Chapter 40
40
ELENA
E lena. The voice sounded like Sammael’s, but she was sure he hadn’t spoken aloud. She could feel him inside her head—could feel him deeper, moving through her body, in places a human hand couldn’t reach. His power surged within her, bringing a momentary respite from the gnawing lure of the Void. Help me , she begged. Make it stop. Keep me here. With you.
His mind-voice came low, hesitant. I promised you I would never touch you in desire, save you asked it of me. But the Void demands a price, Elena. It is the absence of all things, the origin of the Darkness itself. Fueled by the witch’s curse, it craves to claim you as its own.
She could barely make out his words over the cacophony of the Void: the buzzing of wasps and the sound of desolate, abandoned voices. Come, Elena, they taunted. Be with us. One of us. Forever with us, here, in the Dark.
Elena couldn’t imagine a more terrible fate.
“No,” she begged aloud. “There must be something you can do.”
There is one thing . His power coursed alongside hers, finding the source of her strength low in her belly, curling around it protectively. His touch was icy, the way his hands had felt in hers that day by the ruined chapel, a balm to the fire her rage had summoned. I can claim you as my own, and then the Void will be sated, the terms of the curse satisfied. But if I take you that way, it will be forever. You will be bonded to me. You will be mine.
There was a time when the idea of belonging to a demon would have decimated her. But anything would be better than eternity in the lightless hell of the Void. And Sammael cared for her. Once, he had been an Archangel, and the Light must surely burn somewhere within him still. She could rekindle his flame, and he hers, and together they would be the Saints of a new age.
“Yes, Sammael,” she gasped, digging her feet into the ground in an effort to resist the Void’s call. “Do it. Please.”
My Vila. Sammael’s whisper resonated through muscle and sinew, settling lower still, stroking her with gentle, invisible fingers, the way she’d always imagined Niko would. She staggered, trying to keep her feet, and felt his body behind her, solid, bracing hers. I know you grieve your Shadow. But I can give you things he couldn’t dream of. Together, we can make the world burn.
Sammael’s touch pushed the Darkness back, chased the voices away. She forgot they stood at the edge of a clearing where Niko lay dying, forgot she meant not to incinerate the world but to save it, forgot everything but the incomparable relief of feeling the lure of the Void abate and those awful hooks disengage from her flesh. The ragged hole still shimmered in the air, but she felt safe in her demon’s arms. As long as he held her, the Void could not touch her.
“Yes,” she said again, her head lolling back onto Sammael’s shoulder. “Make it stop.”
Dimly, she was aware of Gadreel shouting, of the other demon’s hands on her, trying to pry her from Sammael. “Fool,” Gadreel was yelling, “don’t you see you’re feeding the Darkness, giving fuel to the Void?” But Sammael only swore, peeling Gadreel away. He held Elena tight, and she felt his invisible caress again, filling her, stroking faster still.
“Make it let me go,” she begged.
Let me please you , her demon whispered back, and it will.
Nodding, Elena closed her eyes.