I entered the throne room with my heart in my throat, every step closer to the throne making my pulse race faster. The weight of hundreds of eager eyes on me made my skin crawl, but Belial was there, urging me on.
What a great way for my new subjects to see me: my human nerves acting up.
I lifted my chin, donned a confident smile, and marched down the aisle, my eyes locked straight ahead. I shoved all the doubt from my mind.
When I reached the end of the aisle, I paused in front of the River Styx, staring down at the bloody current for a long moment before turning to face the court. Everyone was staring, watching silently, picking me apart with their curious gazes, their attention making my skin itch.
Belial stepped into the river and offered me his hand. He helped me across the current and pulled me out on the other side, a splash of crimson coating the stone beneath my feet as it poured off my dress.
“Your throne,” he said, gesturing with his free hand to the enormous seat before me.
I looked up, my gaze lingering on each of the demon lord heads decorating the top of it. Brutal, bloody, and macabre as fuck, it was dark perfection.
A twist of rage and satisfaction swirled through me upon seeing them, each speared on a bone pike forevermore. I took comfort in knowing they would forever pay for their transgressions. Even in death, they would serve me as adornments on my throne.
Served them fucking right.
Fingers tingling and heart fluttering, I cautiously took a seat on the new throne. It was so silent in the hall that I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, anxiety burning its way through me.
The Lord of Bones tore his attention from me to look over his subjects, his burning glare dragging slowly through the room.
“You’ve been summoned to witness the crowning of Limbo’s very first—and last—queen,” his growly voice thundered through the hall.
He continued with his speech, his address to our subjects firm and absolute.
With a wave of his hand, he produced the crown of bones he’d fashioned from Mark’s spine. The image haunted my thoughts—not to mention, it looked uncomfortable as fuck. But since the last time I’d seen it, it seemed Belial had set some gems into it that glimmered a deep, bloody red in the light.
It was a gothic queen’s wet dream.
I met the Lord of Bones’ gaze, sitting up straighter on my throne as he moved to place the crown on my head. It fit perfectly, feeling much heavier than it actually was.
“She is your queen. Any act against her is an act against me and will be handled accordingly,” the Lord of Bones growled, a warning to anyone foolish enough to try anything stupid like his brothers had.
I blinked out over the crowd, the breath hitching in my chest when they began to kneel. I picked out Cecil and Holga standing in the back, and the sight of them had the tension in my chest ebbing some.
Starting with the front row, they dropped to their knees and bowed their heads in fealty, and the rest of the room soon followed. An invisible hand tugged at my heartstrings again, the same way it had in Asmodeus’ throne room when the souls bowed to me.
Every being in the hall knelt to honor their new queen, and I flashed a nervous glance in Belial’s direction. He tipped his head slowly, staying there for a beat before taking a seat on his own throne.
His enormous hands clutched the armrests, the blue flames roaring in his eye sockets as a twisted crown of bones appeared on his head. He was a vision of darkness and power, a cruel king who’d also shown more compassion than I thought him capable of.
Fuck, he was so goddamn sexy.
So sexy, and all fucking mine.
“Long live the Lord of Bones,” the crowd chanted together. “Long live the Queen of Carrion.”
We sat there for a moment that seemed to drag on forever. I had no idea what to do next, what was expected of me. Was I supposed to make a speech? Did they expect me to put on a show? Entertain them? Behead someone?
Skeptically, I cast another glance in Belial’s direction, and I heated when I found him looking back at me.
“What is your first decree?” he asked, stirring something primal in me. I wanted him to order away all these souls and have his way with me right here and now.
“Send them away.”
A dark chuckle escaped his maw, his black, forked tongue slipping out to paint a lick over his lipless mouth.
“Leave. All of you. Now,” he said abruptly, his voice booming in the silent room. It was so abrupt, so informal, but this was the Lord of Death we were talking about here. He was right. He could do whatever he damn well pleased.
