TWENTY-NINE
Déjà vu hit Lila the second they’d appeared in this throne room. Had she seen this place in a dream? How could she have? She’d never been here before.
Shaking off that odd sense, she focused on getting through this wedding. Her wedding.
She had yearned for control over her life—yet she was about to have less of it than ever before. She would be under the thumb of a dominant demon.
Who was an enemy.
She doubted an immortal as old as Abyssian held modern marriage views. Talk about a male set in his ways.
But she’d secured a measure of protection for her people. She needed to take comfort in that.
She wondered what Saetth would do when he found out she’d married Abyssian. Nïx would no doubt tell him—especially if they’d been in league for that portion of the plot. . . .
Abyssian began his vows. In his deep, accented voice, he promised to treasure and protect her.
She tensed when a marble throne started to materialize on the dais beside his. Was the castle providing it for her?
Once the demon concluded, he gave her hand a squeeze.
Oh. My turn.
She delicately cleared her throat and recited her vows. As she finished—“This I promise until the end of time”—her throne appeared fully.
Engravings marked the back of it. She skimmed some of the Demonish words: Mistress of this castle, lady of flames, dark queen of this land.
Fate had always wanted her to be a queen.
Memories of hard-won political lessons from her childhood surfaced. Here she would be hated by a united populace—just because of her species. She’d probably have more than Rune to worry about.
“I’m to kiss you now,” Abyssian said, leaning down.
She averted her face.
He didn’t complain, just pulled her against his body and grazed his lips over her cheek.
There. They’d done it.
Her ears twitched when hounds howled from the brush. Lightning flared outside, and volcanoes rumbled.
The dimension seemed to go askew. Her skin grew even more hypersensitive; chills raced over it.
In those lightning bursts, Abyssian’s features appeared more demonic. Something was happening here—much more than a wedding.
Yet he didn’t behave as if anything was different.
Lila sensed that hell was happy about the marriage. She felt as if this realm was . . . welcoming her.
Crazy, right?
She’d been so busy concentrating on her new groom that she hadn’t given much thought to the other aspects of this union. She would be making her home in a land that was as fierce as it was mystical.
For an eternity of eternities.
He drew back. “You are now Queen Calliope the first, of Pandemonia and All Hells.” Thunder boomed, and the castle quaked.
Too much to process. I turned immortal. I got off with a demon. Did I really just get hitched to a Møriør? How could someone like me be the queen of hell? Don’t have anyone I can talk to about this.
Unlike Persephone, Lila would live in hell permanently. Which meant she needed to figure this realm—and her new husband—the fuck out.
Fast.
He traced them back to his bedroom. What would happen now? He waved his hand, and that familiar gold band appeared between two of his fingers. “I want you to wear this. I exchanged the confinement spell for contraception.”
“Whatever.” She snatched the ring and shoved it on. With that consideration taken care of, would he just toss her on the bed and do it? A shiver of dread coursed up her spine. “Now what?”
“You and I will take a bath.”
“I figure I can stumble my way through one on my own.”
“Alas, I cannot,” he said with a smirk she longed to slap off his face. “In this realm, a wife is expected to wash her husband.”
He took her elbow and guided her down a hallway toward a golden door that opened automatically for them.
Inside, steam wafted from a full copper bathtub the size of a small pool. Positioned atop a raised stone platform, the tub had submerged benches. Hell’s hot tub. A few glass containers of bath oils and salts lined the dais.
A large modern shower took up the opposite side of the room. Lava flowed down one wall like an indoor water feature, heating the area and providing light. A stack of towels was at the ready, and an elegant silk robe hung beside the tub.
The demon stood before her and stroked the backs of his claws over her cheek. “You may undress now.”
Sian enjoyed watching her choke back a thousand retorts. Nettling his mate was becoming his favorite pastime.
Her behavior had fascinated him from the beginning, and now he would get to investigate new facets of her. Sooner or later her demonic temper would overwhelm her, but how much could he vex her until then?
She stepped back. “Though I thought I would be a wife, you’re ordering me around like a slave.” Looking as if she faced a firing squad, she started to unlace her bodice.
She was cooperating? He’d expected her to tell him again to get fucked. Then they would bicker. Then he would toss her in the tub.
Instead, she was about to remove her dress for him. She must love her kingdom very, very much.
Some strange emotion churned in his chest. Guilt? He so rarely felt it he couldn’t be sure.
Perhaps he could have finessed this situation more. His female was young, and she’d only get one wedding night. Yet she would have no flowers, finery, or well-wishers—just a demon she hated ordering her to strip.
Over this night, he’d been in conflict.
Whenever he softened toward her, he would remember their past.
Whenever he was harsh with her, he would grow uneasy about their future.
Eyes gone teal with fury, she said, “I guess I should expect commands since you pretty much bought me. But I want you to know that if the stakes weren’t so high, if you and your alliance of monsters weren’t about to murder my kind, I would never screw you, not in a million years.”
He ground his teeth. Maybe he didn’t want her to tell him her thoughts.
Like the concubines, Calliope would lie with him only out of duty. “Just for that, I vow I won’t fuck you until you ask me to.”
Instead of snapping a reply, she tilted her head. “So I’ll have some control over the first time I have sex?”
He exhaled. “You call me a monster, but at least in that, you won’t find me so.”
She held her dress against her chest, hesitating to bare her breasts. He doubted the virgin had been naked with a fey male before, much less a demon enemy. She would need encouragement. He could give a little to get. “Delight me, Lila. Show me your stunning body.”
Chin raised, she let the material fall to her waist.
He hissed in a breath. Her flawless breasts were upthrusting and pale, with rose-pink nipples and raised areolas. They swelled right before his rapt gaze, beckoning his mouth.
In Demonish, he rasped, “Exquisite.” Less than an hour ago, he’d come harder than ever before, yet his cock grew painfully stiff.
Her breaths had shallowed, those breasts rising and falling.
The realities of his situation hit him. His mate was stripping for him. She was immortal. She would be his for all time. In a barely recognizable voice, he said, “You are so godsdamned lovely. I must see more.”
She let the dress drop the rest of the way to the floor.
The sight left him unsteady on his feet. He’d known her figure was willowy, with graceful curves—that tiny waist flaring to the softness of her hips. He’d known her legs were shapely. He’d briefly seen the sandy-brown curls on her mons.
But altogether, her naked body rendered him thunderstruck.
Abyssian Infernas had waited ten thousand two hundred and thirty-four years, three months, and seventeen days for his female to return to him.
He met her gaze. “You were worth the wait.”