by S J Doran
He gave Mara a brief nod then freed one of his hands. With a brisk gesture, he began to pull the infernal energy from the former mortal. Mara’s mouth twitching up into a grin, catching on to what he was doing once the room filled with the Lich King’s agony.
Then she began to feed.
It made his chest warm. It was like he was spoon feeding her, caring for her just as he should be. Neither of them flinched at the screams of raw anguish, neither noticed the walls shaking as the ground rolled. Neither paid much attention to Cass prying the Ruby from the staff and tucking the Ruby Rod into his pants…
“I don’t think I like it here,” Mara said, breathless from the rush of power.
“Did you get enough?” His hand found the Ruby at his hip and grasped it, following the lines of the creation of this rift.
Mara’s hand touched his arm, gently, but in warning. “Let him go for now, we need a way out.”
“I got this,” he whispered as he slid his hand around the back of her neck.
His lips searched out hers, the Lich King’s weak whimpering fading out when ecstasy sang through him. She tasted divine, creation and chaos, entropy and harmony, nuances to her he’d never before sensed this strongly calling to him at the most primal level.
Her fingers twisted into his hair, their tongues tangling with desperate need, her body pressing closer to his. His hand cupped her ass cheek, his hips rocking into hers — it no longer mattered where they were. He needed her.
“First of all,” a voice rang through the room, “I like my existence the way it is.”
He pulled back from Mara, meeting her startled expression, before looking around the room to see Mephistopheles walking through the open wall across from them.
“Second of all.” The dapper former celestial removed his top hat, dusting it off before yelling, “I LIKE MY EXISTENCE THE WAY IT IS.”
Cass shifted in front of Mara, holding out his arm to keep her behind him.
“What in all the Hells were you thinking, Hell-spawn, that you’d drop the Leviathan into my parlor?”
“It’s barely touching your realm.” Cass’s arms crossed over his chest, his back straightening.
“It’s. In. My. Realm.” Mephistopheles was red in the face, visibly enraged.
“Think of it as a new pet,” Cass tossed back, not to be cowed by angry underlings. “We can’t guarantee it’s housebroken.”
Mara stepped up to his side. “Though it’s proven capable of breaking houses.”
Mephistopheles yanked his hat back on to his head with a growl, his visage flickering to the red-skinned, horned demon as he turned on the Lich King.
“And what am I to do with this mess?” The hulking beast still stood there, speaking with Mephistopheles’ reasonable tone. “I like my mortal souls without flesh.”
“Oh, that can easily be arranged,” Mara muttered from his side.
Cass shrugged his shoulders. “He’s done for.”
Mephistopheles moved in closer, nudging Mara from Cass’s side. They were all so sensitive about the near-end of the known worlds.
“You look different.” Mephistopheles tilted up Cass’s chin with one clawed talon.
“As do you,” Cass said with a snort.
“Back off Lucifer.” Mara grabbed the demon’s wrist and tugged its hand down from Cass’s face. “I’ll take the Lich off your hands. I have a use for them.”
Right. The easiest way for her to get alchemist’s gold would be to bring back the Lich to recreate it in Asurim for her. A compromise, of sorts, since it was unlikely their scrabbling collection had yielded a complete recipe.
“You do that, Priestess.” He melted back into his angelic form, his eyes never leaving Cass’s. “Then the young King and I will discuss his rearrangement of the Hells. Remember, Cassius, the reason I didn’t challenge your father’s right to rule was because I didn’t want the responsibility for the creatures that dwelled before the creation of our home.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Mara said, her tone warning.
Mephistopheles gave her a blinding smile. “Charming, as always, Amara. Come, let’s gather your prisoners.”
“You happen to know your way around this maze?” Cass looked around the cavernous room. “Or you have some way of summoning all the Lich here so I can shove them through a gate.”
“Their castle is right through that door,” Mephistopheles said with a negligent wave of his hand.
Both he and Mara turned as one to an open wooden door on the opposite side of the room from where Meph had entered.
