24
“What?” The question comes out of her mouth as if she’s been electrocuted. I look at her, coming to the conclusion that she didn’t open the envelope I gave her days ago inside the Holy Bible.
I should have guessed it, since she never mentioned anything about it.
“H-How? When?” she whispers, returning to reality.
“A long time ago, when we were dating.” She tilts her head, seeming to be searching for something in her memory.
“I was underage.” I nod slowly.
Neither the fact that she was 17 at the time nor her parents' consent were a problem for me when it came to getting what would keep her by my side until the end of my days, whether it was by forging signatures or bribing people. It was the only way I could find to keep her by my side because of Ray’s stubbornness in refusing to accept Kristoff’s offer to unite our families.
He thought it was my father’s idea to gain more power through the union, not really knowing everything that was behind it.
He has always been a rat thirsty for power.
My father didn’t care about his refusal and let it go, but I never did.
“Did my parents agree?”
“No.” Her eyes widen before frowning in confusion.
“No? They don’t know?” Her question sounds more like a confirmation that I don’t deny by shaking my head, feeling my stomach turn in knots.
“Was it legal? I don’t have your last names, do I?” No for now. I want to tell her, but the confusion in her eyes stops me. She probably has trouble remembering and finding answers that I can’t give her yet.
“No, but you can have them. It’s just a matter of going through the registry.” She shakes her head quickly, looking down with a smile on her lips.
“I want proof.”
I watch every tiny movement of her face with my heart in my throat, fearing she will run away as she reads the papers in amazement. Needless to say, the marriage certificate is original, even signed and stamped by the Toronto government. After a while, she swallows and looks up.
“What if I want a divorce?” She asks, looking back at me. I look at her, resisting the urge to shake her brain for thinking such a thing.
“That’d be fucked then, because I wouldn’t give it to you even after death,” I say harshly, wanting to make it clear that there’s no human or unearthly power in the universe that could break our vows.
We both lay down on the bed with the dim light from the lamp highlighting the curious gleam in her eyes as I stroke her hair in an attempt to help her find some comfort in the confusing sea of doubts she is navigating in now.
“I didn’t know you were religious,” she blurts out of nowhere, making me laugh.
“I can be, especially when it comes to you. But you are the only goddess I'd get on my knees for.” She lifts her head and looks at me with red cheeks.
“Tell me how it was. Our wedding.” I hold her tighter in my arms and rest my chin on her head, letting the memories of that night wash over me.
It had all happened 3 years ago, in the woods behind the house in Toronto.
The place was decorated with scented candles and various flowers.
The few seats there were covered in pure gold, and behind the priest, the seal of Baphomet burned, warming the place with its flames.
Her black dress matched the black dead roses.
The golden stems glowed under the crescent moon (it had to be that way to complete the ritual).
She walked down the small path of dried petals, holding the bouquet while her arm was intertwined with Denis’s.
She was nervous; everyone could tell by the trembling of her hands.
When she stood before the altar, I kissed the back of her hand, sharing a knowing glance before turning to the man who was looking at us impatiently.
“Let’s begin,” he said, clapping his hands in the air. Then he rang a bell. The place filled with the echo of the bell as he drew a pentagram in the air with the athame before raising his hands and reciting the following with his eyes fixed on the Holy Bible:
“In the Name of Satan, Lord of the Earth, true God, exalted and ineffable, who created man to reflect your image and likeness, we invite the forces of hell to pour their power upon us. Come greet us and bestow your dark blessings upon this couple who wish to become one in the eyes of Lucifer.”
He stopped to drink the blood mixed with ours that was in the chalice, and drew an inverted cross on our foreheads with some bone ashes, then he invoked the four crowns of hell with Lena watching everything with a slight smile:
“Satan/Lucifer of the East
Beelzebub of the North
Astaroth of the West
Azazel of the South”
“We have gathered in the name of our Father and Lord to unite Lena Easton and Alekei Novikov in marriage.”
He picked up the athame again and drew a circle on the floor, leaving us in the middle of it. Lena flinched when she felt a sudden breeze pass by our feet, and I squeezed her hand in mine, giving her a smile.
