Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Rayven
Sap from a carnivorous tree.
Flesh of thine enemy.
Pleasured breath of a woman.
Those were the three ingredients we needed to bring my disintegrated tree back from the dead.
Now, all that was left was for Belial to work a bit of necromancy.
My once pristine white dress was now ripped and smeared with demon blood; I looked like I’d just survived a vicious fight.
After closing his neck wound, Belial shifted back to his human form, his all-black ball attire, perfectly tailored for his athletic form, appearing on him in a surge of magical energy. A dark streak of red still stood out on his pale, unmarred neck.
Next, the festive holiday decorations draped his antlers in place of his usual silvery charms and chains.
I waited for his mask to materialize. Seconds passed.
“You forgot your mask.”
“No, I didn’t,” he mused, his eyes shining with that dark mirth he wore so well.
“What?” I sucked in a breath as I gaped at his scarred face. He rarely showed this form to anyone who didn’t reside in the castle, let alone his bare face. “But you never show your human face at these events.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “After a year of you telling me how much you love this face, scars and all, why not show it off more? Any one else’s opinion be damned.”
It wasn’t just the scars that he hated; it was the fact that demons thought humans were weak. Showing off their old mortal face was considered weak to some.
The last demons to voice that opinion were now dead. So, if anyone else was stupid enough to comment on his face, and how it wasn’t fitting for a demon lord, he’d cut them down—so long as I didn’t beat him to it.
My vision blurred with happy tears as I stretched onto my toes and pressed a languid kiss where his wounds ran the deepest over the arch of his nose.
“You’re handsome as Lord of Bones. Scars and all.”
A rare, soft as silk smile bent his lips, curling against my own in a kiss that had me melting in his arms. “And I love you, until the world falls down, my little thief."
“Now, are you ready to bring your tree back to life?” he asked, offering me his hand with a fiendish smirk befitting every bit the devil he was.
Of course, I was ready. I’d been ready. I was practically incandescent from the suspense.
Taking his hand, he led me to the center of the throne room.
With a snap of his fingers, a large clay pot appeared next to us on the ground. As I leaned over to peer inside, I noted a pile of ashes, and my heart lurched. It was the remains of my disintegrated Christmas tree I’d stolen from the human world.
It was really happening.
I watched as my demon king carefully added the three ingredients we’d procured to the pot in the order they were collected, placing them carefully on top of the ash pile.
“Watch closely.” His timbre came out low and simmering, commanding my attention.
I held my breath as he held out his hand, blue flames erupting from his palm.
His fingers curled around the fireball, and he cast it into the pot, muttering what I assumed was the necromancy spell in Old tongue.
I might not have understood the words, but I felt the power in them as they echoed through the throne room.
The flames rose higher, burned brighter, until they extinguished in a blink.
All that was left was a smouldering pile of charred black cinders.
Belial rose and took a step back in silence, his eyes glued to the pot while he waited for something to happen.
Then… It happened. Christmas magic—well, Christmas necromancy, technically.
The ashes in the pot began to stir, shifting and rippling before a branch with black needles emerged. It stretched and rose from the pile, joined by more branches sticking out in every direction, until a huge tree towered over us.
It was black as death, and more imposing than the original spruce had been.
My breath caught.
Holy shit. It worked. Not that I ever doubted Belial’s magic, or his seemingly endless collection of spell books, but seeing a pile of ash transform into this enormous, undead Christmas tree was more unbelievable than I’d anticipated.
Euphoria lit up my veins as I walked a wide circle around it, admiring the thing from every angle.
I inhaled deeply, expecting the distinct spruce aroma that reminded me so much of the holidays.
Nothing met my nose. I guessed it could have been worse; it could have smelled like the putrid blood oak.
“What do you think?” Belial’s voice caught my attention, and I turned to face him. He was standing off to the side, watching expectantly, waiting for my reaction.
“It’s perfect,” I breathed, completely awestruck.
He’d done it. My sinister, sexy demon lord had given me everything I wanted to make this holiday in Hell feel magical.
Sure, he'd made me work for it, even bleed for it, but without him none of it would have been possible in the first place. This would have been just another day in Hell.
And he’d done it all for me.
