That you’re mated to me, to a monster.”