Chapter 32
This party was certainly…different from the last one.
Leviathan had warned him a bit as they’d walked through the palace.
Had warned him that this party was not meant to welcome him, cater to him…
this one was to celebrate Leviathan’s release from his mortal prison these last few hundred years.
This party was for demons. And things would be different.
The food, he’d told him quietly, would not be food he was comfortable with, though he was welcome to it.
The music loud, the vibe…intense. And the drinks, he’d murmured, he should avoid the drinks.
They were spiked, though he wouldn’t tell him with what.
Cullen had not realized how very…overwhelming it would all be. And how strangely human it still seemed.
The nightclub experience he had expected before had taken over, transforming the throne room into some grotesque underground party space.
The music throbbed in his ears and lights flared far too often, quickly piercing a headache deep into his skull.
Leviathan left him near the wall and did not complain when he stayed there as he moved away to talk to–what he claimed–were his friends.
Or close enough to it. Cullen merely leaned against the wall, his face pinched against the noise and lights and the hot press of bodies that danced to the music as if they were not immortal creatures that delighted in death and carnage.
He tried not to look at the platters of food that were carried past on servants' thin shoulders.
Or what passed for food in this terrible demon realm.
Fingers and toes and eyeballs and tongues, all of them plucked up and bitten into as if they were normal appetizers.
It was disgusting. And the fact that he had to cross his arms and grit his teeth against the growling in his stomach and the darkness that threatened to wash over him made him sick and angry.
But he didn’t complain. Because Leviathan had thought to warn him and something about that softened the hatred and disgust enough for him to just…ignore everything.
And he did, keeping his eyes from the worst of it, though his gaze kept flicking up now and then to find Leviathan in the crowd.
The demon prince had foregone his throne this time, mingling among his guests, and his laughter somehow kept carrying over the music, as if he meant for Cullen to hear it, to draw him out of his own mind.
And it worked, his eyes always roving until they found the source of that laughter.
It was easy enough right now. He was just a few feet away, his arm hooked over the shoulders of one of his friends–a pretty woman with dark hair and a too-human face–and his expression surprisingly open while he laughed at whatever joke one of the people standing around him had said.
Cullen didn’t quite understand why he felt a little bolt of jealousy at the sight. It wasn’t as if he cared what Leviathan did, really, and he’d already sworn a blood vow to him that he wouldn’t touch someone else in a sexual way anyway so…it made no sense to be upset. At all. In any way.
And he definitely wasn’t upset. He was only imagining the way his jaw clenched tight as the woman brought her hand up to touch Leviathan’s back. He was only imagining the way Leviathan’s eyes gleamed a little brighter when he turned to look at her–
Leviathan looked over at him then, his quick, knowing smile pinning Cullen in place.
He blinked, sucking in a breath when he realized exactly how hard he had been staring, and then spun away and hurried off in the opposite direction, throwing himself into the fray as he looked for one of those sparkly blue drinks he kept seeing.
His throat was parched, his lips dry and the snarling in his stomach was growing more and more intense…
He felt Leviathan’s gaze on him as he pushed his way through the crowd, as if he had no issue following him as he shoved his way through the thick group of demons. His chest felt tight and his body hot and heavy with discomfort and he couldn’t breathe–
A servant appeared in front of him just as he shoved his way through the edge of the crowd, finding himself on the opposite side of the room where the alcoves had been sealed off with silky red curtains.
The servant gave him a concerned look, but said nothing, only offering him a platter of sparkly blue and pink drinks.
Cullen took two of them without giving himself time to think, downing them both quickly–a soft, startled noise leaving him at the familiar cotton candy taste of them–before lowering them back to the platter.
He mumbled a quick thank you, feeling dizzy and even warmer than before, and moved away from the man.
The alcoves loomed, but he sensed it would be dangerous to enter one, to leave himself cornered and alone.
Though he was alone now, wasn’t he? Leviathan wasn’t anywhere near him and even if he had been he still would have been alone. The one normal person in this room full of monsters…
His head spun and a slow fog settled over his gaze, making those sharp edges soften until he felt like he was floating. He pressed up against the wall, letting the cold from the stone run into his hand and up his arm…
Drugged, he realized distantly. Leviathan had said the drinks were drugged. But drugged with what? He had never even done anything as a human, had never crossed that boundary with Walker breathing down his neck how bad it all was, how dangerous it was… If this was some strange demon narcotic…
He pushed away from the wall, wondering if he should try to find Leviathan, to ask him about the drinks or to take him back to his room.
