Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Amelia
D arkness lives inside me now. It grows, festers, and invades me until the only thing I know is sin and shadow. But I couldn't be happier.
It's been a month since I last stood here. A month since I returned to Hell.
Thirty days of Damien's devotion. Thirty nights of his worship. He's given me everything; more than I ever imagined I could have. I've been drowning in his love, suffocating in the way he touches me, in the way he claims me. It's been heaven.
But sometimes, we crave a little hell.
I turn, and he's there. Damien, my dark god, my executioner, my salvation. He stands before me, his eyes reflecting the ruin we left behind. Our breaths mingle in the space between us, thick with more than just desire.
We came here to play. To defile the graveyard we built.
I smile, slow and wicked, and reach for my necklace, the one he gifted me months ago. Damien once confessed he placed a tracker inside it.
"Now, that would be cheating," I murmur, holding his gaze as I wrap the chain around my fingers. I rip it straight off. The diamonds snap, and I let it fall to the dirt at my feet.
His nostrils flare, obsidian flashing behind his eyes. I see the moment he decides exactly what he's going to do to me.
I spin on my heel and run into the village.
The first few seconds are silent.
Then I hear a dark chuckle.
He gave me a head start.
The ground is uneven beneath me, dirt mixing with the ashes of those who once lived here. There's nothing left. No people. No animals. No vegetation. Just ruin. Just death. Just the memory of the village that tried to bury me; and the man who burned it to the ground.
And God, I'm wet.
The night air burns against my skin as I push forward, dodging the remains of crumbled cottages. I listen intently, waiting for the sound of his pursuit.
Nothing.
It unsettles me. Thrills me.
He's here. I know it. He's waiting. Watching.
The question is: where?
I risk a glance over my shoulder.
Nothing but darkness.
My heart pounds, adrenaline making me dizzy. I lunge forward, aiming for the shattered remnants of the place of worship ahead: the elder's shrine. Its skeletal remains stretch toward the sky like twisted fingers. If I can just—
A shadow shifts in the corner of my vision.
Too late.
I pivot hard, barely dodging his grasp. The thrill of the hunt, the chase, the inevitable capture makes me soak through my panties.
I duck behind the shrine, my chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. I peek around the edge, searching. Waiting.
Silence.
Then…a whisper of movement.
He's close.
So close.
I press a hand to my stomach, feeling the heat coiling low. I'm so turned on.
And when I move to bolt again, a hand clamps around my wrist.
I barely have time to gasp before I'm spun and shoved against the shrine. My wrists are pinned above my head, Damien's body pressing flush against mine.
I don't struggle. Instead, I tilt my head, offering my throat.
A growl rips from his chest. "You think I wouldn't find you, little flower?"
"I think you let me run longer than usual."
"I was deciding what to do with you."
"And?"
He lowers his head, teeth scraping over my jaw. "I'm going to ruin you."
And as he lifts me into his arms, carrying me through the remains of our destruction, I know I will let him.
Again.
And again.
And again.
His hands are everywhere. They feel like fire. He squeezes my ass, my breasts, my thighs. And just like every time he touches me, I feel complete.
He slams me into the cold earth, the ashes of the village sticking to my skin. His weight flattens me into the ground.
His mouth crashes onto mine. The kiss is brutal, claiming, full of the ferocity of everything he's done to this place, to these people, to me. He tastes like smoke, like blood. Like hell. Like heaven.
"I'm going to remake you. And when I'm done, you won't know where the darkness ends and you begin," he hisses, licking from my ear to my collarbone.
I bite back a moan. It's a pleasure I no longer shy from. Everything I do with Damien is right. Even in its filthiness, it's perfect.
"You were never meant for them. And you'll never be theirs again," he vows, ripping my dress down the middle. I'm left in just my wet panties. "I own you."
My body arches into his, eager. Hungry for this twisted brand of salvation.
"I've always been yours."
"You're so perfect, little flower," he whispers around a mouthful of my nipple. He tugs at it, then soothes with soft licks. I melt.
"Do you like being touched on top of what I burned for you?" he hums, mouth still wrapped around one nipple while he pinches the other.
I shudder, my body answering him before I do. Still, I nod.
He presses open-mouthed kisses on my stomach. It shines with his spit. He licks at me like an ice cream cone, and the nerves there spark straight to my clit. The pleasure is blinding.
"I will tear down empires, end legacies, burn religions for you. Say it."
"You're the only one I worship," I manage to moan.
He drags me up by my hair, forcing me onto my knees. He tugs me closer, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his cock free.
