Chapter 1 Hell’s Wedding #2
Melek’s arm looped around my middle as I instinctively leaped forward to intervene. He clapped a hand over my mouth and growled in my ear, “No, Yilan!”
I opened my mouth to argue, but it was too late. The Advisor, who had produced a blade from within that voluminous cloak with his free hand, drew the shining metal against her throat half-an-inch above where the rope strangled the air out of her.
She couldn’t even cry out. Her bloodshot eyes twitched a hair wider, and her body jolted, then she convulsed as a wave of thick red washed over the Advisor’s hand, the rope, her dress…
I sobbed, begging God for a miracle as the light went out of her eyes, and then she slumped over his arm like a ragdoll being carried by a child.
“No… please—” I breathed, but Melek only pulled me aside, gathering me into his chest and hiding the sight with his thick body, stroking my hair, whispering in my ear as the women in the chamber screamed and pleaded. Yet, the Nephilim men only continued their chanting.
Lucifer smiled as the murderer let the woman drop, then reached down to her body, using sausage-thick fingers to untangle the twisted rope from around her bloodied neck. When he straightened, he stepped out into the circle, carrying the now crimson rope to his king.
Not Gall. Lucifer.
The Fallen smiled when the rope bloodied his hand as he took it from his loyal man, who simply returned to his place outside the circle, ignoring the growing puddle at his feet, and the body that had been vital and breathing just moments earlier, but now crumpled on the ground, bleeding out like a butchered animal.
Perhaps most disturbing of all, though Istral hid her face in her hands and began to shriek, Gall only widened his eyes and licked his lips once.
He didn’t protest in the slightest. The gentle, childlike man I’d known months earlier, who’d stood in my defense countless times, even when he was hurt for it, had just watched a woman be murdered and barely blinked.
‘Melek—’
‘I know. I saw it too.’
‘That isn’t Gall.’
Melek tensed at my back. ‘I refuse to believe my son is beyond hope,’ he said, his voice deep and granite-hard in my head.
I squeezed his hand. It hurt so badly to see Gall misused this way. Still, I wasn’t convinced that Gall was blameless in this, as Melek believed. I was terrified he’d truly given himself over. Could there be any recovery from that?
Unaware of our scrutiny, Lucifer took the deep-red rope and began to knot it, smiling as he spoke, his words once again not loud enough, yet still heard between the echoes of the other men’s voices.
“When the Red Knot tightens under the veil, and the Maiden’s Sigil warms the skin, her seed shall awake. Her blood will alight.”
Istral jolted upright, her hands snapping to her sides as if they’d been pulled from her face.
Tears still coursed down her soft cheeks, and her eyes went round as plates, but she barely twitched as Lucifer reached for her cloak with his now-bloodied hands, fiddled with something on the front, then threw the lapels aside so the thick fabric snapped and Istral was revealed.
Oh God.
She’d been dressed in beautiful, white lace—a sweeping skirt rounding her hips, then flaring to the floor, her breasts covered, though any watcher’s eye was drawn back to the hint of a shadow under the tight bodice, where her nipples might be.
Everything about the dress might have been modest if there was no hint of the sheer space in the lace—it circled the base of her neck and covered her arms, hugging her breasts and pushing them high. Yet, her stomach was bare.
Silver chains attached at her ribs and hips, crossed over her belly, each looped around a thick, bone ring, etched in concentric lines of writing. From this distance I couldn’t read the words, but I suspected I didn’t want to.
Lucifer took the reddened rope and twisted it around that bone circle, the blood seeping into those carved letters, his voice deep, but full of ecstatic thrill.
“By copper and knot, by fire and shadow, the queen shall bear a child of thunder…” Lucifer’s voice boomed through the chamber and Gall tensed, growling as his grandfather continued to touch his mate, twisting that rope through the circle and around, then threading it through again, leaving red smears on the bone, and Istral’s stomach.
I begged God to give my sister strength, to give her peace, to not let this be the moment when her control failed her, and she panicked.
She seemed transfixed, though. Her wide eyes still seeping tears, but locked on Lucifer. Her body trembling from head to toe.
‘Melek, we can’t let this go on—’
‘He isn’t hurting her.’
‘He’s terrifying her!’
‘She’d be killed the moment we intervened. Look at him, Yilan. Look at Lucifer.’
