Page 26 of Knotty Bargain (Monster Holidays #3)

CHAPTER 26

LEVIATHAN

I lounge upon my throne of obsidian, barely stifling a yawn as yet another demon drones on about some petty land dispute in the outer abyss. The Citadel’s vaulted ceilings stretch high above us, but even this monumental architecture can’t ease my boredom.

My prolonged absence has left an obnoxious mountain of trivialities to address. I tap my claws against the armrest, a staccato beat of impatience.

Fuck, I miss Cordelia.

Every little thing reminds me of her, but that must be because I’m so stupidly in love I can barely think of anything else. She takes my thoughts at all moments. All this time, I knew I’d have to leave her.

It still hurts like fuck. I’ve regretted it a hundred times over in the last two hours.

I see it now. There’s a reason I had never fallen in love. That’s because I hadn’t met her yet. And now, I’ll never see her again.

Fuck, I should have stayed. I should have asked, begged, and pleaded on my knees to stay. No one’s ever made me feel loved and understood like she did.

Without her, I’m just the king of hell. With her, I’m Levi.

A flutter of wings catches my eye. A raven flies into the hall, over the heads of the hundreds of demons waiting to see me, then alights on my shoulder. How unusual. It’s been years since I last received a messenger.

Leaning in, the raven whispers, “Cordelia. Hell.”

What. The. Fuck.

I shoot to my feet, an explosive roar tearing from my throat. The Citadel quakes as my fury manifests, blue flames erupting in the braziers. The demons in the hall scatter before me like roaches. The raven flies off, cawing.

“Cordelia is in Hell?” My snarl reverberates through the grand hall. “Is she dead?” I whirl around, searching for my assistant.

They bow low. “My lord, I’m not sure?—“

“Cordelia Dallimore. Is she dead?” Fucking hell, if she died... If she died when I could have saved her... My hands shake, my heart racing so fast I’m sure it’ll jump out of my rib cage.

“I’ll have to check,” says my assistant. “We don’t know her precise location. It may take some time to?—“

“Find her. NOW.” I turn around to my guards. “No one fucking touches a hair on her head until I see her. Understood?” I bark. The guards nod, bow, then rush out of the room.

My Cordelia, my sweet shining light, alone in this blasted hellscape? I picture her cornflower eyes wide with fear, her porcelain skin smudged with brimstone. She must be so scared.

Unacceptable.

I storm from the Citadel Palace, a tempest of wrath and despair. Hell itself will tremble before the devil’s rage at anyone who dares harm my mate.