Chapter Twenty #2
She let her eyes flutter shut, lost in the sensation of his fingers trailing up her thigh slow, deliberate and maddening, drawing ever closer to the place where her need pulsed, raw and relentless.
‘Please,’ she whispered, a tremor in her voice, her entire being aching with a desperate, all-consuming need to feel him within her.
‘She needs you,’ came a voice. Not his, but a new one, rich and strange.
Mal turned, startled to find the woman had returned. She crouched beside the sofa like a cat at ease, her eyes aglow with delight as she watched them. ‘Isn’t this beautiful, child?’
Mal gave a small nod, dazed.
‘You want this, don’t you?’
A soft, broken sound escaped Mal’s throat.
Thanatos’ fingers paused, frozen in stillness.
‘She needs this,’ the woman insisted, her voice darkening, her stare sharpening like flint. ‘She wants this.’
Doubt crossed Thanatos’ brow, but Mal would not let him retreat.
Her fingers curled into the back of his neck as she pulled him down to her, sealing her lips to his with a kiss that spoke of drowning, of flames, of endings.
She kissed him as if the world were collapsing around them and he alone was her salvation.
And for a moment, the illusion held. His white curls shimmered, transfiguring into golden light, his eyes ablaze with that familiar amber glow she had seen countless times before, in this very posture, kissing her like the world might stop spinning if he didn’t.
But this wasn’t Ash.
Mal tried to resist the pull, but some unseen force urged her onward, her lips still pressed hungrily to Thanatos’.
Desire, once simmering, now surged through her veins like wildfire, consuming every rational thought.
She ignored the woman by the sofa, the strange, shadowed smile stretching across her face, inhuman and grotesque, a grin no mortal soul should ever wear.
The instant Thanatos’ tongue swept into her mouth, Mal’s entire body felt as though it shattered into flame and stardust. She pushed him back with a breathless gasp, forcing him upright, and tore what remained of his black shirt from his body.
Her nails raked down his arms, and when he moaned, raw and helpless, she sank her teeth into his neck, possessed by something feral and fevered.
His hand tangled into her black hair, tugging when the bite threatened to draw blood.
‘Melinoe…’ he breathed, his voice thick with lust. His obsidian eyes, usually calm and knowing, were now dark oceans of untempered hunger. There was nothing else within them, only want. It should have terrified her.
But it didn’t.
Her fingers slid to the fastenings of his trousers, fumbling with urgency, until his hands caught hers, stopping her.
‘Don’t,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse with restraint. ‘This isn’t you. It’s this place. You have to stop.’
She heard someone hiss behind them, but her thoughts were drowning in the ache, the fire in her veins that refused to relent. ‘It hurts,’ she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. ‘Make it stop. I need it to stop.’
‘I know...’ Thanatos murmured, the words ragged, as if torn from him. ‘I know it hurts, but we can’t… not like this.’
‘Why?’ she breathed, aching for the answer to be anything but final.
‘Because I’m not the one you want.’ His voice fractured with sorrow, his eyes shadowed with a grief that ran deep.
Mal reached up, threading her fingers through his soft white curls, mesmerised by the contrast between the gentleness of his hair and the tension vibrating through his body. Still, he was hard beneath her, betraying the struggle etched across his features.
‘Look at me,’ he said.
She obeyed, her gaze lifting to meet his. The moment her purple eyes locked with his obsidian ones, something within her chest clenched painfully. These weren’t the eyes she yearned for. They were not the golden ones she had been cursed to love beyond reason, beyond sense.
The pulsing ache within her began to dull, slowly retreating as she slid off his lap.
With every inch of distance, clarity returned.
The smouldering desire, once all-consuming, began to ebb.
She turned her attention to the woman who had lured her into the trap.
The seductress’s smug smile had vanished, replaced by a mask of fury.
Without hesitation, Mal stepped forward and seized her by the throat. Her grip was merciless, and she felt the satisfying crunch of bone beneath her fingers.
‘I should kill you for what you’ve done,’ she snarled, her voice sharp as shattered glass.
‘No…’ the woman rasped, writhing in Mal’s grip.
‘You can’t kill a king of Hell,’ Thanatos whispered behind her, his voice brushing her skin like a phantom’s touch. The sound sent a shiver dancing down her spine. She imagined him again, back on the sofa, bare and waiting, her hands roaming freely over his form. The craving surged anew.
‘Focus, Melinoe,’ he breathed.
Mal clenched her jaw and squeezed until the woman’s face turned a sickly blue. Then she released her grip, letting the demoness crumple to the floor. She crouched, brushing a stray lock of black hair from her eyes, inspecting her nails with feigned indifference.
‘I’m looking for someone.’
The woman spat blood at her feet. ‘You… will pay… for this.’
Mal tilted her head. ‘Oh? Is that so?’ Her voice was velvet-wrapped steel. ‘You tried to ensnare me, but we didn’t succumb. Now, we walk free.’ She smacked the side of the demoness’s head. ‘Allegra. Is she here?’
The king of lust bared her teeth, still clutching her bruised neck, and shook her head.
‘Don’t be so melodramatic,’ Mal said, rising with deliberate grace. ‘You’re a king of Hell. Surely you can survive a little bruising.’
‘Pray you never return, god-killer,’ the woman hissed.
Mal’s wicked grin returned. ‘Oh, I will,’ she replied sweetly. ‘I’ll pray. For you. That I never find myself back here because if I do, I’ll make this pit of sin your personal nightmare.’
And with that, Mal delivered a swift, vicious kick to the demon’s temple, silencing her in one final, poetic blow.