Page 14 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires (Diabolic Romance #3)

Bez

I excused myself from the feast and went to search for Wally. Common sense told me not to interfere, to overstep, to make a scene outside the expectations of my role, but Wally didn’t know how to fully conduct himself—when to challenge, when to concede, when to call out for assistance. If I left him alone with Lilith, I feared she’d simply steamroll him into submission. Wally was far from timid, but he avoided conflict when at all possible, and I might’ve told him to put away his best weapon, which was his mouth. It was also his best asset. Aside from his actual ass.

I snorted at my own perverse humor, eager to ravish Wally once we’d paid our dues and escaped Hell. But first, I had to find him. Not an easy feat since I’d looped around the feast two times over despite taking deliberate turns down halls leading out of the temple.

“Why in such a rush to wander aimlessly?” Corson asked, continuing his patronizing attitude as he shuffled out of the dining hall to accompany me.

I sighed. “Is this feast going to be hexed until the very end of the banquet, or does this particular course require trapping the guests?”

“Mother does prefer her privacy.”

I huffed in response.

“Even if you found your way out of this spatial loop—which isn’t easy,” Corson grumbled, feigning frustration, “what’re you going to do if you find your devil? Sit on the floor like a lapdog again?”

“Lapdogs sit in laps.” I took a sharp turn, almost gleaming a sliver of an opening in the corner of my eye before the illusion locked me in the infinitely looping pattern. “It’s right there in the name, moron.”

“You’re welcome to sit on my lap if you so desire.” Corson sped up, walking side by side with me.

“Pass.”

“Shame. You look good in your own flesh.” He arched his back and squared his shoulders so he could stand a bit taller, still a few inches shorter than me. And that was without the horns. “Quite fuckable.”

“And you looked better dressed in that bloody feathered Fae,” I said, reminding him of the last time we encountered each other, the briefness of our interaction, and how it led to his death.

“Those meatsuits you wore didn’t do you near enough justice.” Corson continued, ignoring my comment and nonchalantly peeking at my ass. “Though, the first time I saw one of your suits, it was already in shambles.”

He was referring to my headless corpse that Eligos had propped up as a trophy or trap or both when attempting a ridiculous plan to assault and control all the Hells in existence.

“Gotta say that particular body was atrocious, but I did have fun sticking it to you.” Corson nudged my ribs with his elbow. “Come on. Remember? I rammed you with a sphere or something.”

“A lance.”

“Whatever, it was long and hard.” Corson snickered. “You took it well, as I recalled.”

I joined in with the laughter, encouraging a bellowing reaction.

“Here I thought you were simply one of Lilith’s many royal children.” I slapped him on the back. “But you’re so much more than that, aren’t you?”

“Most certainly.”

“You’re her jester, too,” I said, shoving him away and continuing my search for a chink in this hexed space.

All I needed was to find a sliver of an escape, and then I could scan for Wally outside the parameters of the illusion. I still didn’t know what I’d say when I stumbled onto him and Lilith, what threatening tone Lilith might’ve used to sus out Wally’s vulnerability as a devil, but as his commander, his champion, his right hand in Hell, it was my place to remain at his side. A fact Lilith wouldn’t contest. Probably. Hopefully.

“How about we stop wandering in circles, and I bring you someplace where I can bend you over and appreciate that lovely Diabolic body?”

“Not on your life.” I smirked. “Which I’ve already taken once.”

“Oh, come now. An ass like that needs to be worshipped.” Corson had the foulest grin. “We can take turns if you insist. I’ve bedded a few of Beelzebub’s demons, and you lot tend to be the most ravenous.”

“Flattery will only get you closer to Oblivion. Especially if you don’t step out of my way.”

“I simply thought we could enjoy each other’s bodies while my mommy is busy bedding your boy.”

“What?” I stopped walking, finally giving Corson the attention he craved.

“The things I’d love to try out on your luscious body.” Corson chuckled; his grating voice reverberated loudly. “Think of the fun we’d have dancing and dueling and dying in each other’s arms with each thrust.”

I growled.

Corson slapped an arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. “Bet I can make you purr so much better than that, darling.”

My insides twisted in knots, essence uncertain of whether to lash out or curl inward at the realization of this news.

“Come now, you must’ve realized this wasn’t a typical Devil’s Banquet.”

There was an air of overly considerate demons who didn’t scheme or conspire nearly as much as anticipated. Though, I didn’t attend many events or court appearances with Beelzebub, and the few he dragged me to usually turned into brawls or sieges or full-blown assaults meant to catapult our Hell into a war with another.

“She’s always hungry for new devil progeny,” Corson continued.

“What?” I cocked my head.

“Yep.” He ran his hand over his sculpted torso, tracing his fingers over the fine muscles of his body. “That’s why I’m one of Mommy’s favorites.”

I waited for him to finish fawning over himself and explain his answer as the pieces of this madness slowly clicked together.

“I’m not purely spun from her essence.” The sapphire of Corson’s eyes glowed. “I got a bit of Lucifer inside me, too. The big, famous daddy devil. Well, before his demons conspired and gutted him, ripped him to shreds, and divvied up his essence.”

“You’re born of two devils,” I said.

It wasn’t impossible, simply uncommon. Merging essence meant offering vulnerability, even if only during the ritual itself. And devils didn’t do vulnerability. But who dared to deny the devil Lilith?

Wally would have no choice but to obey Lillith’s whim. And with that realization, my world fell in on itself. What would this do to him? When I ripped the devil essence from my being, it nearly killed me, but somehow, it was enough to resurrect Wally, to heal him, to keep him alive and healthy and always improving. What would happen if he broke off a piece of himself and offered it to Lilith?

What would it mean to me? Every part of me wanted to lay waste to this temple, storm the chambers of whatever room Lilith had taken Wally, prevent any union that meant Wally shared a piece of his soul with another. But I didn’t even know where Lilith had gone. And I certainly couldn’t fight off a devil.