Page 16 of Queen of the Wicked (Afterlife #1)
Erebos
E rebos needed to clear his head.
From Alessia's reaction at dinner to the images of them he had sent her… It was an effort not to haul her to him and take her right on top of the dining room table.
He got away from her as fast as he could and returned to his chambers to find Catalina waiting on his bedspread.
Ambroz had more than likely given her permission; it wasn’t like Erebos had ever said no to her before until recently, but now…
Now she wasn’t what he wanted, what he needed.
If he slept with her, it still wouldn’t be enough. He’d be left feeling unsatisfied.
“Everything okay?” she asked, running her fingers down the tiny silk nightgown draped across her body.
She relaxed back on her elbows, cocking her head to the side.
Thankfully, Catalina had left before she saw Alessia’s eyes turn crimson.
It was a tell of immense power, and if Catalina suspected Alessia had stolen his, he didn’t fully trust her to keep the information to herself.
“I’m fine. What was the pressing issue you had to speak to me about?
” He leaned against the doorway, urging his cock to calm the fuck down already, but it had no intentions of doing so.
He’d been hard since he left the dining room, unable to stop replaying Alessia’s alluring little gasp when she caught a glimpse of what he had envisioned doing to her from the moment he saw her.
“Right.” Catalina cleared her throat and pushed herself into a sitting position. “I had a meeting with a client of mine yesterday. Someone in Heaven.”
Erebos scoffed. Catalina had been freed five years ago but chose to remain in Hell to please others, Erebos in particular. She found pleasure in doing so, and while Erebos would never require her to perform those services, she found enjoyment in them, so he allowed it.
With all the lost souls disappearing from Hell, it wasn’t surprising that someone from Heaven requested her.
Not that Heaven didn’t allow pleasure, but you must be mated for that to occur there.
Whoever hired her certainly wasn’t playing by the rules of the realm.
If those rules even existed anymore, he wasn’t sure.
As long as Catalina had sex with free, consenting adults, Erebos allowed her to do as she pleased, but he didn’t know how he felt about her going to Heaven. It was a dangerous territory at the moment. It had been that way for decades now.
“You didn’t come to me for permission?” he asked .
She shrugged. “The client was… high-profile . Someone I couldn’t say no to. And I’m free now, right?”
“You are, but Heaven isn’t somewhere you should be roaming around. For now, I’d prefer you stay in this realm.”
“So you can have me all to yourself?” She sat up on her knees and removed the straps of her nightgown, showcasing smooth, olive skin.
Erebos ignored her. “Have you seen anything unusual on your visits to Heaven?” No one in this realm could Travel there without clearance, so maybe he could get answers from Catalina.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. Although there could have been a glamour.”
“And what happened when you met with this client?”
Her hazel gaze lingered on his, attempting to decipher why there was suddenly a shift between them when they’d spent countless nights together before this. “They mentioned an annual visit here to check on Hell. I overheard him speaking with a friend.”
FUCK.
“When?”
“In two days.”
Erebos tried to rein in his temper, but fury sizzled beneath the surface of his skin soon enough. He didn’t currently possess his powers, and who knew if he’d ever get them back? If King Bastian and his henchmen decided to test his strength…
He was in deep, deep shit.
“Thank you for letting me know,” he said quietly.
“Do you want me to make you feel better? I can tell you’re stressed.” She crawled off the bed and reached his side, placing a delicate hand on his chest.
He pulled away from her, shaking his head. “Not tonight, Catalina. That will be all.”
“Are you sure?” She blinked at him beneath thick lashes, using her best puppy dog eyes. “I’ve been told I have fantastic healing capabilities.”
Catalina wasn’t a healer. Only those with royal blood had healing powers. The type of healing she was willing to provide had nothing to do with mending stitches, and she made that blatantly obvious when her fingertips traveled down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his trousers.
Catalina was created for pure temptation with her wine-stained lips and chestnut hair, but he had no desire for her now when the only woman he wanted in his sheets was the one woman who loathed him above all else.
Holding her gaze with unflinching confidence, he said, “You are dismissed, Catalina.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Disappointed and sulking, she took her leave. When Erebos was alone, he stripped himself of his clothes and crawled beneath the comforter, his head already throbbing from the list of tasks he would need to accomplish in two days.
He’d have to brief Eryx immediately in the morning to prepare the troops in case things didn’t go as expected, and he’d have to summon Izara back early from her soul-catching trip. Erebos needed his soul seeker here.
Not like there’d be any souls for her to catch, anyway.
King Bastian had visited before, but it was always a scheduled visit, since he was only allowed to check in once a year without permission from the Lord of Hell. It was established in a decree by King Amos the night he was murdered that this realm, along with Earth, belonged to Erebos.
The lord had tried his best to forget about those years spent in Bastian’s stronghold, where he was held captive and beaten to a pulp by the execrable maniac obsessed with power, but he knew the decree only protected him for so long.
With the current judicial system, the decree was set to end in a year, and then Hell and Earth would be Bastian’s realms to deal with, along with those who occupied them.
Including Erebos.
The bile rose in his throat at that revelation, knowing his safety was a ticking time bomb.
Closing his eyes, Erebos loathed the anxiety that ran through his veins at the impending doom of Bastian’s arrival.
He was taught ever since he could remember to tolerate inconsolable amounts of pain and never to show weakness.
From the minute he had control of his powers, he was instructed to kill, torture, and decipher the line between those who deserved forgiveness and those who didn’t.
That level of responsibility weighed on him.
Especially at night when he was left alone to his self-deprecating thoughts that plagued him.
The blood on his hands.
The souls he’d destroyed.
The bruises and tears he’d dealt along the way when he was the furthest from a saint.
Bastian’s surprise visitation was an attempt to catch Erebos off guard, as the decree only protected him in Hell so long as he abided by the realm’s rules. Erebos suspected Bastian had gotten word about the seraph being killed on Earth, and the king wanted to ensure Erebos had no part in it.
The problem was that he did play a part in that seraph’s death by coming to Alessia’s aid and helping her escape, and if Bastian somehow figured that out, the decree would be over. Erebos would be thrust right back into those dungeons that continue to haunt his dreams.
He may have been safe from Bastian’s grasp for the time being, but not for long.
Evil always found a way to destroy whatever was in its path.