Natia’s head snaps to mine, and her eyes widen in mock innocence. “I didn’t move off the throne.”
I narrow my gaze and fold my arms. “Why is Zac almost sitting on your lap?”
They turn to each other and start babbling. “Well, Zacy said that his alcohol was stronger than mine. So I challenged him to swap bottles. But I wasn’t allowed to move from the throne. So Zacy came here.” She looks at him.
He shrugs. “Then it seemed like too much effort to sit down on the floor.”
Duncan and Zee watch on with amusement. Lucifer jumps up on the dais and taps the crown on Natia’s head. “And this?”
Natia sits up straight, feigning sobriety. “Um, so funny story, I couldn’t move from the throne—so we played truth or dare to pass the time.”
Zee rolls his eyes. “It says something when I am the mature person in the group.”
“Soooo,” Natia continues, “I dared Zacy to find the most expensive thing in this room and bring it to me.”
I eye the crown. A gold circle with large rubies. Lucifer snorts a laugh. “You’re wearing the Prince of Gluttony’s crown as costume jewelry?”
“No, we decided I needed a crown. Zacy says all the gods and goddesses have them. I don’t want to look like the idiot new god girl on the block.”
“Too late,” Duncan says under his breath.
She tips her head on Zac’s shoulder. He smirks and takes another swig of the alcohol. “Then we played the game of finding a song to fit the moment.”
Natia flashes a scowl in my direction. “I went with “Going to Hell” by The Pretty Reckless, but Zacy beat me.”
“What with?” Lucifer says as Natia lifts the bottle to her lips, frowns, and tips it upside down. Not one drop escapes. Her bottom lip sticks out in a pout.
“You should see me in a crown,” Zac says, smirking like it’s the wittiest thing he’s ever thought of.
I climb up the dais and kneel in front of her. Zac arches a brow and leans forward.
I push her hair off her face and graze my fingers on the crown. It shrinks, morphs into a half-crown with the addition of black opals—my stone set around hers.
“You deserve a crown which represents what you are,” I say.
She gazes at me with a longing that tugs at my blackened heart. “Which is?”
“My queen.”
17
Chapter Seventeen
Natia
Once you have truly screwed a Taurus over, there’s not a chance in Hell you’ll be forgiven.
Nausea hits me as the dais spins like a carousel. I blink to clear my cloudy vision, but the room continues to reel. A soft moan escapes my lips as I lean my head back against the throne.
“Fucking tequila,” Zac groans, leaning against me as we slide down a tube.
I pat his cheek, not trusting myself to speak without barfing all over the floor and ruining my new royal badass look. I touch the new crown on my head and smile to myself. His queen. His partner. His eternity.
“The hangover is about to make you his bitch,” Lucifer declares. I frown, about to ask what the hell he’s talking about given that I’m so drunk it will be at least several hours before I get any effects—then a rush of air blasts over my skin, and as it drops so does my buzz. I grab my temples. “There it is,” Lucifer says, “I’m sorry, Natia, the levels clear each time we move between them. Just like the lingering lust from the previous level.”
I glance up, finding we have stopped on the dais in the middle of a city. Skyscrapers tower over us in every direction, their gleaming windows highlighted by the lightning blasting across the red sky. Zac stands first and offers me his hand. “What happens in Hell, stays in Hell,” he reaffirms. I give him a firm nod and grab his hand, pulling myself up. I swipe my swords from the floor and jump off the dais to stand with the group.
Archan hands me a leather belt with a loop on each side. “They aren’t safe on your back with your wings,” he explains. I wrap the belt around me and slide the swords in; a perfect fit. “Thank you. What level are we in?”
