Chapter 46
No one spoke when Runeak’s spine straightened, her onyx gaze fixed upon the figurine. “I accept your title.”
Her lower voice seeped into the bones of everything it touched. She raised her focus to Saer’s face. “But we will not accompany you in your treason.”
Treason. The word stabbed him at his core. “Runeakael—”
The demoness cocked her head to the side, an uncanny movement that reminded him of the fallen angel who’d created them all. The resemblance stuck Saer’s words in his throat, and she went on, “We have heard your proposal, and we refuse. There will be no reconsideration.”
A familiar, enraged tightness built. “You don’t speak for all of them.”
Runeak’s nostrils flared. “You named me their queen.” She spoke the fact with such cold passivity that a visible shiver ran down Kalia’s back.
“Did you not pay attention to anything else we just talked about?” Saer’s voice rose despite a quiet, inner whisper begging him to stay calm.
She advanced upon him. “You are responsible for Neyu’s demise. There is no consideration to be made.” The knife in Saer’s core twisted. “You, and that one.” Runeak’s head snapped over to glare at Errshek.
Errshek quailed and inched back on the bench. He ran into Kalia’s frozen-in-place form, her brown eyes wide.
Had Runeak threatened Errshek when he came to her for help? He hadn’t considered it before, but the realization brought a wave of unexpected protectiveness, hitting him square in the chest.
“Runeak, please—” Errshek whimpered.
The Twins tensed, and Saer extended a hand to ward them off while keeping his eyes fixed on Wrath. “Leave him be, Runeakael.”
Lip curling, Runeak snapped her attention back to Saer. “He is not the one who consumed her. We took a vow of loyalty. You disgraced all of us.”
A mocking laugh left Saer before he could stop it, caution thrown to the wind. “What is blind loyalty if not proof of idiocy? What has that creature done for you? For any of you?”
“You are not worthy of the devotion he shows you!” For the first time, Runeak’s voice rose to match Saer’s, the embodiment of a battle cry.
“Devotion?” Saer screamed with incredulity, and it echoed through the encampment. “If this is devotion, what does it mean to endure that monster’s disdain?” A keening rang between Saer’s ears, his vision tunneling. “Who does It command I unmake next!?”
Pain erupted across his jaw as Runeak’s fist slammed into it, sending him reeling. He just kept his feet under his frame.
Runeak’s teeth bared, body tensed to strike again. “You chose to unmake her. It’s your fault Neyu is dead!”
The fallacy jolted through Saer. “It was our maker’s fault, our maker’s decree, or It would have killed you all!”
The words might as well have stopped the world, and Saer realized too late he’d said precisely what would turn them—all of them—further away. From him. From the truth.
The first quiet mewl came from Kalia. Wincing, Saer craned his neck to absorb her piteous gaze. Pity for him.
His gaze shifted to the Twins. Arek’s arms were crossed and closed off, a tight set to his lips. The ever laughing Alus’s shoulders slumped with fatigue.
Shoving the revelation down their throats did precisely as he’d feared. All faith in him was lost. They stood under Lucifer’s sway, stronger than ever.
Errshek rose, clearing his throat, and a dismal spark of hope dared to ignite in Saer’s heart. Errshek knew. Errshek was there. Errshek would confirm what he’d said—
“I, uh. I have to go.” The younger demon’s voice wavered.
No.
Stomach plummeting, Saer took a half-step his way. “Errsheken—”
Kalia’s quiet voice broke in. “Can I come with you?”
“Kaliaspher,” Saer whispered, his lungs spasming.
But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—stop them.
Errshek nodded too quickly and motioned her over. Kalia all but stumbled off her seat and went to him. Hands clasping, the two disappeared in a conglomeration of flames, back to the Hells.
Saer could only watch, the heaviness of their absence a brick in his guts.
“Your chosen path will be your undoing. You will leave the rest of us out of it.” Runeak’s stony voice left its charred mark on Saer’s heart before she vanished in a roaring blaze.
A metal tang of blood lit on his tongue. He tried to swallow past it, the movement renewing the ache in his jaw where Runeak had struck.
“Chief…” The familiar nickname from Alus echoed somewhere to his right. Outside himself, Saer turned towards it.
After a hesitation, Alus approached and pulled Saer’s stiff body into an embrace while Arek watched with disapproving eyes.
“I’ll think on your words,” Alus whispered in his ear, though doubt soaked the statement, leaving hope in the dirt at Saer’s feet.
