Page 39 of The Damned (Coven of Bones #3)

M A R G O T

I landed on the other side, sprawled out on the grass with a laugh bubbling in my throat.

Magic still rode my body, making my skin feel warm and flushed when it had no place being so any longer.

I took the moment alone to center myself against its influence, to ground myself as I pushed to sit up.

Shoving all that power back into the well within me, I allowed it to resettle without the constant prodding energy of the Second Circle.

I felt it resting on the other side of that boundary, waiting like it would welcome me with open arms, but it had allowed me to pass regardless.

Beelzebub burst through the boundary, his gaze finding mine immediately.

He grinned as he saw me sitting on the ground, holding out a hand to help me up.

I allowed it, rising to face Asmodeus’s rage-filled features on the other side of the boundary.

He didn’t motion to pass through to the Third Circle, not with Beelzebub standing guard beside me.

We were surrounded by Gluttony, a kingdom crafted from excess as I looked around and took everything in.

“How did we manage to pass through here without Asmodeus’s approval?

” I asked, allowing Beelzebub to guide me with a hand at my waist, turning me in the direction he wanted us to go.

I walked beside him, immensely grateful for how easy it was to navigate the springy grass of Gluttony compared to the deep sands of Purgatory that had been literal Hell to walk on.

The boots on my feet were far more comfortable without the scalding heat attempting to penetrate the soles, and I felt my body flag as it enjoyed the ease of our stroll.

“We would have needed his approval to pass through using the portal, but Asmodeus greatly overestimates his own importance. His sin may not be pride, but that doesn’t mean his vanity over his own sex appeal hasn’t done damage to his overinflated ego in all facets of his life,” Beelzebub said, smirking down at me as I stared up at him from the side of my eye.

“It is our job to make sure the circle we are responsible for is fed, not the other way around. We serve the magic. Somewhere along the line some of us have forgotten that and act like it exists to help us.”

“Careful, you are in grave danger of sounding like Willow,” I said, grinning through the warning.

Beel grunted, the smile drifting from his face as his expression turned hesitantly thoughtful.

“I will admit my first assessment of your friend may not have been fair or true to the nature she has shown in the time that has passed since. I believe she simply does what she believes is right at every turn, and while that may sometimes lead her astray in certain aspects, she does it with the best intentions.”

“That sounded perilously close to a compliment,” I said, unable to hold back my laughter.

He smiled down at me, turning to face me more fully as we walked as if he couldn’t bear not to look at me at that moment.

I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, turning my gaze away with a flush.

I studied my surroundings more thoroughly, from the massive lilies to the biggest oranges I’d ever seen growing on a tree that stretched toward the sky.

“I’ll deny every word if you ever share it,” he said, earning a chuckle from me.

“I would expect nothing less, demon,” I snarked, letting us lapse into silence.

I was brimming with questions about Gluttony, about how far we would need to travel and what would be required of me in this place. I didn’t think it would be much, given that Beelzebub was the lord of this circle and would easily grant me permission to pass.

We walked in silence for only a few moments, Beelzebub’s body close to mine even though he made no move to touch me as we traveled.

I felt him at my side, brimming with energy that was my fault, and guilt plagued me knowing he hadn’t been able to release it since.

Acknowledging that energy pulsing between us felt dangerous, like acknowledging something better left unspoken if I wanted to remain in my safe little haven of denial.

What had happened between us the night before had been a mistake, a necessity if we wanted to escape the Second Circle.

Even still, it lingered between us, neither of us knowing how to broach the conversation I wasn’t ready for.

I wasn’t ready to tell Beelzebub that if it hadn’t been for the excess magic, I never would have lost control the way I had.

I didn’t know how to tell him that I respected him for putting a stop to things when I hadn’t been able to, for exercising restraint on my behalf.

It went a long way to earning my trust, to me understanding that my body was safe with him.

Sometime in the night, the lines between us had shifted. He was no longer the one who couldn’t be trusted.

I was.

The realization of his immunity to my magic was a complex one, leaving me relieved that I had not, in fact, stripped him of his consent and will after all. If Asmodeus himself couldn’t do it, I didn’t stand a chance. But that left me with one thrilling yet horrifying reality I needed to face.

