1
Melisande
“Are you happy, Lady Wrath?”
His hiss carried just far enough to reach my ears. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get out a single word, Belial strode down the bone steps of his dais and held out a hand, like a gentleman offering to escort me.
His smile was so hard, with all the brittleness of a diamond. “Your freedom. It’s yours. Here, let me show you out. I wouldn’t want you to waste another moment of your life in my presence.”
The backs of my eyes burned with unshed tears. “Belial…”
“Come now,” he said, crooking his fingers. “You wanted it so badly, let’s see what you make of it.”
I felt like I was floating outside my body as I rose to my feet, sending several dark feathers spiraling into the stands below. Like a dream, I descended the steps and took his hand, instinctively memorizing the warmth of his skin and the rough calluses like I would never feel them again.
I shoved that thought away forcibly. I would have him once I’d said my piece. Once I made it clear that this wasn’t to get away from him, but to finally stand as a free equal next to him.
He pulled me across the arena into the hall leading to his quarters. For a brief second, I choked on a sigh of relief- we would be somewhere private, where I could explain.
I hadn’t stolen to hurt him, I wasn’t rejecting him- I just couldn’t live my life under a yoke not of my own choosing.
“Belial, I didn’t do this to get away from you-”
He held a finger to his lips, that cruel smile still pasted on them. The rage glittering in his eyes would’ve shut me up if that single terse gesture hadn’t.
The doors opened, but not on his chambers. The Prince of Wrath pulled me into the twilight gloaming of his stable yard, where Capheira’s bright flickers filled the air like summer lightning.
Realization hit hard, with all the finesse of a freight train.
He really did mean to kick me out.
I’d won my freedom, but unlike his other warriors, my conniving and thieving had made me persona non grata in his half of the Seventh Circle.
“Please, Belial, I don’t… I didn’t do this with the intention of leaving,” I said, unable to keep the strain of desperation from my voice as I tugged against him. He kept my wrist firmly clasped in his powerful grip.
Belial gestured to the imps as Azazel materialized in the courtyard in a flurry of smoke. “Belial, think of what you’re doing,” he warned, his violet gaze glacially cold.
“This is no business of yours.”
Belial’s voice was rough and strained, his free hand clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
To my surprise, Azazel just shook his head, casting me an unreadable look. “We’ll be waiting for you, Melisande. Lucifer will… he intends to ensure your path home is clear.”
Everything felt like it was happening from a thousand miles away and I was a ghostly observer.
This couldn’t be real. The Brightside of the Seventh Circle was my home.
He couldn’t make me go.
Azazel’s lips tightened as he looked me over, but he gave one last warning look at Belial and vanished.
My chained followers were streaming into the stable yard as well, silently flowing from around the side of the arena.
“You’ll be safe enough,” Belial said, unable to sound careless through gritted teeth. “You’ve got the Watcher-prick and the Morningstar.”
“That’s unfair,” I whispered around a tongue that felt thick. Pain radiated from my newly-empty palm, up through my arm and shoulder, nestling in my chest like a nest of writhing snakes. It was hard to breathe around the ache. “I don’t want to leave.”
“No?” Belial’s lips were white at the edges. “You bet on half of my Circle for the fucking fun of it, is that it?”
The imps led Capheira into the twilight, saddled with the custom tack. He picked me up and put me on her back but jerked away the moment I was settled, like his hands had been burned by the mere contact.
I stared down at him, my vision finally blurring with the tears I’d been unable to hold back, and he briefly touched his chest with a grimace.
In the same place where I felt an aching void.
When he saw me looking, he pulled his hand away, his face taking on a hard cast.
“Is wanting to keep me in a cage any better than what I did?” I asked, a thin sliver of anger cutting through the pain and exhaustion. I couldn’t help but rub my own hand, my breath shortening with every spike of pain. “I can remain here as a free angel!”
Belial’s nostrils flared and he leaned in close. It was so tempting to reach out and touch him, but his rage was shimmering off him like a heatwave. “Did I ever keep you in a cage?”
His voice was almost unintelligible, thick with pure fury.
“Did I ever treat you poorly? Did I chain you? Shackle you? Starve you?”
I said nothing, every defense I could’ve thought of completely deserting me. My throat tightened around a knot, swelling painfully as I shook my head.
“Maybe you should’ve had a little more faith in me,” Belial said. His hair was becoming gold, his form trembling. “Now go.”
“And if I won’t?” My tears broke free, sliding down my cheeks.
“GO!”
His roar crashed us over like thunder. I cringed, my eardrums aching, and Capheira broke into a gallop, fleeing the bone-trembling force of Belial’s wrath. The ground beneath us was trembling like an earthquake, growing worse by the second.
I gripped her reins for dear life as lightning sparked under her hooves, looking back over my shoulder to see the flaming tail of a lion whip around the side of the arena and vanish.
“Stop,” I gasped, but Capheira kept running, and another earth-shattering roar rumbled down the tiers of the Circles.
A dark shape lunged in from the streets, grabbing Capheira’s reins and pulling her to a halt. I gripped the saddle as she reared, kicking out with sharp hooves, but the cloaked demon held her fast until she hit the ground on all fours again.
I swiped my sleeves across my eyes, wiping away tears. The dim fires in the abyss of Dis were growing brighter, throwing off flares like a storm-
A dark shape swooped overhead, plunging past the Circles into the Pit.
Lucifer.
He rocketed downwards, vanishing into that cold fire as my followers surrounded me.
“My Lady.” One of them touched my leg, the barest sensation that called my attention. I looked down, blinking gritty eyes, but it was impossible to see past the dark depths of that hood. “The Dragon stirs. We must leave and find shelter.”
I nodded, but I had no idea where to go.
Belial was home.
The demon didn’t wait for orders, though. He held Capheira’s reins and led her down the street, the demons forming a neat phalanx around us.
I almost choked on hysterical laughter, swallowing it down past the painful lump in my throat.
I didn’t have my prince, but I did have demons who looked ready to murder any living thing that stood in my way. I supposed that was one small comfort.
I lost track of time completely until we reached the demarcation of the Brightside into the Nightside, and Capheira tossed her head in pleasure as we entered perma-twilight. I stroked her mane as the demons led us on the route Belial had once taken me. At least one of us was happy.