I didn’t want to give that creature another moment of my attention, but my eyes were drawn to his face, his skin near-glowing in the strange light of the black flame, his eyes reflecting that glow in strange ways that made no sense.
“…born the Heir to the Fallen Throne, Ruler of the Kingdom of the Krow, he will rise. Eyes like dawn’s first ray, voice that bends shadow to will. He will rise!”
Poor Gall shuddered and swayed, fighting the urge to lay hands on the Fallen who was still touching Istral.
Thank God, she hadn’t looked down. Hadn’t seen the blood drying on her own skin, or the strange, sickly light now emanating from those words, etched on the bone and filled with transferred blood.
“The blessing of the Heir carries heavy debt. The power borne of the virgin queen will ride in his blood, and the debt will seek its owing.”
I didn’t understand the words. Couldn’t make sense of them, I could only watch on, helpless and grieving, as I watched my sister unified to her God-given mate… but through a ritual born out of the dark. And virgin? Didn’t he know? Or was this just another of his pageants?
‘Melek, we can’t just stand by!
‘You must. We must! We have to let him believe we’re powerless—’
The final loop of the rope covered the last of the words cut into the bone warmed by my sister’s skin. Lucifer cackled and finally stood back, taking his reddened hands off of her.
“She stands! The Pure! The Untouched! Receiving the sacrifice, she stands! And by every authority in my possession, she will bear the strongest Heir! She is your Ruler—bow and give the Queen her due!”
Every man—all the Advisors, and even Gall—knelt, bowing their heads to Istral, who remained frozen in Lucifer’s glowing gaze.
Their incantation reached a feverish pitch, their words coming faster, drawn through tight lips.
The cries of the other women sprinkling through their chants like salting a wound.
Gall straightened as the incantations cut off, the voices hanging in the air for half a breath before Lucifer smiled, gesturing to Istral. “It is done. The bond is forged. She will provide your heir, carrying my power. Kiss your bride, my Son. Kiss your queen. The undefiled mother!”
I wanted to scream at him to “Stop! Not like this!” as, shaking, but beaming with pride, Gall stared down at Istral, and took her sweet face in his hands.
She startled like the trance had been broken. Her hands whipping up to grip Gall’s as he leaned over her and kissed her like a lover.
My insides twisted, simultaneously repulsed at what had just occurred, and mightily relieved to see that Gall kissed her with the gentleness and awe I would always have expected from him. Yet, that marveling joy had no place in this darkness. It felt like a light.
Melek’s hand tightened on my arm where he’d grabbed me to stop me jumping in. We both watched on, heartbroken, as the people we loved most in this world were tied together in something deeply unholy.
‘If only we’d known. If only we could have—’
There wasn’t time to hear what Melek wished we could have done.
Gall straightened from this kiss, his eyes glazed with desire, but his cheeks pink with innocent awkwardness when he remembered where he was.
I prayed fervently that the sweet, childlike man I’d known was still in there.
Yet, it was hard to believe while he stood here, bloodied by a sacrifice and shaking with need for his mate.
I couldn’t reconcile the uncertainty in his gaze when he looked around the chamber—like a child’s.
As if he didn’t see the symbols, the darkness, the flames…
only a wedding, and the promise of love.
“Oh, Gall…” I breathed.
Melek held me, both of us grieving—until a muttered voice broke the silence of the chamber and suddenly, all warmth was gone.
Lucifer’s head snapped to his left, towards a man at the edge of the circle. Gall tensed and his face… His expression shifted.
Lucifer hissed something at the other men that I didn’t catch, then turned back to Gall, whose eyes were suddenly dead, black, and fiery with rage.
“You think I don’t deserve a pure queen?” Gall snarled, his tone so thick with dark warning, my skin went cold.
One of the Advisors blinked and pulled his slave in front of him. “I wasn’t—that wasn’t directed at you, Sire. I only—”
“Kill him,” Lucifer muttered. “Use the others.”
Gall nodded once. Istral sucked in a gasp and reached for him, but Lucifer smiled as Gall stared at the man.
There was a single breath during which nothing seemed to happen. My fear gave way to confusion, and then to hope. Was it possible Gall wouldn’t—
The man blinked. His brows pinched over his nose and his chin dropped. He looked down at himself and his frown deepened.
