Chapter Twenty
It is said that each king of Hell was cast from divine service and condemned to eternal imprisonment for a single, damning sin. The ring they now inhabit is a reflection of that sin, a realm sculpted from their transgression, a mirror of their downfall.
Beelzebub was banished for gluttony, and now he is cursed to dwell forever in a domain overflowing with excess, tormenting souls who share his insatiable hunger. Asmodeus, undone by lust, now spends eternity ensnaring others in the same fire that once consumed him.
I can scarcely imagine a crueller fate, to be trapped within your own failing, forced to live it over and over, until it seeps into your skin, into your soul, until it becomes all that you are.
Tabitha Wysteria
‘Was that truly necessary?’ Thanatos asked, his typically impassive expression darkened now with unease as he surveyed the scene before him.
Mal had attempted to question the King of Hell, but the gluttonous creature had merely laughed in her face until she had seized a fistful of food and rammed it down his gaping maw, choking him mid-guffaw.
‘He refused to speak,’ she replied, even as the floor beneath them began to tremble with foreboding.
Thanatos arched a brow, his lips twitching into a smirk. ‘You may wish to step away from the king now.’
Mal had been holding him pinned to his throne, her fingers white with the force of her grip. But at Thanatos’ warning, she released him. The king slumped forward, wheezing, his bloated form heaving as he clawed at his throat.
‘I don’t think the witch is here,’ Makaria observed, her voice tinged with curiosity rather than concern as she edged closer, her attention fixed on the grotesque sight of the Hell-king writhing.
‘Makaria, stay with me,’ Mal said sharply, retreating and grabbing the girl’s hand as the tremors intensified. She ushered her sister closer to Thanatos, her eyes drifting upwards, half-expecting the ceiling to collapse. ‘What’s happening?’
Thanatos exhaled slowly, his voice low and dry. ‘You appear to have offended a king of Hell.’
Mal rolled her eyes. ‘Well, he didn’t exactly strike me as a man of wit.’ She cast about the long elongated dining room, her attention landing on a set of heavy black doors. ‘That way?’
Thanatos’ gaze lingered briefly on the choking monarch before nodding once. Without wasting another breath, he shoved the doors wide and herded them through, just as the chamber groaned with the wrath of the underworld.
Mal was abruptly swallowed by shadow, her footing lost to the void beneath her.
She stumbled forward blindly, only to have her chin collide with something soft and undeniably yielding.
As the darkness lifted and her sight adjusted, surprise bloomed across her face as she realised what she had landed upon.
A breast.
Cursing under her breath, Mal quickly pulled back, annoyed by the situation. Behind her, Thanatos let out a low chuckle. She retaliated with a sharp elbow to his ribs, earning a grunt but no apology.
The room that emerged before them was a world apart from the gloom they had just fled.
Bathed in hues of crimson and emerald, it pulsed with decadent life.
Deep leather settees, draped in lounging souls, lined the chamber, some draped across one another in idle caress, others entwined in acts far more explicit.
At the heart of the room, a table stood surrounded by spirits locked in a game of cards, laughter and smoke curling from their lips.
Above them, low-hanging chandeliers glowed with a golden warmth, illuminating the haze that curled lazily through the air.
To the right, a marble pool steamed with sultry heat, its waters filled with writhing bodies lost in pleasure, the sounds of their release echoing softly through the room like a symphony of sin.
The men in the room wore only low-slung leather trousers, their oiled torsos gleaming under the soft, golden lights. The women moved like silken shadows, some entirely bare, others draped in translucent gowns that clung like whispers to their skin.
‘What is this place?’ Mal asked, her voice hushed.
‘Asmodeus,’ Thanatos replied grimly. ‘This ring is lust.’ He turned towards her, his hands tightening on her arms, his black eyes sharp. ‘Whatever you feel, whatever calls to you, do not yield, Melinoe. You must not surrender to it.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Before he could answer, a woman approached, so breathtakingly exquisite that it was almost painful to look upon her.
Her midnight-black hair was woven with delicate blossoms, pinned high with precision, though loose tendrils fell artfully over her bare shoulders.
Her lips were painted the colour of crushed roses, and her eyes glowed with the blood-red fire of temptation.
Mal instinctively stepped back when she noticed the woman bore not two, but six arms, three on each side, fanning out from her back like a macabre angel.
‘Does it frighten you?’ the woman asked, her voice like honey dripping into wine. ‘Six arms… to please six souls, all at once.’