Beelzebub wanted me, and that desire was genuine. It wasn’t the consequence of my magic, or a pull he couldn’t control. How long had I spent wondering what it would feel like to be desired and to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was real and not a ploy of magic?

I cleared my throat, not willing to dive into that conversation just yet.

“Thank you for believing in me. For encouraging me when I needed it most. Without you there, I never would have been able to evade Asmodeus and step through that boundary,” I said, swallowing thickly as I glanced up toward the sky.

“And thank you for last night. For staying in control when I lost it. I don’t know what I would have done if—”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, and for a moment my heart fell into my stomach.

I wondered if the night before had changed his opinion of me, if he no longer desired me in the same way he had.

Maybe my behavior had shattered whatever illusion of higher standards he’d seen in me, and just as I was realizing the truth of his attraction, it had passed—a fleeting thing in the wind.

The thought wasn’t as welcome as it should have been.

I swallowed, my tongue feeling thick in my mouth as I fought to find casual words. He couldn’t know the contradictions within me, the mess that I’d become, thanks to him. “I don’t?”

He smirked, gripping me by the hand as he pulled me to a stop.

I paused, turning to him and keeping my face carefully blank so he wouldn’t see the nerves within me.

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine and waiting.

The gesture was so like what Amelia and I had observed through the window that I swallowed thickly, my throat closing as my gut swirled.

His eyes remained on mine, searching for any hint of rejection or objection as one of those callous hands rose slowly.

He toyed with the ends of my hair before sliding his hand beneath the curtain of my hair to cup my jaw, holding me captive in a gentle embrace that was so much more than lust. This was the danger that lingered beyond sex, the true damage that waited for me on the other side of the pleasure I could not have.

It was the possibility of love. Lingering just out of reach. My wrists throbbed where the marks of my magical binding lingered just out of sight, spreading an ache through me for what I would never truly feel.

This.

My eyes drifted closed, lashes fluttering as I sighed into him, tension bleeding out from my body as he cupped my cheek with his other hand.

The warmth of his palms sank into me as we shared breath, the intimacy of the act—of simply breathing the same air and existing as one—rending my nerves from me.

His mouth touched mine gently, the faintest brush of his lips pulling a sigh from me. He swallowed it, pulling me tighter into his chest when I didn’t pull away.

I couldn’t find the will or the strength to do so, sinking into him more fully as I raised my hands to rest on his chest. Our kisses the night before had been full of intensity, of lust and longing and all the headier aspects of this strange, pulsating attraction I couldn’t deny any longer.

This was the other side of the coin, everything soft and emotional and intimate as my nails dug into his flesh, drawing a groan from him.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping inside to taste me.

Nobody had ever kissed me this way, like I mattered beyond an itch that needed to be scratched.

Beelzebub held me like I mattered, like he believed I was more than the box life had put me in.

I tasted his sin on his tongue, the obsession that drove him to possess things.

It crashed into me, tangling with my own sin and becoming something different altogether before he finally pulled back and stared down at me.

His stare was heavy and meaningful when I opened my eyes, and I realized again that it hadn’t been me who had pulled away and ended the embrace.

“I don’t want to be something you regret, songbird,” he said, releasing my face and taking a step back. He watched me as if he saw just how deeply affected I was, as if he wanted me to sit with that and consider what it meant for me and for us. “I want to be your everything.”

He turned, resuming his earlier pace and leaving me no choice but to get my shit together and follow after him. He stayed close, capturing my hand in his, though he didn’t push any further contact.

“You’re a menace,” I said, huffing a laugh in an attempt to hide just how deeply he’d affected me with that kiss.

He turned to look at me over his shoulder, the curve of his mouth a hint that I wasn’t fooling anyone. “Only for you, Margot.”

I resisted the urge to touch my tingling lips, to rub the numbness from them as I realized a very real, simple truth.

I was so far out of my element, fighting a battle I didn’t stand a chance of winning.

What kind of monster did it make me that I had never been so happy to lose?