by Angel Lawson
This, of course, is horseshit. I didn’t pray, and I never atoned for any of my sins. The feeling I got in my gut was deeper than a religious moment. It came from somewhere beyond the heavens. Perhaps Hell itself, because the insight I had may save the lives of my army, but it certainly took the souls of thousands of other innocent men in the process.
I take a sip of wine and eye the females sitting across the room. The twins are lovely creatures; evil and full of spite. They belong to the Priest. He claims they’re possessed by the Devil and were sent to him for redemption. I think it’s just his predilection—an excuse for him to fulfil his own fantasies under the guise of doing the Lord’s work. The twins are like spiders. Each and every night they spin their web, luring in prey. Tonight’s victims walk in the back door, dressed in their seductive, revealing clothes, right into their trap.
Once upon a time I asked the Priest about love and marriage. He laughed and said I was too young to consider such things, but that God had given me a gift. In return, it’s my duty to focus on war. On expanding my father’s empire. To take what I want, kill whoever gets in my way, and women? They are my playthings.
New females are brought to me to choose from, to play with, to use to quench my desires. I pick one, or two, send them to my chambers and take my time.
But tonight, something is different—there’s an ache in the pit of my belly. Nauseating. It’s been growing stronger as the evening passes, and when I catch sight of the concubines across the room, I break into a clammy sweat.
There are two females sitting between the twins. One shaking with fear. The other sitting with a rebellious expression on her face. The defiance draws me in almost as much as her unparalleled beauty. Her hair is pure white, her skin smooth and pale. Her eyes burn like a fire under ice and the pain in my stomach twists and turns into something else.
Longing desire.
“Her,” I mutter quietly. “Someone bring her to me.”
“To your room?” My attendant asks. I like privacy when I’m with my females. I like to take my time, I like to see their faces when they realize they’ve been left alone with me, the Dark Prince.
In my chambers, the concubines get to learn why I’m called The Devil.
“No.” I reply suddenly. “Bring her here.”
The insistence in my voice catches the Priest’s attention. He looks over his shoulder and pauses when he sees the girl.
“Are you sure?”
No.
Yes.
“Are you questioning me?” I respond back. Certainly, the Priest has an extreme amount of control over me, but ultimately, I’m in charge.
“No, Your Highness.”
“Good.” I snap my fingers. “Bring her to me. Now.”
My attendant rushes away, and I know that I shouldn’t pick her.
But every instinct tells me that I should. Like I said, I always follow my gut.
Why? To break her? To snuff out that defiance? The fire in her eyes?
Whatever it is, I’m about to find out.
14
Hildi
“Your presence has been requested by the Dark Prince,” the man says from a few feet away. He makes an effort not to look me or any of the other girls in the eyes. I stand and circle the table, aware that Elizabeth may not even notice me leaving the couch. She’s caught in Clara’s web. The man starts toward the main table and I hear Cora ask, “You’re taking her to the table? Not his room?”
“The prince requested her at the table.”
“But—”
The attendant cuts her a harsh glare. “Since when do you question the desires of the Dark Prince?”
Clara draws her attention away from Elizabeth, and the twins exchange a curious look, but I have no time to know what it means as I’m nudged forward.
I feel more exposed than ever, walking across the drafty room. My belly is exposed, and my feet are bare. A sliver anklet jangles against my skin. A man in a white robe follow my movements, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Rupert had told me about the priests that had controlled his life. Is that who it is?
That question is pushed aside as I’m directed toward the other side of the table, toward a man I barely recognize. Well, barely a man, at that. Rupert had been a leader in the army as a teenager and, at first, I’d been wary of his youth. Sometimes it’s hard to reconcile the face and body of a twenty-year-old with the mind of an immortal being. He’d proven to me his capabilities as a man on more than one occasion.
At the moment, it’s not his youth that concerns me. It’s the dark glint in his eye, the calculating assessment. This Rupert is different. He’s not part of a larger team—the Legion of Immortals—that fought side by side under the tight fist of the God of War. He’s a prince; the Dark Prince, and his gaze cuts to the bone.
This is the Rupert that viewed women as objects. Non-emotional playthings with no role other than to fulfil his desires. I’d taken me weeks to coax out the man that’d become my lover.
Something tells me I don’t have weeks to win over this Prince.
The attendant directs me to the empty spot next to Rupert—on his chair—and whispers in my ear, “Remember your job is to please the Prince, nothing more. Oh, and don’t look him in the eye.”
I ease into the seat, brushing against Rupert’s side. He’s never been brawny like Agis or Armin. He’s lankier—thinner—but I know the muscles under his velvet coat and white shirt are lean and hard. I know the hair under his naval is soft and a darker shade of red than on his head. I also know what his cock tastes like, feels like in my mouth.
“What are you thinking so intensely about, female?” he asks, his voice confident and authoritative.
I force my eyes down. “Uh, that it’s a pleasure to be sitting with you right now.”
His fingers graze the side of my face. “Your cheeks are flushed. Are you nervous?”
It’s obvious that he doesn’t recognize me, and without the rings, I have no idea how I’m going to break him from this spell.