He didn’t return the hold, and Alus patted his shoulder before stepping back and taking his mirror’s hand.
Just before they summoned their own Hellsfire, Saer lifted his scratchy voice to the most skeptical twin, “I aim to protect this family, Areknar. I promise you.”
Arek’s jaw worked, but he nodded. “I know every lie versus truth you’ve ever told.”
Did that mean Arek believed him? Saer’s lips parted.
“But truth,” Arek went on, deadpan, “is subjective to the one telling it.”
Saer licked his lips, words lead on his tongue.
A bright conflagration swallowed Greed and Gluttony, the blast of heat gone as quickly as it appeared.
And the First stood alone.
Until he didn’t.
It flushed through him.
Warmth and light on his skin. Familiar.
A bittersweet taste pervaded the back of his throat. Not his, but his anew.
The flavor rolled from heart-wrenching to savory on the tip of his tongue. An aroma tickled his nostrils; a particular, unnamable, delectable something.
Saer inhaled reflexively—the scent mutated to burning.
Hollowness drained his stomach.
A weight pressed on his shoulders. Crushing.
It all happened in a blink, not enough time to register. Then, he disappeared inside his body.
Aching.
Spasm.
Agony.
No.
Why?
No!
Saer tried to blink, but his eyes blurred. Tried to scream, but instead his mouth pulled into a teeth-baring grimace.
The voice of Lucifer echoed in his skull. My Saerkhanum, my masterpiece.
He wanted to fall to his knees at the horrifying glory in it, but his mind didn’t control his body.
How did It know?
A growl answered, quiet and lethal in his mind. You overestimate your cleverness and underestimate my reach, insolent child.
Child.
Child. Child. CHILD.
The word carried the weight of Lucifer’s disapproval and condescension, suffocating.
Saer couldn’t move. His muscles refused to answer his call. Every command he sent through them brought agony, yet he couldn’t scream.
The Twins. The thought flitted through Saer before he cut his own mind off.
They return to me. They love me. They obey, Saerkhanum. They all do.
Kalia and Errshek had gone back first. Then Runeak. Last, Arek and Alus. He’d told them to avoid punishment. To send Lucifer his way.
Lucifer answered that call, dripping with fury that ripped through his brain like a hurricane of shrapnel.
They all obey except you.
He was alone.
I knew when my Areknar and Alustar returned.
That he was alone.
You stand apart from your kin. There is more of me in you than any of them, my Saerkhanum. I gifted you time.
The way Lucifer hissed the last word painted the insides of Saer’s skull with the acidity of Its distaste. His maker had expected him to come to It—and Saer forced It to wait. The fallen angel’s umbrage seeped through him like a caustic poison.
I have been merciful while you throw your temper tantrum.
The words churned in Saer’s stomach, sickening, but Lucifer’s control wouldn’t allow his body to vomit.
His kin. Were they okay? Had he been right?
What did you do to them? he thought.
A hesitation answered his query, a flush of startled ponderance which loosed some of the tension in Pride’s body. When the fallen angel’s voice floated in his mind, it hissed, multiple overlapping thoughts at the same time:
I reward those who heed me.
What are you suggesting, insipid offspring?
I do not hurt them, you hurt me!
Saer wanted to tremble with relief at the insulted tone laced through Lucifer’s words. They were safe, his kin. His creator hadn’t unmade or harmed them, too focused on Its First, exactly as he’d predicted.
But for how long?
He needed to keep Lucifer’s focus away from them.
Summoning every ounce of defiance, calling upon Neyu’s willfulness and his own stubborn determination, he screamed inwardly, You hurt yourself!
Another deadly pause.
Dizzy, Saer wished he could fall over, but his maker forced him—forced him—into a shuddering kneel.
I’ve waited for you. Come home to me, Lucifer whispered, a warm caress inside his cranium—the undercurrent of rage behind the words, unmistakable.
No.
A spark. The faintest burning threat ignited in Saer’s abdomen. Unimaginable pain bloomed from an ember within. His flesh steamed, just as Neyu’s had before she’d been engulfed in flames.
Unmaking.
He was being unmade.
No, no, no, no, no.
Your strength, so like mine, Lucifer purred.
The tendons and ligaments of his neck ripped from the strain the fallen angel thrust upon him, blistering rivulets of anguish under his flesh.
Get out.
Saer felt himself laugh, though not of his volition. While the sound resonated through the clearing, the fallen angel persisted in his mind, My stubborn, beautiful First. Say you’re mine. Say you’ll obey my commands, and this will end.