“Well son of a…”
I now pronounce you
The cacophony inside the black temple fell silent when doors opened wide, as the army of Lich marched into its hallowed halls, led by a widely grinning Demon King, and a Warlock Queen who looked a little too smug for comfort while holding a skull between her hands.
It was all that remained of the lecherous Lich king after she and Cassius had seen retribution meted for offenses given. And there had been many.
As was expected, acolytes, ambassadors and masters alike dropped to their knees at their approach, some bestowing the honor out of reverence, most doing so out of fear. Either one serving just fine.
“I am really beginning to enjoy the sight of this,” Cass murmured at her side as he surveyed the offered veneration.
She gave a shrug at the imposing sight. “A regular show of power is preferable over the occasional display of cruelty.” There had been plenty of those in the past, there would surely be more in the future. But hells how she hoped none would be required this day.
“You skinned me, burned my bones and took my head! How is that not cruelty?” The angered voice rose up from between her grip as they advanced further into the Hall.
“You’ve been away from Hell too long old friend, you have forgotten what true pain and loss feel like.” Mephistopheles said, and she could hear the icy notes concealed within his easy laughter.
The flames of candles reflected brightly upon the black steps to her altar, casting the illusion of night skies and fiery stars, all framing the jade throne which awaited the Sarratum’s return. Soft furs made the cold stone look inviting, their shade the same white as the mound of skulls which formed the base of her seat. Former enemies, their heads claimed, their deceitful eyes plucked out and replaced by the green shine of emeralds. Never having given it true consideration before, she decided then that she in fact liked her throne.
Our throne.
“The demonarchy would prostrate themselves before you if you but demanded the reverence, young king.” The Demon Prince continued, clearly finding the Lich King’s plight unworthy of his prolonged attention. “Perhaps, Cassius, you’ve been too easy on your subjects in this, and other matters?”
“Have you been speaking with Levistus?” Cassius’s disgruntled tone caused her brow to arch up in question. What in the nine hells had the old goat done this time? The question remained unanswered as Mephistopheles’s easy laughter rang out over her shoulder.
“Unlikely. I find the Prince of Secrets dreadfully boring with his politics and revolutionary ideals.” Mephistopheles remained amused, looking over the prostrate crowd.
“My father inspired revolution.” Cass stood proud, a true King. “I’m content to inspire respect.”
Her demon could aspire to so much more—did he not realize how fearful his power could be? Her attention was snared by the nine figures flanking her, their throne. Her Dominae were in attendance, each dressed in traditional black robes which highlighted the elaborate headdresses of exotic feathers and precious metals they donned.
She’d elevated each of them a ruling regent over the nine dominions. Each of them a king and queen in their own right, bound to serve the realm of Asurim, answerable only to their sarratum. It was rare to see them all assembled, and when they did in the past, it had always spelled trouble for her. Shoulders back and head tilted up in defiance, she met her advisors scorn filled ga
zes.
“Is there a problem, Dominae shi?”
The very next breath she took got stuck in her throat, the steady beat of her heart stuttering in her chest. Most present would assume her shock a result of the tension she could feel in the air between them, but it wasn’t. Her heart skipped, her breath seized and her body heated, simply because of the feel of Cassius’s warm hand as he entwined his fingers with her cold ones.
“Welcome home, Sarratum sa.” It was Dominus Malachi who addressed her, one of the few whose gaze wasn’t troubled, not fixed upon their joined hands. “You’ve brought company?”
“They are my wedding dowry, Dominus Malachi. I present you the finest alchemists in this universe, they are to join our academy and have agreed to fill Asurim’s treasury with Lich gold. In exchange, I ask your blessing upon my chosen Sarrum.”
Berith’s narrowed gaze moved up from their joined hands to stare at them in challenge, Cass standing stiff and proud by her side, his happiness radiating from his sigil on her palm.
