Page 37 of The Damned (Coven of Bones #3)

M A R G O T

My body ached with a deep pulsing feeling that thrummed through my center.

Rubbing at the lingering scar that curved down my chest between my breasts, I studiously avoided Beelzebub’s watchful gaze as we made our way down to the dining room for breakfast. I shuddered to think of what might await us when we arrived.

I had the distinct feeling the early hour would mean nothing in this place where the souls so deeply embraced the sin that confined them here.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that an eternity spent doing the very act that had brought them joy while they’d been living was far preferable to the fate that awaited them on the cliffs.

Maybe it was just the freedom that came from acceptance once it could no longer be avoided.

I couldn’t help but think of the parallels that could be drawn between the souls trapped here and the choice Charlotte Hecate had made.

If she was going to be condemned for witchcraft, she might as well do everything in her power to be guilty of the crime.

I envied the freedom in that choice, the ability to simply accept oneself for what they were and thrive within the confines of their own expectations.

I wished I could sink into that familiarity, to find the place where my magic and I became one instead of it simply feeling like a passenger intruding within my own body, taking root where there should have only been me.

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?

We could rest today, leave tomorrow if you need more time,” Beelzebub said, and I shook my head at his constant need to pester me.

Even the suspicion that his intentions were in the right place wasn’t enough to stave off the annoyance I felt every time he inserted himself into my business.

I hated the feeling of being a burden—despised the sensation that he was obligated to care for me between the song that held him captive and the allegiance he felt toward Lucifer.

He’d only grown more attentive after the night before and what had happened after we’d…

I didn’t even want to think of what we’d almost done.

“I’m fine. I just need to get the fuck out of this Goddess-damned circle,” I grunted, not caring enough to restrain my tone.

The snappiness of the words was evident enough to make most turn away, but he kept that soft gaze on the side of my face.

He was an immovable force, a tempest waiting to erupt into chaos and wind at the sign of trouble, and it didn’t bring me comfort to know that was at my beck and call.

I didn’t trust myself enough not to use it.

I strode forward through the entry to the dining room, my eyes darting around and searching for the carnal acts I felt so certain would surround me. If I could take them in all at once, maybe the repeated shocks would ease and the tension of the magic couldn’t build.

But there was no sex in the room, nothing even to remotely indicate the sordid acts that had occurred in the manor only the night before.

The participants sat around a long, rectangular table at the center of the room, sipping juice and coffee and holding their heads in their hands.

It reminded me of the hangovers I’d seen being nursed after the students of Hollow’s Grove got into a few too many bottles in the woods after they snuck out, but I hadn’t been left with the impression that these people had been drinking enough to justify this .

I stared at them in confusion, my attention turning to Asmodeus as he stood from the head of the table in a smooth, elegant glide.

His lithe body moved toward me slowly, his swagger so close to a prowl that I took an involuntary step back and ran into Beelzebub’s chest. He settled a single hand on top of my shoulder, a silent support that I hadn’t wanted only a moment before.

But it made me still, made me swallow down my own apprehension as the archdemon before me spread his mouth into a feral grin, revealing the glint of teeth that he ran his tongue over.

He stopped before me, risking Beelzebub’s wrath to touch a fingertip to the scabbed-over flesh on my chest where my top had left it revealed.

“There’s our little firecracker,” he said, grinning as Beelzebub’s hand slid off my shoulder.

He curved his arm around my waist, wrapping me in a harsh embrace.

Asmodeus’s attention left me, going to the Lord of Flies where he stood behind me.

I didn’t need to turn to feel the rage in Beelzebub’s glare, to watch the battle arc between them like sparks of lightning.

Asmodeus removed his hand smoothly, raising his finger and drawing it into his mouth as if to taste me.

“Please, come sit, Margot. It would be so rude of me not to offer you nourishment in exchange for what you gave us last night.”

