10. In Which Not Much Has Changed for Our Villain and His Villain
Chapter 10
In Which Not Much Has Changed for Our Villain and His Villain
Modern-day Tartarus in the Shadow Realm
V alerius had been enjoying the quiet in his throne room when he felt her call him.
“Valerius,” she beckoned, as soft as a whisper on the wind at first.
“Valerius, dearest,” she called again, this time in a higher pitch.
He ignored her.
“Valerius!” Her sharp tone rang throughout his temple. The guard at the throne room door winced.
“What, Aerelia?” He hated how she assumed he would come calling anytime she wanted him.
“Valerius, come to me,” she begged.
“No,” he spat back. “I am not your lap dog.”
Her scream rattled inside his head, and she would continue until he went to her. Valerius sighed and flashed to the corridor that housed those the Underworld would like to forget. He didn’t mind the Kingdom of the Underworld, but Hades, while polite, wasn’t much of a host. The walls were thick stone lined with torches that lit up just enough so one wouldn’t stumble on the slick floor. The smell of must hung in the stale air. He walked down the hall and flinched when a low growl came from the shadows. Six red eyes glowed just beyond the small circles of light. He proceeded towards the sound cautiously as claws scratched the stone, indicating the creature rose to its feet. The growl turned more menacing.
“Evening, Cerbi,” he said to the shadows and reached into the pocket of his robe. Removing the small object, he tossed it towards the general area where Hades’ hellhound typically lay. It bounced once with a high-pitched squeak and skidded down the hallway to a stop. From the shadows, Cerberus came bounding, his tail wagging and two of his heads panting. One of his heads grabbed the toy and headed back towards Valerius. Dropping the toy at his feet, the hound playfully danced around his legs. Valerius bent to pick up the toy.
“See, bud,” he said to the hellhound. “You’re just misunderstood.” He scratched the ears of one head while another sniffed the air, and the third whimpered and tried to nudge the toy. “Aren’t we all?”
Displaying the toy to Cerberus once again, Valerius flung it behind him. Happily, Cerberus went bounding down the hallway. Valerius found his trip to the prison much more pleasant if the hellhound was otherwise preoccupied. He marched down the hallway, his robe billowing out behind him. Hades knew Valerius came to visit her, it was no secret, and he did not attempt to stop him. The two had an unspoken arrangement. Hades feigned ignorance, and Valerius pretended he never went. Prisoners weren’t allowed visitors, but he was an implicit exception.
The cell located at the farthest end of the hall had a rounded wooden door with carvings of winged demons chiseled into the wood. The halls were always eerily quiet, and it made Valerius uneasy. Just beyond the rows of cell doors, torture was being carried out, and the punishments handed down by Zeus were the most brutal. Silence that engulfed the corridor gave the illusion of being deserted. Valerius knocked twice on the large door; its sound resounded off the stone walls and echoed the entire length of the hallway. A smaller door slid open, and two beady eyes stared at him.
“Yes,” a deep voice said from beyond the door.
“It’s me.”
The smaller door slammed shut with a click, and then the larger door opened, creaking on old hinges.
“What was so urgent, Aere?” Valerius said upon entering the cell. He didn’t acknowledge the guard, but he rarely ever did. He immediately removed his robe, a special rule of hers.
Aerelia was seated on a red silk pillow on a throne Valerius had built for her centuries ago, her wings folded neatly behind her. Long ago, her raven-black wings had had dark, shiny feathers with perfect symmetry. The horns at the apex of her wings were bright white and shone with their own light. Her beauty was envied out of all the Pythian women; it was what had drawn Valerius to her all those years ago. But after her fall, the one that had her banished for eternity, her wings had lost their luster. The hatred she now harbored reflected in her wings as portions had turned to leather, and scars crisscrossed her back, her once-perfect feathers now in disarray. Her horns had changed to talons she spent centuries filing into sharp points. Aerelia was in a sheer, black gown. His mouth watered at the sight of her body. Even after all this time, she still had the power to evoke desire from him. He hated her for that.
“Why didn’t you come when I called the first time?” Aerelia pouted, but Valerius kept his distance. She may be beautiful, but her temper was deadly. Other prisoners were tortured for their crimes. With Aerelia, her crime was much more sinister. Locking her in here kept Olympus safe. Of all the prisoners here in the Underworld, she was one of only a few to be punished by Hades himself. Hades may not have dealt much in the way of eternal damnation, but when he did, his punishments were always fair.
“What was so urgent?” he asked again, annoyed at having to repeat himself.
She slipped down from her throne and seductively walked towards him.
“Only you, my love,” she said sweetly as she circled him. He noticed several more feathers gone from her wings as she passed. She ran her hands along his waist. He hated it; her touch, his response, all of it. She leaned forward and laid a soft kiss on his bare shoulder.
“Why do you not wear your robe when you come to my cell?” She ran her fingertips along his neck, sending a shiver down his back.
“Because you told me not to, Aere,” he said, soft and calm.
“Go away, Thadar,” she commanded by gesturing with her hand. The guard left and slammed the door behind him. He didn’t need to be witness to the sickening mix of love and hate that they shared.