Mal turned sharply, only to realise Makaria was gone. So too was Thanatos. Panic fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird as she found herself alone with the alluring creature.
‘Come,’ the woman coaxed, guiding Mal towards a lush, crimson leather settee. Despite her instincts, Mal obeyed, her limbs not entirely her own.
‘You miss him, don’t you?’ the woman asked against her ear, her breath warm, wicked.
‘Who?’
‘Your husband.’ A slow smile crept across the woman’s perfect face, one that revealed teeth like pearl-tipped blades. ‘But you can have him, if you wish. There is another here… so like him.’
She gestured towards the far side of the chamber, where a familiar figure paced the perimeter. The moment Mal’s gaze met Thanatos’, a heat flooded through her, hot and molten, a craving so fierce it stole the breath from her lungs.
‘Why… why do I feel this way?’ she whispered, her voice unsteady.
The woman shrugged, her many arms flexing. ‘Is pleasure something to be feared?’
‘No, but… not him,’ Mal muttered, already trying to resist the pull.
‘Don’t fight it,’ the woman crooned before vanishing into the haze, replaced by Thanatos himself.
‘What did she say to you?’ he asked at once, concern etched into every line of his face as he sat beside her. ‘You mustn’t listen to Asmodeus.’
‘That was Asmodeus?’
‘Yes. He wears many faces. Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, sometimes both.’
Mal’s teeth sank into her lower lip, her thoughts wandering dangerously towards Thanatos’ mouth. Without hesitation, she straddled his lap, delighting in the flash of astonishment that crossed his features like a storm breaking.
‘What are you doing, Melinoe?’ he asked, his voice a low rasp, more breath than sound.
She offered him a mischievous smile, tracing a single, languid finger down the line of his jaw. ‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘Don’t feign innocence,’ he said, though his tone lacked conviction. Those fathomless black eyes glittered with something close to panic, yet beneath it, a hunger brewed, one that made Mal press herself more fully against him.
‘You think I don’t want this?’ she whispered, her lips brushing against the cold skin of his neck. She smiled when he gasped, when her tongue tasted him. ‘If you truly didn’t want this, you’d have pushed me away by now.’
‘Please… don’t,’ he croaked, voice strained, his breath hitching. ‘I’m not strong enough to deny you.’
‘Then don’t,’ she breathed, her voice velvet and heat.
His hands, trembling faintly, slid to the hem of her dress. He lifted the fabric with aching slowness, fingertips grazing her skin, leaving fire and goosebumps in their wake.
‘You’ll regret this,’ he whispered, though the words fell hollow.
Mal laughed softly as her fingers toyed with the buttons of his black shirt, undoing them one by one until the fabric hung open, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest. She leaned in, brushing her lips against his skin.
‘Are you nervous?’ she asked, her breath warm against him.
‘If I had a heartbeat,’ he said, voice rough, low, ‘it would be pounding like mad right now, Melinoe.’
Her brow furrowed slightly as she pressed her palm to his chest. ‘You don’t have a heartbeat?’
‘I am Death itself, Melinoe,’ he replied, his tone teasing, almost reverent.
‘You enjoy saying my name, don’t you?’
‘I enjoy you,’ he said simply, his hands tightening around her waist, drawing her nearer. ‘And right now, I’d enjoy doing all sorts of unspeakable things to you.’
‘Such as?’ she asked, arching an eyebrow, well aware of how hard he was beneath her.
His lips brushed the shell of her ear. ‘Such as letting you fuck me in front of every soul in this room,’ he whispered, his voice a decadent promise. One hand rose, trailing a slow, deliberate path from the hollow of her throat, between her breasts, and down, halting just at the edge of her dress.
‘Won’t you?’ she asked, her smile wicked and taunting. ‘Or are you feeling shy?’
Without warning, the world seemed to tilt. Mal found herself on her back, the supple leather of the sofa cool against her spine. Thanatos loomed above her, a shadow spun from silk and fire, his arms caging her in, his presence overwhelming and inescapable.
His breath kissed her skin as he leaned in, his voice dark velvet. ‘Shall I see if you’re already wet for me, Melinoe?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, every syllable drenched in hunger. ‘Fuck me, now.’
His lips brushed hers with such aching softness it unraveled something deep within her, igniting a flame that raced through her veins.
Her back arched in response, her body answering to his with a yearning too fierce to hide.
Even the lightest contact of his mouth sent shivers coursing through her, a promise of the ecstasy to come.