“Almighty Satan, bestow your blessing upon your disciples. They have both come here of their own free will. They come to ask for your blessing, for from this day forward they will be husband and wife. We ask that you bless this union with lust and the pleasures of life, that their mutual affection and desire for each other remain strong and lasting forever.” He paused to look at Lena, who was jumping up and down, looking as if she would soon explode with excitement.
“Lena Easton, do you of your own free will take Alekei by the laws of Satan, take him as your husband, love him, honor him, and respect him, be one with him in the eyes of Satan and the powers of hell—?”
“I do,” she blurted out before the man had even finished speaking. That made me smile. My nerves had made my smile tense. His gaze now turned to me.
“Alekei Novikov, do you willingly take Lena by the laws of Satan, to be your wife, to love her, honor her, and respect her, to be one in the eyes of Satan and the powers of hell?”
“Yes,” I replied, my stomach doing a thousand somersaults and my eyes welling up with tears.
At that moment, Denis approached with a silver tray holding two rings that had taken my personal jeweler several months to make.
She received one surrounded by diamonds with a ruby skull in the middle that also had a diamond on its forehead.
My ring was similar to hers, except instead of a skull, it had the cross of Leviathan.
“In the name of Satan and before all the demons of hell, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May this union be powerful, strong, and abundant in pleasure. Long live Satan!” cried the priest at the top of his voice.
“Long live Satan!” shouted some behind us.
My father was away on a trip again, so he never knew a damn thing, and my brother was locked in his room as usual. The only people I allowed to attend were a few bodyguards at the time, as well as Polina, Denis, and Anna. She died a couple of years later.
Then the priest began to recite prayers in Latin. With each word, Lena’s brow furrowed more and more, not understanding what they meant. No matter how much I had tried to teach her what I knew, she still hadn’t quite mastered the language. Not back then at least.
“Move forward as one, seek and find strength in Satan now that you walk the path of the left hand. May Satan grant you many blessings along this path you have chosen. Hail Satan!” he finally said, raising his hands to the sky, and we both repeated the last words.
The ritual came to an end and was closed by the priest, who rang the bell again.
After that, we had to proceed to the nuptial kiss.
I took the athame that the man had held for me and cut my arm, staining my skin, then put a little of my blood on her lips and repeated the same with her.
Her teeth caught the skin of her lower lip as I slid the athame down her arm in a light caress.
As we joined our bloodied mouths, I wrapped my arms around her waist, resisting the urge to kiss her deeply as I let our lips linger in a gentle kiss.
I gave her what little was left of me without caring about receiving anything in return, and I smiled on her lips, feeling like the most complete person in the universe even though I had nothing inside.
The night before, I fell asleep after listening to him.
I’m still confused as hell, even scared, I might say.
I feel like my current self and my former self are completely different people.
It’s hard to imagine myself doing all that behind my parents’ backs.
Is that why he told me I was religious back in my room and gave me that creepy book?
And what else does he know about me that I don’t know myself?
Anyone in my place would have run away, but I already knew that the consequences of the decision I made years ago would haunt me until the end of my days. I was more than willing to enjoy those consequences with a smile on my face.
“Good morning,” he murmurs softly in my ear. The smile on his lips makes me sigh.
“Hi,” I say, closing my eyes again and snuggling back into his chest. I don’t know what time it is, but I don’t want to wake up. If I do, I’ll have to go back home, and I hate the idea of being separated from him.
Just as I begin to fall asleep, my father’s angry face pops into my head, causing me to pull away from his arms and sit up abruptly in bed.
“I have to talk to my father.”
He nods, then hands me my cell phone. I start dialing my father’s number with his blue eyes fixed on my every move.
“Finally, you’re showing signs of life! We were worried about you.” I bite my lower lip with remorse as I hear his words on the other end of the line.
“I know, I’m sorry. My phone ran out of battery in the middle of the night.”
“Next time, pay more attention to your phone.”
“I will.”
“So, when are you planning to come back? It’s past one o’clock, and we agreed you’d be here in the morning.”
“I know. I’ll stay for lunch at his house and then come back.”
“Do you want me to send Lance to pick you up?”