My vision was blurrywhen I opened my eyes, and I blinked furiously until it focused. Once again, I was in a place I didn’t recognize, but at least I wasn’t in the Lord of Greed’s domain.
The sweltering air no longer threatened to choke me with every inhale. It was faintly chilly here, but not unbearable like Asmodeus’ realm had been. The cool air licked at my skin, a welcome relief after being in the Forge.
A quick glance around the room told me I was in Belphegor’s realm. The place embodied the sin he lorded over: gluttony.
It was a large space that reminded me of an underground cavern, but unlike the previous realms that were dark and carved into regular stone, the walls here seemed to glitter. It lookedlike hundreds of crystals had been crushed and dusted over the stones to make them shine.
The room itself was spilling over with so many things, it was hard to focus on any one in particular. There were several sofas shoved against the walls, nearly buried beneath mountains of jewel-toned throw pillows. Several shades of dark fabric draped from the ceiling overhead, and an enormous circular bed occupied the center of the room. It was piled high with black blankets and multi-colored pillows.
Everything, no matter which direction I looked, seemed to shimmer or shine with excessive decadence. It seemed wildly befitting of Belphegor.
But there was too much fucking stuff. I was already feeling a little claustrophobic, like the objects filling the room were crushing in on me even though they didn’t move.
After the minute it took to digest my view, I realized I was upright, my hands manacled above my head on a black leather St. Andrew’s cross, the kind you’d find in a BDSM dungeon.
My immediate instinct was to tug at the chains, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. The shackles didn’t budge.
“Fuck.” My eyes swept over the room for any sign of the Lord of Gluttony.
To my relief, he was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean much. I half-expected one of the piles of pillows in the corner to shift and reveal him at any second. He could have been hiding anywhere, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
A muffled sound nearby made me jump, and I inhaled sharply. Heart thrumming in my chest, I craned my neck to see another cross, identical to mine, a few feet away. A slender, familiar-looking woman was splayed out across it, completely naked.
She was human, but her pale form was tinged blue and a little transparent. She was like a projection, though her body was still solid enough to be manacled in place.
My chest seized.
She was a soul.
Her eyes were closed, her head drooping to one side.
I studied her face and its familiar features, the ones I’d memorized from her painting in Belial’s castle. Her cheekbones, her thick black lashes, her pouty lips, her jet black hair—she was unmistakable.
Shock shot through my system, a shiver vibrating up my spine. It clicked who she was.
Catherine.
It was the soul of Belial’s first pet, the one who’d fought tooth and nail to get away from him—the woman whose tomb I’d robbed, sealing my fate as the Lord of Bones’ next mortal captive.
My mouth was dry as I watched her, warring emotions clashing within me.
“C-Catherine?” My voice was hoarse, but she stirred at the noise, her dark eyes blinking open to lock with mine.
For a moment, neither of us spoke, both drinking in our reality. The recognition in her eyes told me she knew exactly who I was, even though I’d never seen her face in person. She’d never seen mine either, as far as I knew, but I’d spoken to her through the dagger.
My heart clenched. Belphegor had obviously stolen her soul somehow when he and the other lords kidnapped me. He must have picked up Catherine’s dagger after they’d kidnapped me since I’d used it in a sad attempt to fend them all off. He must have extracted the soul from inside the blade.
“Are you alright?” I shouldn’t have asked. I shouldn’t have cared, but seeing her tied up, just as helpless as myself, pulled at my heartstrings. Concern wavered in her eyes before they darted around the room, probably making sure the coast was clear.
“I’m okay,” she said, though she didn’t sound so sure. Her gaze snapped back to mine again. “You should have killed yourself when you had the chance.”
Her words were shocking, but there was no malice in her voice. She truly meant it. The poor woman had tried so hard to get away from Belial, to escape from Hell. Even after her final suicide attempt, when he’d laid her body to rest, she’d never truly found peace, not while her soul remained in his realm.
She didn’t want that same fate for me.
Yet, here I was.
The only difference between our situations right now was that I’d given my soul to the same demon lord she fought so hard to flee.
