I knew the time had come, but still, I wasn’t ready. I didn't know if I would ever be ready.
“Don’t be nervous,” he urged me. “You were made for this. You were made forme. Come. I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I cocked an eyebrow at him, and his smirk broke into a grin.
“Yes.”
He offered me his arm, and I took it, letting him guide me toward the corridor. “Such a gentleman,” I mused. “What, no collar? No leash to lead your slave queen to her coronation?”
I was joking, but my smile slipped, and a blush flamed my cheeks at the wolfish look he shot me. “Those things aren’t required anymore, not now that I don’t have to worry about youwandering into danger again. Though, we can still bring them out for playtime later…”
The mention of playtime, paired with his honied baritone, had the spot between my thighs heating and arousal soaking my panties.
He gave a sinister smile, knowing exactly what he was doing to me.
Holga moved silently to fall in line behind us. As my official handmaid, she spent most of her time making sure I was taken care of—but Belial shook his head.
“Holga, would you meet us in the throne room?”
Her fleshless face was emotionless, but I could have sworn I noticed a shift in her energy. Was I finally figuring out how to read the skeletal witch? Or was the sleep deprivation finally catching up to me?
“Of course, My Lord.” She nodded her head and swept past us, disappearing down the long corridor alone. My guess was that Cecil would catch up with her after he finished his duties in the library.
Since we’d gotten back from the lower layers, those two were inseparable. They’d hated each other at the start, just like Belial and me. Turns out, the only reason they didn’t get along was because Holga didn’t like the Lord while Cecil had an undying loyalty for him. Now that her opinion of him had changed, they saw eye to eye. Well, as well as people without eyes could see.
“What’s the surprise?” I asked as we took off in the opposite direction. My crimson gown swayed with my steps, the jewels glinting in the torchlight.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now, would it?” A sly smirk curled his lips. “Besides, it would be much easier to show you.”
We walked through the halls, and a hint of familiarity tugged at my chest. This castle had gone from feeling like a prison whenI first arrived to a place I belonged, a place that felt more like home than anywhere I’d ever lived.
I could spend a hundred lifetimes in this stunning castle and never get bored. I might get lost a time or ten, but I wouldn’t trade it, especially after seeing what the rest of Hell had to offer.
My Hell, I reminded myself.
Belial was adamant about me taking over the other eight realms, though I’d hardly decided how to handle them or what to do. It was all so much, too much for me to process or think about. All I wanted right now was to get through my coronation. I’d never liked crowds and would be eager for the guests to leave the moment that crown hit my head.
We rounded a corner, and Belial stopped abruptly. I followed suit, eyeing him until he gestured to a giant empty patch of wall.
“Here you go,” he said, a proud gleam in his eye.
There was nothing special about the wall at first glance, just a boring stretch of wallpaper that had seen better days. I stared at it for a moment, like a hidden message would pop out at any second. I finally noticed where the wallpaper changed color in a perfect square, fading to an even more unexciting shade of gray. There was a small table topped with a frog-shaped teapot and a candlestick.
My heart skipped a nervous beat.
“I had the painting of Catherine removed,” he said, gesturing to the empty space. “And I’ve commissioned another to be made in its place.”
“Belial, I—”
“You don’t have to say anything. You can even scold me for not getting rid of it sooner,” he assured me. “I don’t want you thinking another woman—alive or dead—could ever hold a candle to you. No level of intense infatuation could ever rival the obsession, the love I have for you, little treasure. Do you understand?”
I was speechless. The Lord of Limbo was obsessed with me, there was no denying that, but the way he spoke made the words sink down to my marrow.
“Whatever you want, name it, and it will be yours,” he said. There was that panty-obliterating smirk grin again. “I’ll fulfill every fantasy, every desire, every dark wish your mind can conjure. You know I’ll go to the ends of the Nine Hells to grant it.”
My answer came without hesitation. “I want you. That’s all I need.”
He dragged me into his arms swiftly, his lips crashing against mine and his tongue sweeping eagerly into my mouth. I sighed against his scarred flesh, savoring his scent—strawberries, with that slight hint of pine, like a freshly cut casket. “Keep it up, and we’ll be late for the coronation,” I hummed between kisses.
