Chapter 24
RHI
“How long have you known?” Nick’s voice is unwavering. If he is at all bothered by the fact that his uncle is aware his memories have returned or that he knows who I truly am, he doesn’t let on.
Belial shrugs. “I had a hunch.”
“A fucking hunch?”
Belial’s legendary lackadaisical demeanor leaks through as he again lifts his shoulders indolently and waves a dismissive hand.
A dark tendril slips free from the binding at the nape of his neck, adding to his blithe appearance.
The family resemblance is strong, mostly in the shape of their chiseled jawlines and lips a girl would kill for.
Belial has a shadow of stubble around his jaw and framing his upper lip, his features more brutal—fitting for a Demon who has been alive since the dawn of time.
Of course, they share the same blazing golden eyes, as Nick had told me that only he and the four Princes of Hell were blessed with the gilded color, but where Nick’s skin glows bronze, Belial’s is slightly subdued, more of a tanned-hue, as though he spends his days basking beneath the suns’ rays, a very likely scenario, given his reputation.
“I’m a Prince of Hell, nephew. There is very little I don’t know.”
Nick’s expression is pensive before it turns solemn. “Are you implying my father is aware of the current state of events?”
Belial smirks at that. “If he is, he’s not bothered enough to interrupt whatever golf game presently ensnares him.” His gaze moves to me before slowly returning to Nick. “Though something tells me you have an absurd desire to draw him back.”
Nick darts a swift glance in my direction, that one look all but letting me know he is going to tell Belial his plan. “I want to leave.”
Belial tips his head back, releasing a thunderous laugh. When he stills, his eyes rest on Nick. “I guessed as much. How do you propose to do that?”
When neither one of us answers, Nick fixes Belial with a pointed look. The smug countenance falls from his face, and the Demon stares at both of us wide-eyed.
“Never going to happen.”
“Why not?” Nick argues.
“I don’t want to rule.”
“Neither do I.”
“It is your birthright. Besides, she,” he flits his finger in my direction, “can give you an heir. You have all the tools you need for a long and successful reign, Raphael. Why leave?”
“Because he doesn’t want to stay here!” I erupt, tired of being talked around.
Belial raises a thick brow, that wayward tendril dipping forward as he angles his head toward me. “You mean you don’t want to stay here.”
I straighten and square my shoulders. “Knowing who I am, what I am, it should be no secret I don’t want to stay, but as I told your nephew, I won’t lose him again. So, if it means I give up the life I had to remain here, with him, so be it.”
Respect again alights his features, though it’s miniscule compared to what I’d seen in his face as he watched Isadora leave.
“Then what is the issue?” Belial presses.
“I have a sister, Uncle. A mother. I had a life before I was trapped here and ripped of those memories,” Nick answers, his tone menacing.
“Not that I would expect you to hold the women in his life in high regard.” It slips out, and Belial whips his head in my direction, gaze fiery and lethal.
“I don’t appreciate your insinuation, Scylla. What makes you say that?”
I scoff. “This entire realm is built on the notion of women being property. Property of their fathers until marriage, then the property of their husbands. Not to mention, your Demonesses are infertile, so you justify taking mistresses in order to procreate, but where does that leave your spouses? Are they allowed to fuck other men just the same?”
Nick throws me a warning glance, and I wave him off. “I thought so.”
Belial side-eyes Nick. “Quite the spitfire, isn’t she?”
Nick holds my stare, lips twitching against a smirk. “You have no idea.”
“I’ll have you know, Scylla, it was God and Lucifer’s joint effort in creating the rules of this realm, including the terms under which our women are viewed, which, at one point, was no different from your world. My other two brothers and I had no say in the matter.”
Confused, I open my mouth to reply, but Belial presses on. “As far as infertility, that alone was the Christian God, who thought it some cosmic joke to render our women infertile when he and Lucifer settled their differences and decided for Lucifer to reign in Hell.”
I fold my arms and press my lips together. Although I didn’t grow up Christian, I know well the story of Lucifer’s fall from Heaven. Enough movies and books are written about it. Yet, this is an entirely different perspective than one I grew up learning.
“I don’t understand.” I frown.
Smiling, Belial moves towards me, only to be intercepted by Nick.
“You do not go near her,” he warns in a low growl.
