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He could tear me apart for another thousand years if it pleased him, but he wasn't getting four days with her.

“Wait!” I yelled.

Astaroth’s head snapped towards me, eyes glowing as he pushed his power into the deepest parts of my soul.

A guttural groan tore from me involuntarily.

“You have until you black out from the pain to speak.”

Asshole.

“Start the trials early,” I gasped. “I'll make them entertaining. She hates me. Thinks I rule the Hells. She has no memories of what came before.” I swallowed the groan clawing up my throat. “You want entertainment? Put us together and watch her try to fucking kill me.”

Interest flickered through his corpse-white eyes.

There you are, you twisted bastard.

“I'll force her to marry me. Make her fall in love with the one male she despises more than anyone.” I dragged a smile across my face despite the agony still chewing through my nerves. “And after she loves me with her whole heart, and we inevitably lose…” My vision darkened and I let out a wheeze-filled groan. “Throw us into the Nether and I'll torture her myself. It will break her more than your torture ever could. Your precious Hells will enjoy every fucking second of it.”

Anything to keep her from the Nether. Anything to keep him from realising that was precisely what I was doing. That I was lying.

“Please,” I all but begged as the last of my vision began to fade. “Give me this chance at my revenge.”

The pain receded, leaving nothing but cold echoes of where his invasive power had ripped through me.

I sighed in relief and pushed myself to my feet, trying not to show how weak I felt after the onslaught.

I needed my full fucking powers back.

“And if she doesn’t fall in love with you by the end of the trials?” Astaroth asked coldly.

“Then I will formally pledge my guilt for the atrocity I didn’t commit.” I forced the words past my teeth. “And the last of my divinity will be yours to take.”

The white hairs of his eyebrows rose in surprise before a delighted smile peeled across his face.

“You have a deal, Helion.” Relief flooded through me, the corners of my mouth turning up in a mask of pure dark amusement.

“But I will be taking the witch,” he drawled and curled his hand forward, two of his bone guards prowling forwards and gripping Cerilla’s arms.

She didn’t fight as they dragged her away, Astaroth watching with some twisted expression I had never seen on his face before. I blinked and it was gone.

“You will wed tonight before my court, and it will be a spectacle.” He gasped, delighted at his own idea. “I will make it the first trial.”

Chapter Four

Monsters Do Not Cry

Rythos

Darkness ripped through me in a cold erratic embrace, spitting me out in my chambers.

The heavy curtains were drawn, blocking the outside world from me. The kingdom I was likely going to fail.

The erratic shadows withered over my skin as I looked at my unmade bed, the pillow she had slept on, the place where she had cried out my name before curling against me like she belonged.

No matter where I looked, I saw the ghost of her.

She was the light guiding me out of the never-ending darkness of my soul, and without her I feared I would suffocate.