His back bowed, neck craned, everything arched at an unnatural angle. The muscles and sinew threatened to snap, and Saer still couldn’t scream. Burning. Burning, burning, burning, he was burning!
Colors flashed in front of his eyes. Black, red, black, red, white, black. A grating bark ripped out of his throat, not of Saer’s making.
He was Lucifer’s puppet, Its control complete.
Get out!
His body hammered into the ground and would have knocked the wind out of his lungs if he possessed control over them. He choked instead, his chest threatening to burst apart. Smoke erupted from his throat, out his mouth.
My love is endless. Is it not enough for you? Its voice remained icy and calm even as Saer’s anatomy twisted against the earth.
This isn’t love!
Against logic, Saer’s body lifted and slammed back into the ground, bones crunching, teeth rattling.
His vision darkened further, a flood of ink covering his eyes.
You are nothing without me, Saerkhanum. I molded you, I gave you life, I gave you everything, you are mine!
Lucifer’s bewitching declarations strained as Saer struggled to retake control, fought with everything he was.
The torture was a scrap compared to the fallen angel’s proclamations searing into Pride’s brain. While his frame contorted and warped, he reached for the things he knew to be true.
Saer pulled on his last view of the Twins, the warm feel of Alus’s embrace under Arek’s heedful stare.
You mean everything to me. Anguish throbbed through Lucifer’s words.
Runeak’s humorless mien and fierce passion for loyalty. She bowed before no one—except the fallen angel in his head.
You are the reason I live, I thrive, I flourish, my First. Impressions of caring, coaxing, and seduction bled into Lucifer’s words, all while his insides scorched and sizzled.
Errshek and Kalia’s uncertainty and wariness, a need for one another’s company.
You cannot walk away from me. Inclinations of dread, blossoming and spreading.
Neyu. His beautiful, defiant, beloved Neyu.
You will not walk away from me. I own you! Desperate lies. For that’s what they were, what they’d always been.
Outside, only pain existed. Saer turned inward—and hunted. Frantically, he scoured within his own mind. For the fallen angel. For a shred of hope. For a way to save himself.
Not yours.
Even his mind-voice sounded weaker. Pride dove deeper, scouring for whatever brought the fallen angel to him, the connection, the lead. Blind metaphysical reaches while fire melted his insides.
Of course you are, Lucifer said, a parent cooing at a misbehaving child.
Not yours!
Something glowed. Tethers. In the swirling chaos of his subconscious, two shimmering, golden cords vibrated. His very essence anchored one end of them. Lucifer’s presence held the other.
The same gold had splashed behind his eyes when he made his vow, when he spoke his first words. He remembered seeing them, even if their significance eluded him in that moment.
Two tethers. Tying him to Lucifer.
Why were there two?
Somehow, without hands, he touched one, and it resonated to his core.
He grazed the other—identical—rope, and it sent a traumatic shockwave through him.
No one ever has, ever will, ever could love you as I do.
The lie of Lucifer’s words mired itself in truth, and the more volatile tether gleamed brighter. Saer steeled himself and dove for the first cord—the one eager to accept his will. Agony screamed through his physical body. The first licks of flames punctured his pores, tiny flecks of unmaking.
He seized the half of the bond he could control, and invoked his desire. Sever the tie. Snap the leash. Break the chain.
He pulled, he fought, he wrenched and screamed from his mind.
NOT...YOURS!
The cord sundered in a sparkling wash of gold light. The fissure cracked through Lucifer’s control—white hot as the fire a breath from igniting him from the inside out.
It was enough.
A frenetic scream ripped through Saer’s stomach, past his chest, out his throat—a scream he made himself, and not by Lucifer’s command.
“OUT!” His arms moved by his whim, shuddering with colossal effort as his hands clasped the sides of his head.
“GET OUT!” Saer’s palms clamped against his temples so he couldn’t tell where the torture of Lucifer’s voice ended and the sensation of him crushing his own skull began.
Saerkhanumsherrinikakore. Pride’s true name sighed in his mind, a frigid threat, but…weaker. Do not push me, do not forget. I can take you back when I see fit.
Liar.
All at once, it left. And It left.
Saer gasped and rolled over, coughing and retching on the ground. He shook from head to toe, smoke rising out of his pores, the aftermath of divine torture to the body and mind.
Heaving, he let himself collapse. “Not...yours.”