But his body was too heavy now. He could barely force himself to take a single step. He swung to the side, his hand stretching out in front of him to clutch at the nearest silk curtain–and then he was in an alcove, his hand pressing flat to the wall to keep himself up as his body pitched forward.
A soft groan escaped him, his eyes squeezing closed as his body grew warmer…heavier…
“You look sick.”
He spun in shock at the voice, blinking blearily up at the woman who stood just a few feet away, her long blond braid draped over her shoulder and running down the long ruby-colored dress she wore. It shimmered in the dull light, as if it was encrusted with jewels and lights–
“You’re a very pretty young demon.” She murmured, moving closer. Desire hit him in a powerful wave, making him suck in a breath.
But it was not his own desire. The tangible wave had come from this woman. This demon. Cullen could sense her intentions as she stepped forward, a surprisingly strong hand curling around his wrist.
“Don’t touch me…” He mumbled, trying to tug away from her.
Her grip tightened and she quickly pressed closer, her curved body pressing up against his. He recoiled a bit, from the unwelcome touch and the sweet scent rolling off her. Too sweet. Cherry candy… He gagged and a burst of malice swept in to mix with her desire.
But she still did not move away, did not pause as she began to run her hands over him.
“Stop.” He gasped, pushing weakly at her hands, his back pressing harder to the wall to get away from her. His head spun and he quickly closed his eyes, moaning softly as the world tilted around him. “Don’t…don’t touch me…”
Her hand dropped, rubbing at his soft cock, and Cullen clutched at her hand, sucking in weak breaths to keep his head clear, welcoming the panic that came to help.
“Get off.” His voice was a little clearer. He squeezed her wrist and she hissed, tearing her hand away before slapping him sharply across the face. He let out a sharp gasp and flinched as she cupped her hand over his mouth.
“Hold still.” She snarled, starting to rub at him again.
The panic clutched him tighter, his face burning as his body began to betray him.
No. The word pierced through him, strong and harsh. No. Not her.
Leviathan was one thing. He knew him. Had lived with him before coming here, in a way. Leviathan had been kind to him and gentle and said sweet things even if he didn’t mean them.
But this woman…this demon…It just wanted him. It wanted to touch and take and hurt. And she smelled like cherries and he hated cherries and his head was spinning and–
“Leviathan!”
The word tore from him in a vicious scream, his voice carrying out of the alcove and over the music. He hadn’t even realized he’d inhaled, that he’d found his light in the darkness and that it belonged to someone who was arguably worse than this woman touching him.
The world paused, the woman’s face going stiff with surprise before sheer horror raced across it.
She spun–and Leviathan was there, his eyes wide and burning with rage as they flickered between the two of them pressed up against the wall.
His eyes met Cullen’s for a single heartbeat and Cullen wondered distantly if this had been a mistake, if Leviathan would misunderstand and he would die here–
But Leviathan turned his fury on the woman instead, his hand shooting forward to grip her by that long, beautiful braid, his fingers curling hard against her scalp.
“What happened?” His voice was soft, dripping with fury.
Cullen swallowed through a dry throat and whispered, “She touched me.” He shook his head and felt something warm on his cheeks. “I-I didn’t…I didn’t want it…” His voice caught and he realized distantly that he was crying.
The woman began crying as well, begging Leviathan to forgive her, that she hadn’t realized he was his, that she hadn’t known and she would never have done it if she did. Leviathan only stared at her with those crazed, furious eyes, an aura of death rolling off of him.
“Cullen.” He asked, the soft tone sending a bolt of terror down Cullen’s spine. “Are you hurt?”
“N-no.” He mumbled, slurring. “But I…I drank…something…” His head throbbed, dragging a groan from him. “I feel sick…”
“I see.” Leviathan whispered. He looked up at him then, pinning Cullen with that terrifying gaze. “Stay here.” It was an order–but not a forced one. A request, seeped in rage and protectiveness. But only a request.
He shoved the woman to her knees, making both her and Cullen gasp, and then he turned and dragged her from the room, tearing down the silk curtain as he went.
It tumbled to the ground, looking very much like a pool of blood on the floor.
But Cullen pushed past the image, stumbling weakly to the curved entrance of the alcove to watch Leviathan move through the crowd.
They parted for him, the music silencing and the light in the room growing a little brighter as he dragged that woman along by the hair.
She kicked and screamed and clutched at his hand, and not a single demon moved to help her.
Not a single one spoke up–or seemed particularly surprised that she was being punished in such a way.
Cullen couldn’t quite say he was either.
Leviathan dragged the woman up those unforgiving stone steps, pulling her all the way up to that beautiful bone throne before he finally stopped and turned to face them all. His hand tightened in her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to look up at him.
“Kneel.” He demanded.