Chapter 25
ASMODEUS
“I'll do it.”
Simone's voice cuts through the wails of the damned, barely audible above the roaring flames beneath our cages. She’s gripping the bars so hard her knuckles are white, her beautiful gray eyes fixed on a point behind me.
“You'll bind yourself to Asmodeus?” Sataniel's reply is immediate, like he never really stopped listening to us. He probably hadn't.
“For our child,” Simone clarifies, one hand moving protectively to her stomach. “Not for him.”
Her words slice through me like a blade. I deserve this pain, but knowing that does nothing to lessen the sting.
Sataniel laughs, the sound bouncing off the cavern walls. “How delightful.”
Reality bends around us. The scorching heat of the Burning Pits gives way to the oppressive atmosphere of Sataniel's throne room.
The ground beneath our feet is littered with skulls and bones. Mostly demon, though I see some of the human variety. It's been a long time since I was last here.
Simone stumbles, her balance thrown by the sudden change of location. I reach for her elbow instinctively, my fingers barely brushing her skin before she jerks away.
“Don't touch me,” she hisses. The look she gives me burns worse than hellfire.
“The ground is uneven,” I murmur, gesturing to the carpet of bones beneath our feet.
She straightens her spine even as she trembles at the sight. “I'm fine.”
Sataniel settles onto his grotesque throne, looking far too pleased with himself. “Shall we proceed?” He steeples his fingers, diamond eyes glittering with anticipation. “Kneel, both of you.”
Simone hesitates for another moment before lowering herself to the bone floor. I follow suit, positioning myself opposite her.
“Hold hands,” Sataniel commands, still sounding vaguely bored.
I extend my hands, palms up. Simone places her smaller ones on top of mine, her touch featherlight, as if contact with my skin repulses her. It's so different from how she touched me just yesterday.
Sataniel circles us, his footsteps silent on the bone floor. “Asmodeus, do you willingly relinquish a portion of your power to your Cambion, Simone?”
“I do.” The formal words taste like ash on my tongue. Hell’s version of wedding oaths.
“And do you, Simone, willingly surrender your soul to be bound to Asmodeus, knowing that in the event of your death, your soul will return here to the Burning Pits?”
Simone's eyes flutter closed briefly. When she opens them, they're filled with resignation. “I do.”
Sataniel smiles, revealing perfect teeth. “So it shall be.”
Fire erupts inside my chest, the agony of having part of my power ripped away. My back arches involuntarily as white-hot pain courses through every nerve ending.
I grit my teeth to keep from screaming. I don't want to show weakness in front of the Dark Prince. But fuck, it hurts. It feels like someone is carving out pieces of my being with a dull blade.
A grunt escapes me as my power leaves my body and enters hers unseen.
Through the haze of pain, I catch her glance at me, her cold mask slipping for just a moment. Is that concern in her eyes?
“It is done,” Sataniel announces, sounding too fucking pleased with himself. “You may rise.”
Standing takes more effort than it should. I haven’t felt pain and weakness like this in millennia. Not since I was a child.
“How do you feel?” I ask Simone, my voice rougher than usual.
She blinks, looking down at herself. “Just... I'm fine.”
“Good.”
Sataniel claps his hands together. “Well, this has been delightful, but I have other matters to attend to. You're free to leave.”
His eyes linger on Simone's belly, and I bristle at his interest in our baby but hold my tongue. Now is not the time to challenge him.
“We'll take our leave, then.” Without waiting for further conversation, I step closer to Simone. She shouldn’t feel the effects of traveling through the ether anymore—not as powerful as she is now. “I need to touch you to transport us both.”
She gives a curt nod, allowing me to place my hand on the small of her back. I focus on our manor by the Lethe, picturing the grand foyer with its spiral staircase and stained-glass windows.
A blink of an eye later, we materialize in our home. Simone steps away from my touch immediately, putting distance between us.
“Don't follow me,” she says, her voice flat. “Sleep somewhere else tonight. I need... I can't even look at you right now.”
She turns and walks toward the staircase, her footsteps echoing painfully in the silent manor. I watch her go, though I want to explain—or maybe abduct her somewhere again—but I know that pushing her now would only drive her further away.
I run a hand through my hair, looking at the empty foyer. Everything feels so wrong right now. I wish I could turn back time and take Simone away from here before Sataniel showed up to ruin everything. Then again, he'd probably find us no matter where we went.
With a sigh, I make my decision. She needs space, and I have a territory to salvage.
As far as the rest of Hell is concerned, I was away for many months.
Even before Sataniel took us, I’d already been neglectful and delegated duties to my generals.
With one more thought, I'm in my desert ziggurat—the place that houses most of my less civilized subjects.
The chaos hits me before I fully materialize.
Screams and snarls fill the air as lesser demons battle each other across the grand hall.
Blood—black, red, and the greenish-yellow of ichor—spatters the black floors and columns.
Imps dart between the legs of larger demons, stealing scraps of flesh where they can.
Hellhounds chase starving sex demons who haven't fed properly in months, desperate for the sustenance they usually gain through lust and pleasure.
No one notices my arrival at first, so consumed in their disputes.
“ENOUGH!” My voice booms through the ziggurat, the force of it cracking one of the obsidian pillars.
The fighting stops abruptly, the eyes of hundreds of uncivilized demons turning to me in surprise.
I survey the destruction, the fractured alliances, the power struggles that have erupted in my absence. This will take time to fix—time that I would rather spend mending things with Simone. But she doesn't want me near her, and I can't force my presence on her. Not right now.
So I'll fix what I can. My territory. My subjects. My reputation as an archdemon not to be trifled with.
And maybe, if I give her time, Simone might someday look at me again without hatred in those beautiful gray eyes.
Maybe.