Then the slave he held by the leash shrieked, and pointed down at the seeping, black liquid appearing in spots through that thick cloak.
The Advisor gave a strange cry, dropped the leash, and began fumbling at the button at his throat.
As he tore the garment off, first, his skin speckled, then it became marred by blackened veins crawling from his heart, up his neck, like thick vines creeping over a wall.
His eyes went wide, his jaw clenched, and he clawed at his own throat—but there was barely a hoarse cry before he jerked, then was flipped to his back on the floor, nails digging, and body twitching, flopping like a dying fish.
“Oh, God!” Diadre cried as the man’s skin erupted. I gasped, stomach turning, burying my face in Melek’s shoulder, gripping him as he held me tightly, whispering to me that it was almost over. Not to look. Don’t give in…
I trembled like a leaf—and Melek wasn’t much better—when he tapped my back to say it was safe to look again.
By then, the Advisor was little more than a crumpled cloth on the floor, and Lucifer had returned his glowing gaze to Gall.
“Well done, Son,” he murmured, smiling like a father to a young child. “Very well done. You’re getting stronger.”
Gall nodded. His expression was blank, but his eyes kept flicking back to Istral, who stood stiffly, her body side-on to the carcass on the floor. I prayed she hadn’t looked and wouldn’t remember.
“You did the right thing,” Lucifer said, seemingly from nowhere. But Gall’s brow pinched like he would argue. Lucifer shook his head. “Your royal power is true—but if you don’t hold it tightly, someone will wrestle it from you. Don’t let it happen.”
Gall’s face dragged for the floor, but I wept because he nodded in agreement.
Then Lucifer clapped him on the shoulder, as if they’d done nothing but partake in a game—and won—before he turned to address the rest of the men.
“Escort the King and Queen back to their chambers, then stand guard. They will be cloistered for the next five days to give them the best chance of conceiving an heir.”
A wave of sickening male cheering went up in the room. Melek grabbed my arm again because I instinctively reached for my knife.
But then, Gall leaned down to Istral and whispered something in her ear, something we couldn’t hear over the cajoling of the men.
Istral nodded, still scared—until Gall swept her up to his chest. I watched my sister sag into his arms, bury her face in his neck, cup her sweet hand over his shoulder, and let him carry her from the chamber.
I prayed she didn’t understand the nasty words the men called, or the gleaming-eyed jokes the Advisors made. I was grateful when Jann stepped up beside Gall as an escort, pulling Diadre in his wake—and leaned into Gall’s ear. I prayed he was wise with his words.
But as Gall carried her out of the chamber and we crept around the edge of the shadows to follow them, my sister raised her head just barely off of Gall’s shoulder, her eyes peering over that broad expanse… directly at me. And her gaze was pleading.
I sucked in a breath and leaped forward the same moment one of Melek’s hands clapped over my mouth, and the other arm looped around my middle.
My mate—my very strong, very frustrating, very over-protective mate, swung me off my feet and held me to him in an iron grip, refusing to let me free until I promised him through the link that I wouldn’t go after her while the others were still present.
‘Nothing has been done to hurt her, Yilan,’ Melek sent grimly.
‘You think seeing all of that hasn’t hurt her?!’
‘You know what I mean. We can get her out—get both of them out—when they’re alone. Five days, he said. Just like Jann assured us.’
‘I don’t give a flying fuck what your traitorous friend—’
‘I will hold you here and refuse to follow, unless you promise me that you won’t take her until the others have gone.’ His voice held the deep, impenetrable strength of solid rock.
‘But—’
‘Promise me you’ll do this wisely. Promise me.’
I struggled one more time, but it was pointless. Like struggling with a brick wall. Tears pinched my eyes, but I needed my sight, so I swallowed them back.
‘I promise,’ I murmured reluctantly. ‘But we’re getting them out tonight.’
‘Agreed,’ Melek returned grimly. Then finally released me so I could walk.
It wasn’t difficult to hurry out of that dark chamber where such sickness seemed to come alive. It wasn’t hard to keep to the shadows on the heels of the entourage, and reach for my sister’s mind, reassuring her.
It was very hard that she didn’t reply. It was heartbreaking that she didn’t look up, even though I knew she could sense me.
So, I spent the remaining hour until they would be alone planning precisely how I would slit the throat of every man who’d watched her endure that.
Every. Single. One.