It was a far cry from the hardened monster I’d been a year ago. This version of me today would likely disgust that cold, hard creature. Or envy him. Either way, I didn’t give a fuck.
For the first time since I’d taken on the loathsome job as the Lord to Hell’s first layer, I was happy. All because of one peculiar human girl with a penchant for pain and an affinity for all things black and macabre. What a perfectly hellish duo we made.
The graveyard was separated from the rest of the maze by dead hedges that were taller than my antler's longest tine, a feat considering my height. Skeletal limbs, some with the skin still attached, reached for us from the branches as we passed through the gate and a decomposing head perched in the bushes opened his only eye; it looked as though beetles had eaten away most of the other one. “My Lord! Please take pity on this poor soul.”
I didn’t bother acknowledging the pathetic thing, didn’t even pause to listen to his plea. There were well over ten thousand souls on my castle grounds alone, awaiting their Judgement, yet I recognized the head’s face. He hadn’t been a good man in life. I never sent him down the Styx and I didn’t intend on it. Sometimes, the best punishment was making the worst souls wait for a moment that would never come while they faded to nothing.
“Oh, Belial. Won’t you help him?”
At my queen’s behest, I stopped in my tracks.
“Yes! Help me! My Queen!” Apparently, the head had more of his body still attached, embedded in the hedges. A decaying arm, crawling with maggots, reached for her.
Rage possessed me the moment this wretch’s fingers brushed the hem of my mate’s dress. Before he could get any closer, I muttered a spell in the Old tongue beneath my breath—to Rayven, it would sound like a guttural growl. The soul's eye widened as he felt my magical influence, and like an invisible fist clenching all around him, he exploded in a fine mist of rotten flesh and rancid blood.
I pivoted so that my back was to the hedge, shielding Rayven from the gore with my body.
Her eyes lifted to mine, her pale cheeks tinted with the faintest hint of pink. She looked so stunning, even in a state of shock. The ash floating down from Limbo's hazy crimson sky peppered her onyx hair, looking every bit like the snow from her home realm she loved so much.
"There. I shattered his soul. He's at peace now." Peace wasn't exactly the right word. I'd extinguished the soul from existence. He was nothing but bits of blood and flesh on my cloak now. Plus, I'd ceased his insufferable moaning. The graveyard was quiet now. Nothing dared move, not the spirits that haunted these grounds or even the wriggling maggots that feasted on the odd body parts scattered through the hedges.
“I'm not sure if that's what I meant," she muttered as her eyes lifted to my antlers. I was sure they were flecked with bits of blood. At least the color was festive.
"He touched you,” I pointed out, my voice sharp. “Nothing in this realm, or the ones above or below it, touch my queen without my explicit fucking permission, Rayven. Nothing."
Despite the fact that my back was covered in viscera, my dick was still rigid, eager to be sheathed in her tight cunt. Knowing that many of the lost souls and hellish creatures that called my castle grounds home would be lurking in the crooks and crannies of the graveyard, watching me pleasure what was mine and mine alone, had more of my blood rushing south.
They all craved what she had. Her beating heart, her perfect skin, and above all else, my favor.
“You’re a monster.” Her whisper came out as fragile as the ash in her air, but there was no trace of resentment in her voice. She was simply stating a fact, one I couldn’t deny.
Sometimes, Rayven’s humanity was shown through her deep sense of justice, like taking pity on even the most disturbed souls in my charge. I loved her for it. But I wouldn’t show kindness to anyone or anything that so much as breathed the same air as her, if I felt for a moment they might try to take advantage of her.
“I’myourmonster.”
Another tiny breath hitched in her chest, and I could literally hear her heart skip a beat. "Am I a bad person for being turned on right now?"
I laughed. "No. I've seen countless corrupted souls, my treasure. You're far from bad. But even if you were, who cares? This is Hell. So you're right where you're supposed to be."
Her plush lips pursed into the prettiest of smiles. "Alright, Lord of Bones. I think I'll take that reward now."
The ash had been falling long enough now that a thin blanket of it covered everything. Admittedly, it looked more wintery than I'd expected it too, even with the way the pale blanket reflected the ominous red glow of Limbo's semi-shrouded sun.
I gently lowered Rayven to her feet and she spun around to take in the graveyard. "It's so beautiful."
The last time she'd been here, she'd been frightened. Turned on, but still frightened as she was unsure of her fate. Death lurked around every corner and, at that point, she hadn't been interested in an eternity with me.
Now there was no trace of fear. Only wanton desire shone bright in her enchanting eyes as she turned to pin me with a mischievous smirk tucked at the corner of her mouth that silently asked,"What now?"
Instead of giving her an answer, I left her in suspense as I paced between the graves in search of the perfect one. I stopped at an above ground grave, a stone sarcophagus that was perfectly flat on top. I couldn't remember which of my loyal servants I'd laid to rest here; it was so long ago that the etching in the stone had faded.
I shrugged off my cloak, feeling Rayven’s eyes hot on my chest as her arousal perfumed the air. I’d chosen a lantern sleeve tunic for the occasion, with a plunging neckline that stretched down to my abs where a sash was tied tightly. It left my pectorals and much of my scarred stomach on display.
Since I was in my lesser form, appearing as I did when I was human—minus the antlers—I was still self-conscious of the scars covering the majority of my body. Rayven was helping me feel more secure in my own skin, so I was not only leaving my face bare, but donning more clothes that put her favorite features of mine on display.
Bundling my cloak in my hand, I used it to wipe the sarcophagus lid clean of ash and pointed at it. “Lie down.”
She knew what I intended to do with her there. Her pussy was already soaking wet; I could smell it. “My Lord, surely you don’t mean to take your queen on the remains of a loyal servant? Isn’t that disrespectful?”