“This is unacceptable. Even if you stoop to bribery, the masters of the realm will never agree to this union. Place a demon at your side highness, and you will start a revolt amongst your own people.”
She could sense disdain waft off him like a cloud of toxic miasma, and there was something else, something far more unsettling than hurt pride or rage within Berith’s gaze. It was so startling in fact that she was sure she’d not seen it correctly. Her Dominae were amongst the fiercest warriors and most powerful casters of their race, their potent wards certain to render them impervious to the madness of corruption when not exposed to the Nessus. Then why had the hairs at the back of her neck raised at the sight of that flitting shimmer of madness within those gemstone eyes?
“I’m not asking permission.” Cold settled in her chest. This was going exactly as she’d feared. She’d accomplished nothing by bringing the Alchemists here.
“I’m not so sure of that lord Dominus…” It was Levistus’s voice that rang through the now silent hall as he and Benzosia moved to join Mephistopheles’s side, lending their strength to their numbers.
“Power and greed have always done wonders in healing wounded warlock pride,” Benzosia added helpfully, her statement more fact than accusation. It was a well-known weakness to their kind, one Glasya and Asmodeus themselves had used in their schemings. But this was different, this was her Cassius.
The ceremonial hall had fallen quiet, only hushed whispers flowing amidst the sea of creatures in attendance, each of them hoping to catch the latest gossip involving the Demon King, and the Warlock Queen. She decided then that they would get their wish today.
“Understand my intentions well Dominae shi, I ask for your blessing and that of my people, but I do not require it. From this day forth you will address King Cassius by his rightful title, that of Sarrum of Asurim, your High King. Anything less will be considered treason and receive punishment in accordance. Have I made myself clear?”
Her eyes remained locked on her Dominae, patiently waiting as the full extent of her declaration sunk in.
“But...there has been no blessing, no binding ceremony, no coronation…” Domina Ravanna’s tone was uncharacteristically brittle with shock.
“Mere formalities, which will be rectified as soon as the Lich have settled, and preparations can be made. Have General Andromeda informed of my decision, and that those who dare defy my command are to meet a traitor’s death in the arena.”
Tense moments stretched between them, her anxiety growing with the possibility of her Dominae placing public challenge to her command. Which would be unfortunate, for though she felt disappointed with them, she didn’t wish for their death. Finally, one by one, nine heads lowered in reverence, all speaking out as one.
“As you wish, Sarratum sa.”
And with that, she could breathe again. Tension drained from her too-stiff body, her nine dispersed with a bow to see her commands made public and commence arrangements for Lich and binding ceremony.
“Amata?” Beloved.
She turned suddenly. The chaotic thoughts rioting through her mind all coming to a screeching halt at the sound of her demon’s voice.
“Oh shit, I completely messed that up didn’t I?”
Romance wasn’t her expertise by any means, but she had heard plenty of fairy tales and had upon occasion watched a sappy movie or two while in Gaia, entirely for research purposes, of course. And they all shared one theme in common, proposals for matrimony were romantic events, fueled by sentiments of love rather than anger and death threats.
The fact was that other than the gestures of kindness Cassius had bestowed upon her from behind those iron bars, she lacked any true experience in courtship. Her involvement with the Fae King over the last century had kept the gallants at bay, which had suited her splendidly at the time, but now left her awkward and unprepared for the task of wooing. Perhaps she could ask for a do-over? She’d arrange for candles, flowers, and wine to be prepared in her chambers, maybe?
“Did you mean that, assat-shi?” My wife
Her cheeks heated, her palms growing slick with sweat. All she wanted at that moment was to withdraw, find a decently sized rock and crawl under it. “I’m sorry Cass. I can’t seem to stop screwing things up with you, and...”
That beautiful, maddening smile he wore faltered as she spoke, causing her to instinctively snap her lips shut. Casting an alarmed gaze in the direction of his entourage, fervently wishing any of them would step in to save her. None did, not even the blowhard skull she held perched under her arm.
“Then, you didn’t mean it?”