Belial rolls his eyes. “I would never harm her, Raphael. Besides,” his eyes flicker up and down my body, “I’m sure she is more than capable of defending herself.”
“Be that as it may, if you get any closer to her, I’ll rip your spine right through your skin and hang you from the rafters.”
The Prince of Hell chuckles. “I merely wanted to inform her that the perception she has of Heaven and Hell is muddled.” He fixes his stare on me.
“Lucifer never intended to usurp God’s throne.
Quite the contrary—God held him in such high regard, he offered him a realm of his own to rule.
Of course, there were caveats to this exchange, one of them being Lucifer was to harbor the souls of evil-doers, as the Almighty could not be bothered to taint his realm with such sin. The other—”
“Was infertility,” I finish, but Belial shakes his head.
“Oh no. That, as I stated before, was a trick to ensure demons never grew more plentiful or powerful than the angels. The other caveat was that Lucifer was to bear the burden of his notorious reputation so mortals would have something to fear, something to steer their moral compasses north. What better way to do that than to promise them eternal damnation in a place known for devastation and torture?”
My eyes widen at this new revelation. “So, Lucifer is…good?”
Nick laughs darkly beside me, and Belial offers his own demonic smile.
“Good is a point of view. It’s relative to its owner.
What one person deems as good, another person condemns.
” His smile fades. “So to be clear, Scylla, I have tremendous respect for women, especially the Demonesses of this realm, who were punished for no other reason than to appease the childish whims of a God.”
Like our own monsters of myth.
I suddenly find a kinship with Isadora, a woman punished because of what she was born into.
Belial sighs, turning to Nick. “Have you spoken with my brother Satan? He would be best fit to rule. His wife is mortal. She is probably with child as we speak, knowing how often they fuck.”
“Satan is content where he is. He’s besotted with his mortal wife. He’d rather not subject her to the dangers of Court, given her mortality.”
Belial licks his lips, flicking his gaze between me and Nick. “How long do you have?”
Understanding his meaning, I hold up my right wrist, exposing the hourglass tattoo.
He tsks. “Not that long then.”
I lower my wrist and press into Nick’s side, needing to feel his warmth. His hand comes to my lower back, thumb lightly brushing the base of my spine in a soothing motion.
“There has to be something you want, Belial,” Nick says, almost imploringly.
Belial’s eyes flash. It’s brief, but I catch it. “Perhaps there is. Do your best to convince me, nephew, and I’ll take the Throne of Hell.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” I ask.
Shrugging, Belial turns from us to leave, pausing before he walks through the doors.
“Figure it out.”
“‘Figure it out,’” I murmur, Nick’s hand on the small of my back as he guides me toward his bedroom. I’ve been mulling over how to entice Belial to take the throne, yet it seems Nick’s mind is on something else entirely, as he practically shoves me into his room and kicks the door shut.
I barely have time to take in my surroundings before he’s on me, mouth pressed against mine and hands winding into my hair, angling my face so he can deepen the kiss.
I lightly push his chest to break us apart. “Shouldn’t we discuss how to—” he peppers a kiss on my neck, his hands gripping my waist— “convince your uncle—” another kiss at the base of my throat as he ushers me backwards— “to take the Throne?”
Nick brushes his fangs over my collarbone, tongue darting out against my skin. “It’s been too long since I’ve been inside you.”
A delicious shiver rattles my spine at his heated timbre, at the unmistakable lust that pours from his throat. Nonetheless, I glance at the nonexistent watch at my wrist. “It’s only been a few hours.”
“Too long,” he repeats, voice raw and guttural. His fingers bunch up my dress as he continues forcing me backwards. “Belial isn’t going anywhere. It’s clear he wants something. He’s just being an elusive prick.”
Nick’s hand drifts between my thighs, fingers dancing closer to my center.
My knees hit the back of the bed as I draw in a sharp breath, two of those fingers gliding over my aching core.
He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, those gilded eyes edged in gleaming obsidian.
The most illicit tremor quakes through me as I hold his ravenous gaze and let it consume me.
“I want something too.” Nick leans forward, trailing those sinful lips along my jaw until they reach my ear.
“Oh yeah?” My words release on a stuttering breath. “What is that?”
I sink my top teeth into my bottom lip to suppress the moan crawling up my throat as Nick spears me first one with finger then adds a second almost immediately.