My lips part. He watches me with dark, endless hunger.
"Open wider, little sinner."
I kiss along his length, eyes wide. He pushes the tip into my mouth. I suck, swirling my tongue.
"Look at you," he murmurs. "Worshipping me like I'm the only god in your world."
I hum around him, watching his jaw clench, fingers twitching in my hair. Power rushes through me. Once, I would've been shy. Now, I love this. Love how he unravels for me. How I can make this terrifying man weak with just my lips, my hands, my body.
"Everything I destroy, I destroy for you," he rasps. "Every sin I commit, I commit for you."
He yanks me back just enough to see my face, thumb dragging over my swollen lips.
"My good girl takes me so well."
I wrap my fingers around him, stroking slow, teasing. "I can take more."
He grins before thrusting deeper. I gag, breathing through my nose to ease the pressure. My eyes water, but he holds my head still. I love it. His other hand comes up, caressing my hair as I choke on him.
"I'm the only one you'll ever bow for. The only one you'll ever need."
And he's right.
He's absolutely right.
Using my hair, he drags me away from my favorite treat. Flipping me onto my stomach, my cheek presses into the ground. My fingers claw at the dirt, digging into the remnants of what used to be. Ash clings to my skin, to him, to us. His hands drag over my back, down to my hips, and he rips my panties off. Absolutely feral.
“Feel it, Amelia. The remnants of what I burned for you. Let them look up at us. Let them witness what our religion truly is.”
I can never say no to this man. My fingers curl into the soot. It gets under my fingernails, so deep I don’t think I’ll ever feel clean again. He watches me with dark fascination, his pupils swallowing the silver of his irises. Without warning, he thrusts inside me.
My eyes roll back from the mix of pain and pleasure, but mostly pleasure.
He pounds into me, hard and unforgiving, and I make sounds that would make the devil himself blush. Each thrust is brutal, relentless, exactly how I crave it.
“You know what you’re kneeling on?” he murmurs, voice thick with possession. “Ash and dust. All that’s left of the ones who hurt you. Who thought they could touch you. Look where they are now. And look where you are. Look where I’ve put you.”
We go at it like animals. That’s what Damien turns me into; an animal who can’t think of anything but the pleasure he gives. I’m incoherent, unable to form words, so I let him speak.
“They burned for you,” he growls. “And now, you burn for me.”
We are messed up. No sane person processes trauma like we do. But this is just us. Unapologetically us. With one final thrust, he releases inside me. I follow, unraveling around him.
We collapse into each other. He pulls off his shirt and dresses me in it. We sprawl across the ground, spent and heaving.
Just as my body trembles from the aftershocks, he takes my soot-covered hand and slides something cold onto my finger. A ring. A dark metal band, a single black diamond in the center.
I stare at it, heart hammering in my chest. “You didn’t even ask me to marry you.”
Damien smirks. “I own you, Amelia. I don’t need to ask.”
It should be outrageous. But nothing has ever felt more right.
Still, I lift my chin, refusing to back down. “Then let me own you, too.”
Something flickers in his eyes, raw, unguarded. Something only I get to see. He presses his forehead to mine and whispers, “You already do.”
His fingers trace my jaw, keeping my gaze locked as he speaks his vows, not soft, not sweet. Dark and unbreakable.
“You are mine. In this life, in the next. In whatever hell or heaven we end up in. I vow to keep you, to claim you, to destroy anything that dares stand in our way. I will worship you with fire and ruin, Amelia. I will never let you go.”
My body, my soul, every part of me is his. And I don’t want it any other way.
I clutch the ring and give him my vows in return.
“I vow to never fear the dark again, because you are in it with me. I vow to love you not the way the world tells me to, but the way we were meant to. I vow to never let you kneel alone. I am yours, Damien. Yours in every way that matters.”
We kiss like it’s our last breath, hungry, wild, desperate to fuse into one. When we finally pull apart, tangled together on ruined earth, I let out a breathless laugh.
“Margaret and Ruby are going to be very excited.”
Damien hums, kissing my ring finger, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my thighs. I smile into his chest.
Nothing in my life has ever been certain. But now?
It’s him. He’s my only constant.
The past is gone, burned to nothing but ash beneath our bodies. And from those ashes, something new has risen. Twisted. Unholy. Perfect.
Because love isn’t just about light.
Sometimes, the most sacred love is born in the dark.
The Hellkeeper was never a myth.
The Hellkeeper is a man.
And I am his eternal sinner.