“Only that I won’t succeed in giving you want you want,” I swallow and add, “or need.”
Rupert nods to his attendant and a series of things happen at once. Another attendant appears and pours a large glass of dark red wine and another arrives with a plate of food. Both are given to me. Next, across the room, musicians pick up their instruments and begin playing a loud, jovial tune. Many of the men at the table stand then cross the room, where they seek dance partners from the tables where the women sit together. As this happens, I feel gentle fingertips running down the exposed skin on my back. An electric thrill courses down my spine. Despite the fact he doesn’t recognize me, my body still reacts to him the same as it had in the Academy. I wonder if his reacts to mine as well.
He feigns interest in the entertainment, watching the musicians, but his hands roam, revealing where his true attention lies. He strokes the sheer fabric of the flimsy pants I’d been given to wear. His touch is perfection, much more confident than the Rupert I’d known at the Academy—the one that came humiliatingly early the first time I’d kissed him. In this world, this circle of Hell, the Dark Prince is in control of his body—and consequently, mine. A shiver rolls through me as his fingers lazily massage my inner thighs, dipping closer and closer with every rotation.
“You like that,” he says in a murmur. “You like to be touched.”
“Y—yes, Your Highness.” I inhale sharply when the tip of his fingers meet their intended target. Several men glance my way. I should be embarrassed, but desire builds in me. I manage to ask, “Shouldn’t you let me touch you?”
He chuckles. “Let me have my fun.”
I reach for my glass of wine and take a sip, hoping the alcohol will ease the knowledge that we’re very much in public. The truth is that I don’t really care. I’ve missed having Rupert’s hands on me—and there’s something about this place that wipes away inhibitions. One look across the room and I see Elizabeth kissing one of the twins passionately.
>
Guess I’m not the only one that has lost my sense of decorum.
“I saw you when you walked in,” he says, tugging at the strap of my top. His lips seductively kiss the top of my shoulder. My skin ignites. “Well—I think I felt you long before that.”
“Felt me?” I ask, looking at my lap.
“Haven’t you heard? I have the gift of sight. Mostly for the battlefield, but sometimes for other things as well.”
So, he still has premonitions—or at the very least, his superior instinct. One reason Camulus picked each of the Immortals was their unique talents in the human world. They transformed in the supernatural world and grew even stronger at the academy. Rupert’s were developing into a psychic connection…often with me.
“I didn’t know that,” I lie, “tell me what you can sense.”
“I know that you’re not afraid of me.” His fingers graze the side of my breast and my nipple hardens beneath the beaded fabric. He smiles at the reaction. “Most of the females brought to me are terrified. They’ve heard rumors of what it’s like to be in my company. But not you, why aren’t you afraid of me?”
Because I know you, I want to say. Because we’ve worked together, fought together, made love…
I swallow back the truth. “I find your ruthlessness attractive. Your power seductive.” I look across the room at the concubines, where Elizabeth reclines on the couch, the twins both plying her with attention. “I’m not like other females. I’m not afraid of the rumors, or of the truth about who you really are.”
He kisses down my arm, the inside of my elbow and the center of my wrist. He licks my fingertips, pausing at the ring on my finger. “This is exquisite,” he says, studying the purple stone. It warms against my skin, pulsing with life. “Where did you get it.”
“A friend made it for me.”
“Your friend is very talented.”
I dare a look at his face while he assesses the ring. Can he feel the powers infused in the metal? Does it trigger his own abilities? He doesn’t say, but lowers my hand to his thigh, and begins kissing my neck.
“What else does your intuition tell you?” I ask, my voice uneven from the feel of his hot mouth against my skin.
“I know that I want everyone in the room to see you with me. To see what I’m going to do to you. To watch me ravage you.”
Although some of the guests at the table are on the dance floor, many are still nearby. I feel their eyes on us—watching as he slowly stakes his claim. Every nerve in my body goes on alert—not out of fear, but out of desire. Suddenly I’m very aware of what true lust feels like, how it consumes, and all I want is more.
I make a bold move, sliding my hand up and down his thigh. It’s presumptuous and in a place like this, could probably get me killed. Rupert groans and leans back, legs apart. His velvet jacket separates, revealing the crotch of his thin trousers. His arousal is noticeable. My belly twists with delight.
His fingers touch my chin, and he lifts my face upward, forcing my eyes to meet his. The surge of desire is even greater than before. It’s as though looking at him—really looking at him—increases the intensity.
I lick my bottom lip and his eyes dart down, watching my every move. He bends, brushing his lips across mine, followed by the swipe of his wine-soaked tongue. His fingers roam down my side, inching across my back. In a quick move, he lifts me, placing me on his lap so that I’m facing him. His erection presses against me.
“I want you facing me,” he says, kissing my shoulder, “looking at me.”
I nod, holding his eye, and kiss him in return, not caring at all that there are others in the room. All I want is to feel the man I’m with. I wriggle against him, the dampness on my panties growing with my intensifying want, and he hisses in return, tongue plunging into my mouth. His hands cup my breasts and his kisses move downward, blazing a trail over the swell of flesh. He tugs at the bikini and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking against the hardened peak. My head drops back and I moan. Rupert’s hips shift beneath me seeking friction.