“Why are you still hiding yourself, my love?” She waved her hand, and his concealment disappeared. Valerius stood before her in his true self. His wings, stretching upwards, were jet black, leathery with scales that, when they caught the light, glistened iridescently. He had horns on his at the junction of the wing, but his horns still gleamed white, a remnant of what he used to be before he willingly fell with her.
“On your knees, glike mu. ” She purred her demand. Valerius attempted to be submissive to her, but she was relentless in her pursuit of power and control. Aerelia ran her hands over his shoulders, down to his biceps, and across his chest. She brought her hands up to his throat, massaging his neck slowly, methodically. Valerius braced for it, waiting for her to choke him. She lowered herself behind him and began kissing his neck. Roughly, Aerelia shoved his head sideways, and for a split second, he forgot and hissed.
“What is this about, my love?” he said, his voice strained against the anticipated violence.
“You do not speak unless I ask you, agape ,” Aerelia commanded, her breath hot on his neck. She liked to call him her love, but the term had lost its meaning. She only called him that when she was trying to hurt him.
“You apologize, or you do not finish.” She ran her fingernail sharply down his neck and over his collarbone, drawing blood.
Valerius bit back a sound, trying not to encourage her cruelty.
“Yes, kyrios ,” he said. Master.
Aerelia let go of his head and continued to kiss his neck softly. As much as Valerius hated her treatment of him, her temper was worse. If he could subdue her for a mere few minutes—her thoughts of destroying Olympus, of gaining the throne, of causing chaos and mayhem—would be abandoned temporarily.
She ran her hands over his chest, carefully touching him just enough that he shivered. His stomach muscles contracted as Aerelia ran her hands lower. Valerius had waited several lifetimes for her to love him the way she had before he helped imprison her in this cell. Before, her hatred of all good things had eaten away at her heart until there was nothing left but pain. She traced a line from his navel to the top of his leather pants.
“May I ask a question, kyrio s?” Valerius asked, trying to get her to focus on something other than taking what she wanted.
“Of course, agape . Anything for you,” she purred into his ear, pressing her breasts against his back.
“You seem to be in a good mood,” he began cautiously. “Did you find out something today that made you this happy?”
She purred. “Yes. Your agape has found the keys to her prison.”
Valerius stopped breathing. His eyes widened in panic. He tried to force his voice to sound curious and steady. “How so?”
She nibbled his ear. “You ask a lot of questions.” She grabbed his waistband.
“Open them for me,” she commanded and bit hard onto the muscle between his shoulder and neck. Valerius flinched, not expecting it. He never expected it, truthfully.
The slap could be heard before he felt it. Pain shot through the side of his face and into his eye, like an explosion. He grunted and tried to regain his composure. To show his submission, he lowered his head, his eyes to the floor, and waited. He hated being used this way, but if his life had proven anything, he didn’t deserve to have anything beautiful. Aerelia raised her hand to slap him again, but he caught it this time, his head still down.
“I apologize, kyrios . I will strive to better please you.” Turning his head towards her, Valerius captured her lips, forcing himself not to react. He kissed her slowly to show her he would be better at submitting.
Aerelia nodded. “Open them now, agape .”
He did as she asked and opened his pants. The side of his face stung, and he was sure there was a red mark, but he focused on what she meant. He would worry about the impact later. She was being cryptic, and he had to find out why. If she had found the key, it could mean one of two things. Either she had an escape plan, or she knew where the Serathena was. Making a mental note to discuss this with Hades, he forced himself to be present. He was bare to her except for his pants slung low on his hips.
“Take off your pants, agape .”
“May I rise to take them off, kyrios ?” Valerius asked nicely.
Aerelia nodded but looked hungrily at him as he stood, turning to face her. He kicked his pants to the side and stood utterly vulnerable to her and her temper. She could soothe or beat him; it no longer mattered. She wasn’t capable of any genuine love. She touched his cock, and he jerked. As if even that most tender part of his body sensed she would inflict pain. Aerelia laughed at him, then took him in her hand and began stroking him. Hard. Fast. Painfully. Valerius gritted his teeth. His body had betrayed him time after time, so he wasn’t surprised when he came within a few quick minutes. Aerelia looked at him, his cum covering her hand.
“Wipe me up, agape , and join me in bed. You will please me there next.”
She walked to her bed and lay down, trying to be seductive. It was imposing in the space, but much smaller than her bed had been in his castle on Olympus. It was strange to see furniture in any prison cell, as most prisoners never got a reprieve from their torture.
Sheer, gauzy, black fabric encircled the frame. It was ostentatious, centuries old, and all hand carved. Valerius cleaned himself up with the little towels she always provided. He wanted nothing more than to run. To open a portal and rush back to his throne room and forget all this, forget her. But he wouldn’t. He had promised that first night of her imprisonment that he would always come to her. He had no way of knowing the potential consequences of her drinking from the River Acheron or how one sip could change her. Aerelia had once been the Queen of Pythia, but now she was reduced to this, a shell of the woman he once loved. He proceeded to the bed to deal with whatever punishment she thought up, eyeing her cautiously. She had two leather straps in her hand and an evil smile across her lips.
Valerius took a deep breath and climbed into bed with her.