Ba'el would fall if I took his power.
I would be Queen of Wrath. I would rule.
His sword sliced. I felt the metal as it cut through the fat, sinews and bone of my right calf muscle. The force made the blade wobble; I slammed forward too quickly to place my hands out to prevent my face from kissing the marble. My mouth filled with blood. My brain pulsated in my ears and echoed like a steel drum.
I was pinned to the ground. A scream ripped from my throat as the burning cauterisation of his blade began to twist and curl under the skin of my leg.
It would not heal. It would not regrow.
His magic entered my bloodstream like a virus. Ba'el stood over me. His combat boot was heavy on the small of my back as he twisted his foot to grind me into the ground.
I reached up and tried to push my upper body from the floor, but he forced his foot down onto my spine in a way that sparked every nerve ending.
“The kiss of my blade does not heal, Devil's bride. Would he still want you if you weren’t a perfect little princess?”
I did not have a chance to answer as Ba'el yanked the long blade from my calf and dragged the top of the sword along the floor as he circled my prone form. His magic, directly inside of my blood from his weapon, kept me pinned. I felt the wetness surround me as my blood leaked onto the floor and surrounded my body. My belly was wet and the crimson puddle grew slowly.
Before I had a chance to reach out, there was a sting and then silence. The sound of his blade as the flat hit the marble.
Then pain. Enough to make my vision turn white.
My eyes followed his steel toe cap boots as they walked in front of me. Ba'el knelt to meet my eyes, something cradled in his arms.
He dropped it to the ground in front of me with a satisfying thud. A scream built in my throat, and for once I could not silence my emotions. My reaction was ripped from me as horror filled my heart like a balloon and burst.
He'd cut off my leg.
I recognised every single one of the painted red toenails. I felt the burning ache and unbearable pain below my knee, even though there was nothing attached.
My vision dipped but rage kept me from fading. The Demon inside of me roared. Ba'el leant down to my level; his smile was unbearably wide. I did not the only thing I could think of. No magic. Just instinct.
I showed my thumbs into his eye sockets. The rest of my fingers gripped his head as I held on for dear life. He pushed me and his incredible strength rattled my bones. Still, I gripped and twisted my thumbs until his eyeballs turned to jelly and his blood trailed down his face in tears.
Ba'el's fist slammed into the side of my head as he tried to beat me off. He stood to his full height and my limb body came with him. I did not allow myself to look down and see where my leg had been parted from my body.
He tossed his head, like a dog with a rat, and I allowed my ice to reach into my fingertips. His pain intensified and keened.
Ba'el swung; his immense body weight worked against me as my fingers loosened. I felt my hands give way and I was thrown across the room. My back slammed into the floor.
My head kicked back and stars appeared behind my eyes. I reached forward and dragged the slack weight of my body along the floor. My finger’s strained and my nails snapped. The poison from his blade leeched into my system and I began to grow numb all over.
My hand met something smooth, but cracked. My hair began to rise as if I had put my hand into a power socket. I gripped onto it with all my strength and allowed it to pull me forward.
The voice of the throne filled my head.
Can I eat him?
I want the bones.
The marrow.
The blood.
Tear and rip. Take it all.
I had no idea why the throne was asking me, until I looked at my fist. I clung to the leg of the throne, at the head of the Second Circle. I felt the blackened magic latch onto my body and connect me to the source of Hell. I watched Ba'el as he clung to his head, like a wounded animal.
I opened my mouth to say yes. To tell the Second Circle to take him and rip him apart. The words did not make it past my lips. The throne did as I wished.
I was Wrath. Rage.
I was infinite.
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Standing in front of the mirror, I smoothed the skirt down over the contours of my body, arranging the bottom of the dress to hide my disability. I wore the only dress that Lucifer had kept. Silk and patterned with frost.
I studied my form from head to toe. The waist length curls in honey blonde to the whiskey irises that flashed silver in the light. One Louboutin. I lifted my skirt but dropped it before I caught sight of my Devil’s silver leg. A sharp, curved blade prosthesis that Luc had created for me.
I staggered backwards until I met the end of my bed and I sat down, numb. I was broken; my head was in my hands as my body wracked with silent sobs. Disfigured and no longer perfect.
Something had changed the day that I had clawed across the floor, poisoned by Wrath’s sword. I had lost my leg and it had not come back. I had gained more power of which I could have ever have dreamt. I had solidified my worth by answering the call of the Second Circle. Hell had deemed me worthier than Ba’el to hold the throne and wear the crown.
I was meant to be happy.
It was my wedding day. Finally.
The day that the Devil and his Consort became true mates. Soul bonded.
There was a soft knock on the door, but I did not look up to see who it was. I felt his magic like a sweet caress against my inner wrist, tugging my hand away from my face. My mascara caked the tips of my fingers from where I had rubbed my eyes. I thought bitterly about having to call the Hellhound back to pretty my face again, lest I look anything but perfect.
“Dahlia.” Lucifer’s voice broke through the harsh fog in my mind. “Darling, are you okay?”