Embarrassment melted away for panic, her heart faltering as the bright embers of his eyes begin to douse.
“No… I mean, yes. I mean, shit. This simply isn’t the way that’s done, is it? I didn’t even present you with a wedding token.” Dark gods she was actually making it worse. “I mean, I have a ring for you. But I had it put away thinking you’d never return. Then fearing you’d change your mind knowing we couldn’t... I just...”
She desperately needed to stop talking, but words just kept spilling out even as he moved closer. That smile she adored vanished from his lips, his eyes no longer filled with softly glowing embers, but the fires of an inferno. “I’m sorry, I should have prepared, made sure our engagement to be a good memory for you. You already have so few of them.”
His lips crushed her own, his kiss blissfully silencing her ramblings. Quieting the chaos inside her mind. Incinerating her and leaving her a mindless shell. Only breaking apart when the need for breath became too demanding.
“What does this mean Mara? I need to hear you say it. I need you to promise me.” His kisses fell against her cheek, against her forehead and lips, his arms closing around her waist, as if afraid she’d try to run. In the past, she would have. Someone reached for the skull in her hands, and she relented it without even bothering to see who was taking her prize. Too consumed by the demon whose embrace enveloped her.
“It means I will marry you, Cassius. I will bind myself to you again, and do so as many times as it takes for me to be able to call you my own. Libbu Shi e’ Sarrum shi.” My heart and my king
His mouth, his lips, his tongue, all weapons designed to rob her of her senses. She suckled, he licked, each greedily chasing after the other’s taste. He intoxicated her, calmed her mind while wreaking havoc through her heating body.
When he moved to withdraw she resisted, their eyes locked as they each released a heated breath. His palm came up to caress her cheek, holding her as if fearing she would act on her earlier impulse to flee. Then he pressed another kiss against her swollen lips. An Infinitely gentle one that didn’t warm her body, but scorched her very soul.
A soft laugh spilled from her lips when noticed his cheeks looked as red as hers felt. Still, despite this moment of precious happiness they shared, there was fear within her. She couldn’t banish no matter how hard she tried to, resenting the shadow it cast over thi
s beautiful moment.
“I promise to do whatever is necessary Cass, just don’t let me be parted from you again.”
The little air she’d managed to fill her lungs with escaped when she was squeezed into his chest, her legs gone weak at the feel of stubble scraping gently along the curve of her neck when he murmured into her ear. “You’re mine, amata. Bound to me, mind, body and soul. Just as I am bound to you. I promise you, we will find a way to overturn our fates.”
“Together” Her fingers brushed along his nape, holding him until her erratic heartbeat again found a steady rhythm.
This girl. This life. This demon.
Finally.
“Come Sarrae sa, your throne awaits.”
Agate’s voice broke through the orchestra of whispers, her tone relieved, her smile one of triumph and contentment. And Mara found comfort in the knowledge that at least one other was able to share in their happiness. No matter how fleeting it might be.
Pressing a quick kiss upon the tip of his nose, she wiggled free from Cassius’s grip. He relented his grip only slightly, giving a quick nod towards their entourage. They flanked their king as she closed her hand over his much larger one, leading him away from the Hall, guiding him in those few final steps towards the seat of Asurim’s power.
The fates had been against them every step of their journey, but destiny would be theirs to decide, and his destiny would from this day on forever be bound to this realm, to this throne, to her.
They came to a stop before the seat, his arms guiding her to her rightful seat. Yet she resisted. Instead, she pulled him to her, moving him to stand before the throne of Asurim, for all to see. And without hesitation, placed her hands upon his shoulders, guiding him onto the Warlock throne.
She leaned over him as he sat, whispering in his ear, “Long live Sarrum shi.”
Despite the lack of protocol and coronation, she’d tried to make the gesture as a ceremonial as possible. He undid her efforts in a single moment; the wretched creature reaching up and pulling her across his lap as soon as his ass was firmly planted on the throne.