“I don’t know who you are,” he says. “A witch? A succubus?”
I shake my head. “None of those.”
“You are not of this world.”
I almost laugh and tell him that none of us are, but he stands suddenly, and clears the table with his arm, then lies me on my back. He leans over me, hair hanging over his shoulders, crown glinting in the candlelight. It gives me a thrill to see him so powerful—so demanding. The room fades around us, the chords of the music faint and vague. All I see is him, all I feel his strength as he yanks the sheer pants off my legs, followed by my panties. His trousers fall next, and I see his manhood bobbing with arousal. He grabs my hips and pulls me to the edge of the table, he teases me with the tip, my body shuddering with want.
Faint awareness tells me that this is the Devil winning, that I’ve allowed Lust to take over, that I’ve succumbed to this circle in Hell and now we may be trapped for good. That recognition is swept away as Rupert bends to kiss me at the same time he penetrates me, filling me with his length. The action sends a wave of relief down my overheated body, and he doesn’t hesitate before pulling out and driving in again. Our eyes lock as our bodies join, and I cry out with desire. If this is what happens to souls trapped in the second circle, then I never want to leave. Not if this is what it feels like, not if this is what it’s like.
Waves of pleasure ripple through my body, my nerves on fire. Rupert’s fingers thread through mine and I squeeze. I feel the build-up, heightened in a way I didn’t know was possible, the coil wound so tight that I think I may break before I’ll reach my release. Rupert’s jaw is tight, his face pinched but his eyes never waver from my own. We’re linked, just like our hands, our bodies, our souls. Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, when I think I’ve lost myself to the rhythm of our lovemaking, the wave breaks, rushing though me in quivering shudders. Rupert follows, his hands clenching, his head titled back. He roars my name, a name I never gave the Prince, as he plunges in me one last time.
He falls over me, then rolls to the side, where we lie on our backs next to one another. The music is gone and when I look up I don’t see the stone of the castle ceiling. Stars blaze overhead, millions filling a pitch-black sky. The last thing I’d heard was my name. A name I never gave the Dark Prince. His fingers are still laced with mine. The ring is warm with heat.
I lift on my elbow and look at the man next to me, his eyes hooded with exhaustion. I touch his cheek and his eyelids flutter.
“Hildi?” he asks, voice raw. He blinks again. “Where are we?”
I look down and see that I’m wearing my leather pants and vest—the harem outfit gone. I scramble for the pouch in my pocket and exhale in relief when it’s there. I pull out a ring and take Rupert’s hand, sliding the metal band on his finger.
Whatever happened in that room, in that pit of Hell, proved we don’t need the rings to secure our bond, but I don’t want to risk it. I kiss him, thankful that he’s back, that he’s mine, and I’m never letting him go again.
15
Hildi
Luke leads us, bewildered and struggling with what I can only describe as lust withdrawals, away from the second circle. Up ahead are train tracks and a small box-shaped station. He walks up to the man working the window and purchases five tickets. Armin holds Rupert up, his brain and body drained from his time in the circle. With every step forward, the reality of what we’d just experienced comes crashing down. I’d been so overwhelmed by lust, so overcome with desire that I’d had sex with him right there, on the table, in a room full of people. But that’s not all. Now that we’re out of the fog, away from the Dark Prince’s castle, I can’t help but think about what Rupert had done with and to other women before I got there. Death, sex, torture…I knew he wasn’t in his right mind. I knew that, but it still made me feel sick to my stomach to consider it, and despite the fact we’d just had realm-shattering sex and secured our bond, I felt very, very dist
ant from him.
Armin lowers Rupert to a bench on the station platform and sits next to him. Elizabeth stretches out on the middle section of the bench, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. I weigh my options but ultimately take a seat as far away as possible. I need to sort out my feelings.
“Can I sit here?”
I don’t have to look up to know that Luke is standing over me. “Sure.”
The bench creaks under his weight and his long legs stretch into the empty platform ahead of us. Other than the building and tracks, we’re in the middle of nowhere.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks, suddenly.
“Talk about what?” I glance past him to catch a glimpse of Rupert. Armin’s speaking to him quietly.
He bends over and rests his elbows on his knees. “My father created the rings to destroy people, Hildi. You’ve now been through two in just as many days. I know you haven’t personally been tortured but the people you care for are, and that is just as traumatic.”
“I’m fine.” I stare down at my boots. “What Rupert and I did…it was consensual—it was right.”
“Of course, it was, you broke him free of the spell—something no one else would be able to do.” He fidgets with the tickets in his hands. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings about how things happened. Lucifer sets every scenario up for a win—there’s a cost to every interaction down here.”
I frown and dare a look at him. “What do you mean?”
“He needs you weakened before you get to the City of Dis.”
“If I get there.” After tonight, I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.
“Oh, you’ll get there. Not just because the gods want you there—but because you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He shifts his feet. “The rest of us are here to back you up. Help you with your mission. We’re here to help you save the realms. We know that, and so does my father.”