I blinked up, confused. My warrior stepped in front of me, decked out in a regal black shirt with silver thread and a pair of his favourite leather trousers, tight enough to be obscene. His long platinum hair was drawn into a braid down his spine, and secured with a leather tie. My Devil.
“You’re not meant to see me before…” My voice trailed off, weak and cracked.
“I think you would agree that is an entirely human tradition and I have no wish to uphold something so trivial.” His smile tried to coax one of my own, but failed. “I hope your sorrow is not because of me.”
I cocked my head to the side and studied him, embarrassed by my outburst even if I had been alone when it had begun. I stood up and brushed my hands together. The edge of my false leg rubbed against the scar tissue of my knee as I stood and I was bitterly reminded of my loss. “I apologise, Master.”
Luc gripped the top of my arms and halted my escape. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. He pushed a stray tendril of my hair behind my ear and cupped my face. “What sort of Groom would I be if I couldn’t sooth my Bride of her misgivings before walking her up the aisle?” Lucifer’s voice was honey and it washed over me. Soothed me. I leant into his hand before pulling myself away.
You don’t deserve him.
Cracked and broken doll.
“Is this because of your leg?” Lucifer’s eyes were hard, but not in anger.
“Yes,” I admitted.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. His hand buried in the back of my hair, and I felt his warmth seep into my bones like warm bath water. I felt my muscles relax. Lucifer was home. He smelt like spiced winter berries, tart but sweet. His magic brushed against my body where his hands could not reach, every facet of my man searched for a way to comfort me.
“I can still feel it. I look down and think that it’s there. The occasional itch. The pinch of a stiletto shoe. I walk down a corridor in perfect time, only to scupper when the sound is different because I only have one shoe.” I choked out the words. Confessing to my
weakness. “I should be able to fix myself but I can’t. Something is wrong.”
“I don’t care that you have one leg,” Luc said.
“I care.” I gripped his forearms and pulled back so that I could look at his face. “I care that I cannot stand by your side, strong and whole.”
Lucifer’s pinched lips turned down into a frown. “Oh, Dahlia.” He whispered, shaking his head.
“I wanted to be perfect for you,” I whispered; my voice was tight and high like a small child.
“You are.” Luc held me tightly, pleading. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
I shook my head to disagree, but he placed his hand over my mouth.
“Listen, you infuriating woman. You’re the mother of my child. You were made for me. You are strong and resilient and powerful enough to rule your own Kingdom. You don’t need me, but I am blessed enough to share the same air as you. I am honoured to be loved by you, Dahlia Clark. Today we will Soul Bond, and we will become equals in the eyes of all Hellions. I need you to know that you deserve this.”
My lip trembled as my heart swelled with love for him. I leant forward, halting his speech by placing a delicate kiss on the corner of his lips. Lucifer chuckled and tugged my head back, his hand tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck. Ruining the hairstyle that had taken hours to pin.
“Do we have time?” Luc breathed, his nose traced the seam of my jaw and goosebumps rose over every inch of my body. “I plan to kiss the lipstick from your mouth.”
“Just my mouth?” I quirked a brow.
His hand gripped the material of my dress, and I felt this fingers through the fabric on my upper thigh. “It’s my first order of business.” Luc dropped to his knees and lifted the tulle petticoat and slipped underneath the ball gown. I squashed the hint of unease, of having him so close to my missing leg, and allowed his words of love to roll over me like a wave. His callused fingers eased the edge of my stockings and trailed the seam of the lace until I felt his hot breath on the outside of my underwear. I bit back a groan. Desperate for his mouth.
“Luc,” I whimpered.
His answer was a husky laugh as his mouth covered my sex through my underwear and his tongue speared the wet fabric. His hands gripped my thighs and spread them apart as I dropped down onto the bed. The Devil’s was buried in my pussy, hidden under the mass of poofy fabric.
“I want you.” I hissed. “I want—”
“What do you want, Pet?” He coaxed the answer from me and encouraged my begging with the curl of his fingers inside of me. The sound of my wetness as he thrust his digits inside of me made my eyes roll back inside of my head, and my bosom heaved.
“I want you inside.” I gasped as he rubbed the spot inside of me. Pressure built. Answering my request, Lucifer stood and undid his zipper. Taking his member in his hand, he stroked it slowly as he looked down at me with hooded eyes. My thighs laid parted on the bed, fallen open as my sex wept and begged for him.
He placed his palm on my flat stomach; his other hand was on his cock as he fed it to me inch by inch. I panted, groaned and writhed at the friction. Lucifer swore under his breath. My hands roamed his shoulders and pulled his lips to my own. With one thrust, he speared me. His balls slapped against the inside of my thighs as I felt his hardness reach inside of me. Hard enough to make my stomach tingle and my womb to spark with pleasure.
“Mine.” He breathed.
“Yours,” I replied as my orgasm tore through me and tugged his along with it. We both shook, tightened and released at the same time. Screaming into each other’s mouths, around our kisses.
