Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Rayven
Thanks to Belial’s ruthless spanking, my ass still stung the next morning. But the pain was quickly overshadowed by excitement when I opened my eyes.
It was the day of the Christmas ball.
Christmas morning!
I looked over to find Belial’s side of the bed empty. While a bit disappointed, I wasn’t entirely surprised; he was often busy with work, and had probably woken up early to oversee the finishing touches for tonight’s festivities.
I hurried out of bed, all but bouncing across the bedroom with excitement, before something blinding white caught my eye.
Hanging from the wardrobe on the far side of the room was a gown—flowy and moon-colored, with puffed sleeves and intricate details stitched into the skirt. It looked like a snow drift had swept through the window in the middle of the night, and I knew immediately that it was meant for me to wear.
My nose scrunched. It was pretty, sure, but not my color. As a self-proclaimed goth girl, I preferred black or red. That said, the demon king liked it when I was draped all in white. He said it brought out my long jet black hair, which he was obsessed with.
Since it was Christmas, I’d indulge him without complaining… much.
As I stepped closer to inspect the gown, I saw a note pinned to the sweetheart neckline. It was written in long, elegant strokes.
Merry Christmas, my treasure.
Meet me in the throne room, and wear this.
– B
Simple and to the point, but it had my mind cartwheeling. It made sense for him to want to see me before the ball, since we still had no tree to speak of. As far as I knew, there were still two items needed for the ritual.
A knock at the door ripped me out of my daydream, and I glanced over to see Holga slipping into the room. Her long gray hair—or what remained of it—was pinned into a bun, and I frowned when I noted what she was wearing. A floor-length dress, easily the fanciest thing I’d ever seen my maid wear.
And it was red. Lucky.
The old witch’s eyeless sockets landed on me, and she curtseyed.
“Good Morning, and a most happy Yule to you, Your Highness,” she said. “I’ve come to help get you bathed and dressed for an audience with the Lord. No need to rush, however. He told us we may take our time.”
With the anticipation building in my veins, I didn’t want to take my time. Hells, I’d go down to the ballroom in my nightgown for the ritual, if it wasn’t for the fact that guests would likely arrive for the ball shortly after.
“Fine,” I groaned, though I wasn’t really annoyed. A warm bath would probably do my sore asscheeks some good.
I headed for the bathroom where a clawfoot tub awaited, my skeleton maid following on my heels.
After a bath, Holga helped me into the mountain of white fabric Belial had left for me, cinching the waist tight enough to make me gasp.
“Can we… let it out… a bit?” I choked out before she obliged.
Then she set to work braiding my hair, twisting it into a stunning updo. By the time she was finished, I hated the white dress a little less.
Though it still would look better in red.
I finished off the ensemble with a garter belt I had recently tasked the castle tailor with making, especially for the Christmas ball.
It was a surprise for my mate. As I tugged it on, a wicked thought occurred to me.
There was a strong chance that the ritual would be sexual in nature, so why not spice up the garter reveal?
My line of sight dropped to the dagger I kept on my vanity and, before the idea fully formed, I was already lifting my dress and slipping it beneath my garter.
“Okay. Ready,” I whispered to myself through a coy smile as I caught my reflection in the oval vanity mirror. Belial wasn’t the only one with secrets today.
The doors to the throne room gaped open like windows into a gothic Christmas wonderland, and I slowly drank in all the decor as I stepped inside.
Decaying tinsel hung from the bone chandeliers overhead, and enormous bouquet arrangements of dead branches, with withered blooms and berries, sat as centerpieces for the refreshment tables.
Deep burgundy and black fabric was draped elegantly along the walls and ceiling, matching the bloody River Styx that carved a path through the marble floor in front of the thrones toward the end of the hall.
Belial's menacing throne of bones stood in all its macabre grandeur above the red river, accompanied by my slightly smaller one. The major difference between the two was that mine was adorned with nine severed heads, a present from the demon king himself.
Belial, dressed in a black suit that might have been in style some two hundred years ago, was waiting for me in front of the thrones. He also wore his mask, but in addition to that, he had Christmas decorations hung from his antlers like silver bells and berries native to Limbo.
Even though we were alone, it felt like dozens of eyes were on me as I walked my way down the center of the long hall.
Tonight, the space would be filled with every kind of spirit, skeleton, and ghoul this realm had to offer.
