“What’s it going to be? Are you going to help me overthrow Lucifer, like I should have done a very long time ago, or are you going to rend your mate’s psyche in two?”
They were going to hurt me and make Lothar watch. They were going to force him to break since I wouldn’t. I jerked against my restraints.
Either option was unthinkable. If Lucifer lost his throne, ripples would be felt through every realm, the balance between Heaven and Hell would be lost, and everything would descend into chaos.
I met Lothar’s wild, panicked stare through the orb and tried to communicate how sorry I was. He opened his mouth on another silent roar. A hot tear streaked down my cheek. I wouldn’t survive this, but Lothar would. Lucifer would put him back together, I had to believe that. However broken he was after this, I knew Lucifer loved me and he loved Lothar, we were both his creations, and he wouldn’t let Lothar suffer.
Seraphina nodded to hog face when I kept my mouth clamped shut, still refusing to give her what she wanted, and the demon came forward, lifted my hand, slid my ring finger into his mouth and crunched down, tearing the next finger off as well. Lothar exploded with rage on the other side of the orb. Veins bulging, fangs extended, silently roaring as he slammed into the orb’s surface repeatedly, trying again and again to get to me.
“Time to get a little more creative,” Seraphina said, a chilling smile curving her perfect lips. “But first.” She handed Beelzebub a knife, one made by the gods—the same blade she’d used to slice open my side all those years ago, causing a wound that had almost killed me. I was in no doubt that her escape was the reason the wound had grown painful and raw again. “Let’s make sure those fingers don’t grow back.”
Beelzebub took the knife and pressed the flat side of the blade to the bloody stumps. I clenched my teeth, jerking as the Heaven-made weapon sent toxic power surging through my Hell-born body. The pain only made my hatred for them burn hotter. I smiled, still refusing to scream.
Sera’s fury rose. Good, maybe she’d be so furious, she’d burn herself out quicker.
When the torture began, I closed my eyes, so I couldn’t see Lothar and what this was doing to him.
If I saw how this hurt him, it would weaken me, and I needed to hold on, because despite the odds—I would not just give up and die.
Lothar
My knees hit the floor, blood dripping onto the tiles from my torn-up hands. Panting, I blinked back the red rage and took in the destroyed room. Smoke drifted around me. The walls were charred, the furniture nothing but ash. In this, the beast and I were in perfect harmony. We’d fought to escape this room, going as far as using my hellfire to try to burn this fucking room to the ground, anything to get to Roxy while they fucking tortured her relentlessly. Even after the orb vanished, I hadn’t stopped.
I had no idea how long ago that was. The rage and fear had been so overwhelming, I wasn’t sure when I last had a lucid thought or how I was managing it now, honestly. I had to think. It was the only way to help Roxy. The beast snarled and fought inside me now, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold it back.
Being forced to watch as Beelzebub beat and cut, and had that fucking demon from the swimming hole bite Roxy—and not be able to do anything to stop it, to help her—was more than my sanity could endure.
Yes, she was sweet and small and looked easy to break, but despite her size, Roxy was a fierce and brutal warrior. She was powerful, immensely strong, and loyal to a fault, which meant she could sustain immeasurable pain and torture and not give an inch. Nothing Beelzebub and the bitch with him did would make her crack. Nothing would get her to help them overthrow Lucifer. It would never happen. Roxy would die before she did that.
Which was why I was so fucking terrified.
What were they doing to her now? How much suffering would they make her endure?
With a roar, I ran at the door again, claws extended, and hacked at it, battered it with the full force of my body, but nothing I did would open it and nothing would smash the glass in the window.
I’d tried repeatedly to call for Lucifer, but he hadn’t come.
I picked up a chair and hurled it at the window, then charged it and was thrown back, tossed across the room again as soon as I reached it.
Roaring, I gripped the sides of my head.
How much longer could she survive?
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Roxy
* * *
Several days had passed since Sera took over my torture. She’d had B use my phone, pretending to be me, and text Lucifer to say there’s been a holdup, that I’d be hard to reach for a while, and that I’d be in contact soon.
Lucifer had to know something was wrong, though, and if he wanted to find me, or any of his handmaids, he could. He knew when we were in real trouble. Which meant there was a reason he wasn’t here now, a reason only he knew and one I had to trust in.
My muscles twitched and cramped from being in the same upright position, chained to this wooden rack for so long. And the wounds Sera had sliced into my flesh with some rusty old blade weren’t healing because she’d smeared some noxious slime into them, and they were beginning to fester, throbbing incessantly.
My thighs trembled, my body weakened to a point it never had been in my life, but at least I could feel my internal injuries starting to heal.
