“Because you don’t deserve redemption. Go ahead and claim the crown, rule your beast and fuck as many demon whores as you wish. But you don’t deserve your wings. You don’t deserve to find your true mate. And you most certainly don’t deserve to be a part of this family.”
It’s funny how your brain can embellish pain. A sword literally crafted to slay angels, slicing through my flesh, should have been the greatest agony I’d ever endured. But the thing that burned the most wasn’t the deadly blade covered in flames. It was the sting of Raziel’s tears as they fell onto the gaping wounds where my wings had been just moments ago.
Then, as they stood back and the whole court went silent as I lay face down in a pile of my own blood and shame, I was thankful when the ground opened up and swallowed me.
17
The Ninth Circle of Hell – Past
Fathers are supposed to love their sons. At least, that’s how my father designed all others to follow in his stead. But who says masters have to lead by example.
So condemn me for wanting a little bit of affection.
Banish me on the crime of curiosity.
As I plummeted hard and fast through the layers of hell, my flesh was in pure agony as flames consumed me. But it wasn’t the flames from the fall that burned the hottest. It was the hot ball of molten rage that was forming where my heart had been.
I’d been humiliated.
Shamed.
Betrayed.
Cast aside like nothing.
In that moment, I felt like I was nothing. And that pissed me off the most. I was Lucifer, the Son of God. No, I was the Sullied Son of God, with a hopeless mission. Because how could I, a broken celestial, become king and master of a realm that I knew fuck-all about? Maybe if I had my wings, I could overpower this devil king. But without my abilities and my true celestial strength, it would be iffy. It’s not like I could try the diplomatic method. Sure, I could be as charming as a silver-tongued serpent, but the demons here wouldn’t want an unwhole celestial as their king.
Even if I could gain the crown of this realm, find my way up through the nine layers while containing their chaos, would Eve even want me to marry her once I made my way out? The way she looked at me when I’d shown her my true form set a gnawing sensation to my gut that was intent on eating me from the inside out.
“She doesn’t want you. You were just a bit of fun. A better alternative to Adam. She isn’t our mate.”
“Shut up!”
My beast fell quiet, letting me simmer in my own self-hate and anger, which ate away at me like acid. I, too, retreated into my own darkness, becoming resigned and empty as I plummeted toward what would be any other man’s end and my new beginning.
A beginning I hadn’t asked for. I hadn’t asked for any of this.
Currently, my biggest drive to claim the crown and my mate was all so I could get my wings back so I’d have the power to kill Michael. It was thoughts of revenge that kept me warm as I slammed through a layer of thick ice and slipped into water so cold my spirit shivered.
Cold and wet, darkness swathed me. I was numb to the pain of it, even though my beast was basically screaming in pain at the back of my mind. But I couldn’t feel any of it. The only sensation was the searing agony between my shoulder blades and the barbed ball of contempt that sat at the pit of my stomach. For a sad moment, I contemplated staying where I fell. The frozen lake of the Ninth Circle would be a fitting tomb for the outcast Son of God. How fitting of a piece to the story. “Once he was God’s favorite,” they’d say. “Now, look where he rests. See how far he has fallen.”
“Drown in your pity later. There’s something down here with us.”
“Who cares? I need time to wallow. You should be more upset. You’ve just lost your ability to leave my mind.”
“This is pathetic. Is that what you want to be known as? The pathetic Son of God who was humiliated and then eaten by some random monster? Or do you want to rise from your ashes and become king? Take this realm by the balls. Claim our mate, and fuck her so hard that her screams will be Michael’s warning that we’re coming for him.”
My beast was an amazing negotiator. Moved by his conviction, I swam upward. I broke the surface of the lake like a creature of the deep awakening from a long season of hibernation.
I rose with a scream in my lungs and a taste for revenge that burned so great, the ice shards around me began to melt. I began to pull myself up onto the ice when my gaze locked with another’s.
For a heartbeat, the dark world around me stood still. On the shore of the lake stood a woman with pale skin the color of cream. Her hair was as black as the Ninth Layer’s own darkness, her body slight, with curvy hips and large breasts. She wore only a thin dress that did little to shield her from my curiosity. She held a basket and stood by a bush picking its flowers. Even from this distance, I could smell it. Nightshade.
A thousand questions sprouted, torturing me, for I had none of the answers.
Who was this beautiful maiden who picked poison like it was just another damn flower? If she was a demon shifter, why was she in her softer, fairer form? By her beauty, she could be a succubus, but there was no other life around to seduce. She watched me with wide, gray eyes. They were so beautiful and completely void of fear. Instead, they reflected all the wonder and curiosity gleaming in my own. I fell into them, drowning all over again.
My lips parted on a question. “What’s your name?” is what I wanted to ask. The single answer to that would bring me some calm, I think, as stupid as that was. But before I could push out the words, something grabbed my ankle and dragged me back down below the water’s surface.