“What I gave?” I asked, following after him as I studied the people at the table. Amelia sat beside the chair Asmodeus had vacated, her cheeks full of color whereas the others’ were pale and slick with the sheen of sweat.

“The magic Amelia carved from your chest,” Asmodeus answered as he pulled out the chair to his opposite side.

I settled into it as Beelzebub growled beneath his breath, scaring the person who sat on my opposite side until he toppled out of his chair.

His movement was sluggish as he got to his feet, moving to an open chair farther down the table as I watched in complete bewilderment.

“It was more than enough to feed this circle for the next week, and she only kept half of it. I cannot imagine what you have kept locked away inside of you. Magic that we will make great use of here instead of letting it go to waste!”

“If she only took half, where did the other half go?” I asked as Asmodeus took his seat at the head of the table. I watched in horror as his gaze slid to my side, glancing over to Beelzebub with an arrogant smirk.

“He didn’t tell you that he absorbed the other half?

His control is remarkable really. Amelia came downstairs and immediately shared that magic with the others, casting a wide net so that everyone had the privilege of feeling such unrestrained lust. But our precious Beelzebub never emerged from that bedroom, sitting vigil at your side all night.

I do wonder if that is to account for his surly disposition this morning.

Any normal demon would have fucked the first woman he laid eyes on with that much lust riding his body.

He must be very smitten with you to abstain from such a release, little Red witch.

He always was the softest of all of us. The most loyal to his cause. ”

“That’s enough,” Beelzebub snapped, standing from the dining room table.

He held out a hand for me, and I narrowed my gaze at it.

Opening myself up to the magic surrounding us, letting the tiniest inkling of it seep inside, I felt the magic swirling about him, the aura of desire that he hadn’t bothered to rid himself of.

It shouldn’t have pleased me that he’d rejected the opportunity to find pleasure in the body of another. I should have been horrified to know the deep, tumultuous storm that waited inside him, begging for release, and the knowledge should have set heavy on me that he bore that pain because of me.

Because he’d taken it from me, so that I wouldn’t hurt anymore.

Instead, something within me practically purred with satisfaction—content in the knowledge that if I’d been willing, he would have chosen me. He would have picked me out of this entire room filled with the greatest beauties I’d ever seen—all genders and bodies to choose from.

He would have picked me.

It warmed me for only a moment before it fizzled out, leaving me to grasp at the remains of something that had soothed my insides and coming up empty-handed.

Beelzebub didn’t miss the momentary softening, his head tipping ever so slightly to the side.

He mistook it for concern, the harsh line of his mouth going soft as he murmured to me, “I’m alright, songbird. ”

I shook off my care that something had been taken from me, shoved down the dreams of being able to care and to love so fully.

They were not meant for me, and caring for a person in a way that was anything close to romantic would be a mistake under the best circumstances, never knowing if that person was with me for their love of me or for my magic.

Falling for someone who had already been exposed to my song twice was the stupidest move a Red witch could make if she wanted something genuine.

I wanted someone who wanted me. Not the Red witch or the siren. Not the pretty girl whom the Council was so sure would grow into a great and terrible beauty.

Me.

Beelzebub knew the moment had passed, sighing as he turned his attention back to the lord of Lust. “We’re leaving,” he said as I placed my hand in his, helping me rise from my seat.

The breakfast on my plate sat uneaten, and though hunger made my stomach churn, I couldn’t bring myself to grab a morsel off that plate, not knowing we were already on the edge of something violent when Asmodeus’s brow rose in response.

He stood from his seat as Beelzebub guided me out of the dining room, hurrying me through the manor.

I had to run to keep up with his fast pace, and he quickly matched me in stride as we darted out the front doors and onto the patio.

We turned right instead of left, moving away from the garden where we’d entered the Second Circle.

Asmodeus threw the doors open behind us, walking out of the manor as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “She belongs here, Beelzebub!” he shouted, Red magic swirling about his arms as we raced off the other side of the patio and hurried into the lush greenery of the surrounding landscape.