The image changed again, and we were inside by a fire. Cecilia, one of the worshippers, was seated on the couch in a black dress with a slit so high it nearly reached her waist.
Callum sat on the other side of the couch, his arms on his knees, with his eyes on the fire.
Cecilia stared at the side of his face, watching the light dance in his eyes. “I can feel your sorrow better than these flames.”
His eyes flicked down. “The woman I love is up there fighting a battle on her own, and I’m down here…trapped.”
She continued to stare at him.
“I’m not sure if she’s even alive.”
“Does it even matter if you can never return to the mortal world?”
“Of course it does.” He stared at the fire again.
She scooted closer to him, her hand moving to his forearm, her long fingers stretching around his taut veins.
I felt enraged just watching her touch him.
“How much time has passed?”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t push her off, like he didn’t notice her touch at all.
“Let me take your sorrow.” Her hand moved to the side of his cheek before it dug into his hair.
He didn’t react to that either, like he’d been touched by her before.
She continued to run her fingers through his hair while he stared at the fire. “Let me comfort you.”
“I love her.”
Her fingers grabbed his chin, and she slowly forced his stare on her. “I don’t care, Callum. God or no god, I still want your power deep inside me.”
I remembered he’d said he would bed the women of the occult, mortal women who worshipped him as a god. So this story fit with his tale. At first, I thought it could have been from a different time and he referred to another woman whom he loved, but I was the one at war. My heart tightened in tension as I feared the end of his scene.
In silence, he stared at the fire but didn’t push her away like I expected him to.
So she took it a step further, crawled into his lap, and straddled his hips.
“Cecilia,” he said in slight annoyance. “No.”
She pushed him back against the couch, and her hands moved for his trousers, yanking the front down so she could reach for his dick. It must have been hard because she seemed to grope and stroke him under his pants.
I didn’t want to watch this anymore, didn’t want to see him with anyone but me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away. It was my worst nightmare, seeing Callum with someone else, and even if it meant nothing, I was still sick.
He started to breathe harder, his eyes closing as if he liked her touch.
Then she pushed her advantage, lifting up her dress as she straddled his hips further, guiding his length to her entrance and then sinking down.
He closed his eyes again in shame but moaned like he couldn’t help but enjoy it.
“Oh yes.” Her fingers dug into his hair as she rolled her hips and took his length over and over. “Wrath…”
I turned to Leviathan, refusing to stare at the horror a moment longer. “You made your point, asshole.”
The scene disappeared, and we were back in the kitchen. Callum had done something similar when he’d shown me the moment my father lost his family and then took back the kingdom against his enemies. So it was possible for the god of the underworld to show me the past, but I wasn’t stupid enough to immediately assume it wasn’t an attempt at treachery. “What do you want from me?”
“You sacrificed your soul for this man, and I just wanted you to know exactly who he is.”