There was not enough skin to touch, or time to show much we meant to one another. I looked up into my husband-to-be’s silver eyes and found a warmth there that I hadn’t seen before. He studied me like I was a precious artefact and the answer to all of life’s problems at the same time.
A sleepy smile crept across his lips. “Let’s go get married.” He urged playfully.
My heart swelled, and for once in my life, I belonged.
Everyone turned to look but I focused on the dried lavender bouquet in my hands and on putting one foot in front of the other. Abaddon walked by my side, with our arms looped as he led me up the aisle.
If someone had told me, back when I sat in my office in Mayfair and signed people's souls away, that I would be tying my own soul to Lucifer, I would have laughed in their face.
The First Circle had all come. The Second Circle Valkyries had pledged their fealty to me and I did not need to look to know that my subjects were bowed down as I walked past.
For one of the first times in my life, I allowed my happiness to shine out of my face. My smile spread across my lips, from ear to ear. My eyes met Luc's at the end of the aisle and it was as if I wouldn’t walk fast enough.
The rose petals were soft against my foot and cushioned against the dead grass. I had forgone my designer shoes and I walked with my false leg and my head held high. My Luc had told me to have pride and I did.
Petra and Luiz waited by Luc's side and my daughter waved excitedly. Luiz wiped away a tear and I shook my head and laughed. Silly Hound. I was so full of love that I thought that I would burst.
When I reached the end of the aisle, Pascal the Scribe nodded. His scrawny arms held a tome that looked heavier than him. I could smell the dust from his ceremonial robe.
Luc's smile was crooked, and his eyes warmed when I handed my bouquet to Petra and took his hands. My magic sang to his and rubbed against his like two cats in heat.
I stifled a laugh and Lucifer beamed brightly. He raised our joined hands to the sky, showing our union to all of the crowd.
Pascal cleared his throat to begin our vows and he welcomed the crowd to the ceremony and festival. My eyes scanned our audience and drank in the faces of every person I had ever met from every Circle.
Amore sat in the front row in an obscene dress, fanning herself with an oriental paper fan and smiling wickedly. She wiggled her fingers to greet me.
My smile faltered when I caught a glimpse of bronze skin and scarred runes. I saw Uriah at the edge of the aisle, stoic and strong. I stepped forward, but Luc's joined hands stopped me. I looked down in confusion but when I glanced back to the crowd, there was no one there.
My brow furrowed. I must have been seeing things.
I turned back to Luc and reached up to cup his cheeks.
“Shall we begin this union?” Pascal's creaky voice carried over the crowd and their murmurs of excitement. “If anyone has any objections, or reasons by Hell Lore that this union cannot take place, speak now or rot in the Pit.”
We waited the cursory moment. Lucifer and I felt it first. A low hum. A high-pitched whine. We darted forward, shielding our daughter as the sky erupted with holy light.
Dark shadows poured out of the rip in the clouds. The sky began to pour with crimson rain.
“Who would dare to interrupt my wedding?” Lucifer gripped our daughter and shielded her from the bloody droplets. The answer to his bellowed question was one word, from the lips of the person I least expected.
“Me.”
The Story Continues in
‘The Devil’s Equal’
Luc or Uriah?
The story continues in The Devil’s Equal
The final instalment of the Devil's Advocate trilogy.
Coming soon
As the newly crowned Ruler of the Second Circle,
Dahlia Clark must discover what it means to be a mother, a fallen angel and
A True Queen of Hell.
When her wedding is interrupted by a most unexpected guest,
Dahlia must work with her enemies to contain the blight of Madness that is plaguing Hell and to keep the beasts under the surface from waking up.
Will Dahlia finally Soul Bond with Lucifer or will her connection with the Angel, Uriah, get in the way?
Why not add ‘The Devil’s Equal’ to your Goodreads TBR list?
Thanks for reading!
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One little Angel. All in white.
Tried to get to Heaven on the end of a kite.
The kite was broken and down She fell.
She couldn’t get to Heaven.
So, she went to Hell!
The Devil’s Lullaby
Playlist
Amber Run – I Found
Lana Del Rey – Lust for Life
Tove Lo – Cool Girl
Jaymes Young – I’ll be Good
The Lumineers – Sleep on the floor
Hozier – Work Song
The Neighborhood – Daddy Issues
Selena Gomez - Fetish
If you liked Luc and Dahlia’s story, you’ll love ‘The Bleeders’!
Now free on Amazon Kindle
All I wanted was to kill them.
The people that murdered my sister.
Little did I know that the man I hired to do the job,
Henry Blaire was an incubus.
A soul-sucking monster that can kill with one touch.
He's dark, dangerous and addictive. Literally.
There is a word for people like me.
People that drink daemon blood to become
powerful, beautiful and strong.
They call us The Bleeders.
Who is Nora Bleu?
[Available on Kindle Unlimited]
An Advocate novella
The Devil's Lullaby (The Devil's Advocate Book 2) Page 22
