Page 93 of Of Monsters and Mazes

I closed my lips around his finger on nothing but mechanical reaction. I closed my eyes, sucked, and swallowed. He withdrew once he was satisfied that I’d taken in that part of him.

My mouth was filled with nothing but the flavor of vanilla and iron as Jericho placed one last tender and lingering kiss upon my lips.

I should have been dead. Even with Rai’s magic, I didn’t know how I was still concious, my chest still aching from the violent intrusion. Yet, somehow, I was still on my feet. Under my own power, I was standing tall before the King of Devils, even if I was stunned to silence.

Heat spread around the crown of my head, intensifying to a searing burn.

With another snap of his fingers, a projection appeared on the wall behind him. One that showed my face as I stared up at him in wonder, horror, confusion, and fear. An ornate tattoo of vines and flowers rounded my forehead, and a single emerald rested at the center.

“The only thing you’ve lost is a sad life of being underappreciated and under loved.” The projection showed the start of a horn on each side of my head. The bones grew and turned on themselves, twisting into the sharp coil of a ram’s horns. Jericho placed a hand on each of my shoulders, and he held me at arm’s length to admire his work. “And in its place, you’ve gained a power and reverence beyond compare.”

I just stared ahead in shocked confusion, as I lost whatever was left of who I used to be.

As I was reborn, magnificently, as something so much stronger.

“Welcome to your new home, Sela, Queen of Devils. Welcome to a world where you have always belonged.”

Epilogue

I stood over the balcony of our castle, enjoying the warm rays of the Tartarus sun on my face. The world of devils was unexpectedly peaceful on a normal day, and the more I’d learned about its people, the villages, the laws—or complete lack thereof—and the culture, the more I was starting to love it here. Jericho, despite his depravity, was somehow a good ruler. Tartarus was truly a meritocracy, where the hardest working and most talented made it to the top, while the lesser devils seemed content in their place in the status quo.

I’d always wished the corporate world had worked that way, but now my whole life was dependent purely and only on my own abilities and perseverance, and that suited me just fine.

Pumpkin jumped up on the railing and approached me on perfectly balanced steps. He looked over the land and rubbed his face on my forearm, grazing Theron’s marks in the process. With the softest mew, he jumped from the balcony railing and spread his claws, catching a soft carpeted platform that extended up from the Labyrinth. He started hopping down platforms of the towering cat tree one at a time, down into the giant maze below.

Rai had never restored the original magic signatures of the Labyrinth, instead choosing to heavily redesigned the maze after my tribute trial. He’d set up every twist and turn to make a brilliant playground for my fuzzy little fluffle bug, and Rai, Alessi, and Pumpkin could often be spotted playing in between the walls.

“You rang?” The soothing voice of the Dream Weaver called from behind me. Theron approached the rail and stood by my side. He rested his hand on the marks on my forearm, and he stroked the possessive design he’d left permanently on my body with his thumb.

“Pumpkin did, but I would never complain about a visit from the Dream Weaver.” I placed my hand on top his and patted his knuckles. “So I’ve been here almost a year now. The next Tribute Game should be coming up soon, shouldn’t it?” My gaze climbed to the thick forest, then the cliff that I’d once stood upon. It seemed like an eternity and another life time ago that I’d entered this strange world for the first time.

Theron chuckled. “Are you nervous or excited at the prospect of experiencing your first game as a devil? Feeling a little vindictive there, Butterfly? Want to know what it feels like to torture people while you’re playing for the winning team?”

“Winning team.” I made sure to be visibly offended. This fucking guy. “You guys all cheated. I maintain that I technically won.”

Theron leaned in close and pressed a kiss to my left horn. “We all won, really.”

My cheeks flushed, and I hastily looked away. Theron being cute and romantic never failed to get to me in the best ways. I was still getting used to being a devil, but I had to admit, there were a lot more perks than there were pitfalls. Immortality, inhuman strength, eternal youth—such a curse! “That still doesn’t answer my question. Is this next game going to be just like mine? I’m not sure I’m ready to share you guys. I don’t know that I’ll ever be.”

Theron snorted. “If it helps, usually we just brutally murder the tribute. We only fuck the special ones.”

I frowned, not feeling any better about that. Literally no part of it at all. “What if Jericho picks a ‘special one,’ though?”

The platinum haired devil sighed before he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“No idea about what?” I was being a bit pouty for an all-powerful Devil Queen, I’d admit.

“That you are the last tribute who will ever be invited to Tartarus.” Jericho’s hot breath tickled my right ear, and I jumped in Theron’s grip. The King himself had portalled to my side, and I would never, ever get used to that ability. “I played those games to spite my ex. I don’t give a flying fuck about that woman anymore now that I have a far superior queen. No reason to perpetuate entertainment that was growing stale anyway.”

Theron released my shoulder, and Jericho pulled me over to his side instead.

I exhaled, feeling relieved, albeit weirdly disappointed at the same time. “Is it fucked up that I was kind of hoping I’d get the chance pick a few ‘tributes’ to torture in the maze though? I have a few choice people I wouldn’t mind watching grovel.” I was joking…ish.

“You are a Devil after my own heart, Sela.” Jericho stroked the ram horns on my head affectionately. “Quite literally, considering calling out your inner devil manifested horns just like mine. Is that coincidence or destiny?”

“Coincidence.” Theron interrupted with a pronounced eye roll. “You already have a Fated Devil. Don’t think you get two just because her horns curled a little bit.”

“Your jealousy is unbecoming.” Jericho chuckled, and I realized I loved that sound. I loved hearing all of them happy, as much as I loved hearing Theron’s dry sarcasm between is accidental moments of sweetness, or Alessi’s commanding bark, or Rai’s quiet confessions and moments of vulnerability, or Jericho’s playful viciousness.