They'd be here to witness something never before seen in Limbo.
The thought sent shivers down my spine as my excitement kicked up a notch, and I hurried toward my demon king.
“You wore the dress I chose,” he noted when I was within earshot. I could hear the surprise in his voice.
I shrugged. “Well I couldn't come naked.”
“I wouldn’t have complained if you had. Though, you know how possessive I am. If any of our guests were to look at you wrong, I’d pluck out their eyes and serve them with the hors d’oeuvres. And something tells me that doesn’t exactly match your mortal Christmas traditions.”
“Not exactly, but I’m all for making new ones too,” I grinned.
His black mask evaporated, revealing a cocky smirk. “But you really do look ravishing in white.”
“You couldn't have picked something more Christmasy? Like red?”
Mischief glinted in his eyes before he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. “It's still early, my treasure. You might still get your wish.”
Heat bloomed in my stomach and sank south, pooling between my thighs. What did that mean?
Taking a side step, he gestured to my throne. “Sit,” he instructed with a mischievous smile I didn’t trust for a moment. “I have a present for you.”
“A present?” A tiny gasp escaped me. In the chaos of planning for our Christmas in the Hells, I’d completely forgotten about presents. Or maybe I thought that making it snow, decorating the castle, and the dress for the ball was my present. “Is that why you were gone this morning?”
“Perhaps.” Another devilish grin. “It’s a gift for my queen and also the second thing we need for the necromancy spell.”
So, less of a present, but still a gift.
My stomach fluttered and I moved to step around him, eyes focused on my throne. I approached the edge of the River Styx slowly, my gaze dropping to the lazily flowing crimson currents littered with severed body parts of souls headed for the lower levels of the Underworld.
I crossed the small foot bridge he’d fashioned just for me, to keep me dry from the Styx, as well as any groping lost souls that might try to pull me in.
The moment I took my seat, Belial waved his hand and a package appeared in his outstretched hand, which he offered to me with a gentlemanly bow. It was roughly the size of a shoe box, pristinely wrapped in dust-colored paper and tied with a festive black bow.
Had he gotten me some gothic vertebrae heels? Cozy house shoes?
“Did you wrap this?” I asked, impressed, as I took the box from him.
A dark chuckle escaped him. “Cecil did, but you can pretend it was me if you like.”
With a curious smirk, I tugged at the ribbon and pulled away the paper, tossing it aside to reveal a simple box. It looked even more like a shoe box unwrapped.
Maybe he got me a new pair of combat boots.
Heart pounding and fingers tingling, I slowly pulled off the lid as I held my breath, and carefully examined the contents. My face scrunched as I found myself staring at a collection of something shriveled and flesh-colored. They definitely weren’t shoes.
There were seven of them, and the longer I looked, the more sure I was that I’d been gifted a shoebox full of something that would have me calling the police, if this were something I received back in my native world.
What the fuck?
My eyes flashed to Belial, who seemed to be waiting anxiously for my approval, then dropped back to the box in my lap.
I stared, trying to make sense of what he'd given me, and out of morbid curiosity, poked at one of the lumps in the box.
It was soft and leathery, but solid in the middle. Almost like a…
“Belial, are these ballsacks?”
My eyes snapped back to his storm gray ones, and the grin I found on his lips was fucking diabolical.
“Flesh of thine enemy, the second item required for the spell. I also thought they might look festive on your undead Yule tree. After the holiday, you may hang them anywhere you please.”
Judging by the number seven, they coincided with the heads adorning my throne. These weren’t just any testicles, these were the balls of my enemies.
My devilish, romantic demon king gifted me ballsacks for Christmas.
I balked, not quite sure what to say. “You know on Earth, we typically get boxes of chocolates or socks for holidays… not scrotums.”
“Good. Another new holiday tradition for us.”
As disgusting as the gift in my hand was, I couldn’t fight the smile working its way across my face. It wasn’t a trite offering like flowers. It was a symbol of my mate’s unwavering devotion to me. His willingness and enthusiasm to cut down anyone who attempted to come between us.
Any enemy of mine marked themselves with a target on their back—or in this case, their scrotums. I held the proof in my hands.
“You said this is the second thing needed for the spell.” My attention bounced back up to Belial. “What’s the last thing we need?”
He took the box from me and set it on the floor beside my throne as he knelt before me. A sinister gleam lit up his eyes.
“I’m about to take it from you.”