“Thank you,” was all I could manage as a lump formed in my throat. A torrent of emotions welled up, twisting my insides and making it hard to think.
Thankfully, Belial stepped forward and pulled me against his chest. My bloody dress had to be staining his crisp formal attire, yet he appeared completely unbothered.
“Anything for my queen,” he said, bending to press his marred lips to my forehead. “I would move mountains for you, turn the Hells inside out if you asked.”
His face hardened into an expression that had my heart clenching. “I’d even kill my own brothers for you.”
I knew in my bones everything my king was capable—and willing—to do for me, but it still robbed me of words and warmed my heart anytime he showered me with everything a dark god like him could give his queen.
A year later, it was still hard for me to wrap my head around, but his ice-cold heart had melted for me, and no one else.
“Should we decorate it now?” he asked, his stormy gray eyes locked firmly on mine.
“With the ballsacks?” I chuckled, cocking a brow at him. “There were some leftover decorations I dragged here from Earth, weren’t there? Will we use those?”
He shook his head slowly. “Only if you want to. I had the staff make some baubles I think you’ll enjoy more.”
He’d even thought of custom ornaments? Fuck, I loved this demon.
“What kind of baubles?” My heart fluttered at the thought of beautiful goth ornaments trimming my new undead tree.
“Only the best for my queen.” He snapped his fingers, and I jumped when the throne room doors clanged open.
Three servants, two skeletal souls and a green-skinned demon, swept in, carrying sleek gray boxes with pristine black bows, just like the gift Belial had given me. They approached and bowed, setting the boxes on the floor at my feet.
“Your Highness,” one of them mumbled in acknowledgement. “We hope these are to your liking.”
“I’m sure they will be,” I assured them before they retreated, and my eyes lasered on the gifts. My heart raced in my chest, and I sank to my knees, feeling like a kid again on Christmas.
My hands trembled as I tugged at the bows and slowly unveiled what waited for me inside.
The contents took my breath away.
There were bone-colored candlesticks, crystal plums, and tiny glittering gondolas like the ones the ferrymen used to travel to the lower levels of Hell.
In the second, there were several yards of glittering black twine adorned with hundreds of teeth—from incisors to molars, all with the roots still attached.
And in the last box, there was a mountain of black and silver ornaments that reminded me of the vintage ones my grandma had on her tree when I was little.
It wasn’t until I opened all the boxes that Belial made his box of ballsack ornaments reappear, adding it to the collection.
“These are beautiful!” I gushed, practically vibrating.
“Would you like my help?” my mate asked, appearing delighted himself. It seemed the holiday spirit was infecting even king scrooge himself.
“Of course.” I flashed him a bubbly grin, and handed him one of the miniature gondolas. “How else am I going to reach those high ass branches?”
We trimmed the tree in mostly silence, with me humming various Christmas carols while we worked.
We strung up the teeth and hung all the gondolas.
Each candlestick came with a silver holder that we fastened to the branches.
Once they were all hung, a simple flick of Belial’s wrist lit them all with brilliant blue flames that stretched to every corner of the throne room.
We were nearly finished, with only a few ornaments left to hang, when I froze in my steps. The secret I’d been keeping from Belial rushed to the front of my mind, and I was overcome with the urge to share it.
We were alone. No servants, and it was too early for guests to start arriving. When would I have a more perfect time?
“What is that smile for?” Belial asked, and I realized my face had given me away.
I might as well tell him now.
“You’ve given me so many gifts to make this Christmas truly special.” I placed one of the shriveled testicles of my enemy on a branch and turned to face him. “Would it surprise you if I said I had a gift for you too?”
“A gift?” From his tone, he hadn’t expected one. “You’re the only gift I need, my treasure.”
“I don’t know, I think you’ll like this one.
” I rocked back and forth, running through the words I’d been planning for weeks.
I’d practiced the conversation with myself countless times, but going through with it in person was more nerve-racking than I’d imagined.
Forget butterflies in my stomach. I had a whole hive of hornets pricking my insides. “It’s definitely something unexpected.”
“Unexpected,” he repeated, his head canting, his gorgeous hair spilling over his eyes as his bells gave a merry little jingle. “Okay, I’ll bite. What is it?”
“A new title.”