The brush of lips against my wrist roused me. My eyes snapped open, taking in the vaulted onyx ceilings and the agonized faces that seemed to be carved into the stone itself.
I jerked my hand away from the thing that kissed it, my chest rising and falling faster and faster as I became more aware of my surroundings. I pushed myself into a sitting position, noticing absently that I’d woken up in the bed I’d dreaded so much only days ago. Now betrayal overrode fear.
The devil watched me, his face passive. He’d been bent on his knee next to the bed when I woke up. He stood.
“You said you’d never hurt me.” My voice broke as I spoke.
He winced, and the sight of it infuriated me.
“Don’t pretend you feel something,” I snapped.
I needed off this bed. I needed to pace.
“Oh, but I do,” he said, those strange eyes of his taking me in. “For the first time in a long time, I do feel.”
“Your demons held me down and cut me over and over again.” My voice broke. “I know you were the one that ordered it.”
“I did what I had to do for us both.”
There. He admitted it—and savaged my heart while he was at it.
“You did it to punish me,” I clarified. I knew enough about him to know that he’d punish me for betraying him like I had over the last few days.
“No,” he said obstinately.
I would’ve been surprised had I actually believed him.
He grabbed my shoulders. “I am telling the truth.”
I pushed his hands away, turning my face from him. I couldn’t stand to look into those eyes.
He grasped my face and rotated it so that I was forced to gaze at him. “I did it for us, and I would do it a thousand times over.” Wrath clouded his features.
A thousand times over.
I barely survived it once.
I needed to get away from this monster. I scrambled off the far side of the bed. He stood as I rounded it, seeking to cut me off. The doorway out was on the other side of him.
I ignored his presence as I made a beeline for the exit. My body was too small to contain all the anger, all the pain, all the terror that coursed beneath my skin.
The devil didn’t like me ignoring him. He caught my arm and spun me around.
“Let me go.” I pushed at his hands.
“Listen to me.”
“Let me go!” Now I struggled in earnest.
“You will not be mad at me.”
“Fuck you. I’m not mad at you—I hate you.”
Our connection throbbed, weeped. We were wrapped up in each other, our destructive natures circling one another.
“No,” he said, grabbing my upper arms and squeezing them.
I pushed against him. “Yes,” I hissed. “I hate you so much it’s hard to breathe.”
His face was the epitome of anger. His eyes traveled over my features, his upper lip curling. Then he reeled me in and he pressed a kiss against my lips.
I pushed against him, fought as his mouth pried mine open. And then I tasted him, the brimstone and ash and blood. The taste of endless death and pain. My power flared, and I slammed it into him. He stumbled back, but once he regained his footing, he moved into my space again.
“How dare—”
I slapped him, putting the full brunt of my strength behind it. His head whipped to the side, and he froze in that position.
My breaths came in angry heaves, and I didn’t care. I was done being used, done bending to an unbending man. Done with this.
He touched his cheek. “You hit me.” His face twitched like it couldn’t decide what expression to wear.
I did, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit that it felt good. I’d be high-fiving angels right now if I could.
Suddenly, the devil whirled on me. He grabbed my neck and swiped my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, and the devil came down with me. All I could sense from him was his barely contained nature. All that evil pressing down, peering at me through humanoid eyes.
I so did not sign up for this shit.
His face hovered right over mine, and the fingers around my throat dug in.
“Do it,” I wheezed. “Hurt me worse than your demons did. Give me another reason to hate you.” It was so much easier to ignore our terrible connection this way.
He released my neck and slammed his fist into the floor. “Bloody fucking hell! I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes flashing.
My breath caught in my throat. He’d never apologized before.
“You think I’m happy about this? That the key to my power lies in another? That I must be made vulnerable to her—to you? I’ve guarded myself against this for so very long, but the enemy still found a way in, and I welcomed Him with open arms.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Our connection.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.
“What doesn’t it have to do?” He stroked my cheek as though he couldn’t help himself.