Page 3 of The Cursed

“I achieved what I came here to do and things I never would have wanted,” I said in an attempt to remind him that I’d always had an agenda in coming to Crystal Hollow. In my ideal scenario, this town had always been a pitstop, if I managed to survive it at least.

The latter seemed unlikely, given the unfortunate turn of events.

Like being stabbed by the man I’d somehow allowed myself to fall for, similar to the naive little girl he’d accused me of being.

Even I knew I stood no chance of fighting my way to freedom. My magic was distant, overused in the opening of the seal, and with none of the earth nearby for me to call on. I glanced at the Madizza throne from the corner of my eye, the black-tinted rose petals fluttering in an invisible breeze as if they felt the faint call of my magic.

I stepped back once more, hoping to get just a little bit closer and avoid the death Lucifer promised in his stare. I bumped into something massive and hard at my back, tilting my head up to look at where Beelzebub stared down at me with disinterest—his black, leathery wings twitching as they curled around his shoulders. He reached around the front of my body, capturing my chin with a hand as the other touched the back of my head.

The breath caught in my throat, the realization of what he intended flashing through me faster than I could react. Gray wouldn’t even give me the courtesy of killing me himself, allowing his minion to do his dirty work in the end.

Lucifer’s eyes widened, his expression turning horrified as his mouth opened suddenly. “No!” he commanded as Beelzebub sharply snapped my head to the side.

A crack resounded through my skull as Gray rushed forward, catching me as I fell. He stopped me from crumpling to the ground as my head hung at an unnatural angle that I couldn’t right, my lungs compressing as they expelled a final breath.

His hand slammed into my chest, an ache spreading from the heat of his touch when all that surrounded me was cold.

But inside, I burned.

2

LUCIFER THE MORNINGSTAR

Willow dropped, her legs crumpling beneath her as her eyes glazed over. Beelzebub released her as if she’d burned him the moment I shouted my protest, as if that would be enough to undo what he’d done. My body moved more quickly than I remembered, leaving me to stumble slightly as I adjusted to the feeling of my own skin enveloped around my soul.

I caught Willow before she could hit the floor, sliding an arm beneath her to offer support. I winced at the odd angle of her neck, at the way it hung limply with nothing to support it. The shape of her reminded me of Susannah, of the grotesque way her death had clung to what remained of her even after Charlotte and I raised her from the grave.

No.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as her soul severed from her physical form, the ghost of her spirit rising from her chest in a faint misty form.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, even though I knew she was past hearing me. The Willow I knew could no longer sense those trying to reach her, her spirit lost to the call of Hell in her soul. What I would do would bring her pain, would torment her, and likely make her hate me even more than she already did.

I pushed my hand through that mist leaking free from her heart, slamming my palm against the bare skin of her chest. Inky tendrils of dark, forbidden magic spread through the mist that could have brought her to peace if her soul hadn’t been damned by her ancestor’s actions, wrapping around what remained of Willow and clinging to her.

Her skin split beneath my hand, cracking open as if she was made of porcelain. Darkness spread over her skin like the vines she loved, creating a hollow in her body as I focused my magic on gripping every last wisp of her soul. I wouldn’t let any part of her escape me, wouldn’t let any bit of the woman I’d come to crave more than my own freedom, sever from what made herher.

The tendrils latched on, caging her in a brutal, cruel embrace as her body shuddered in my arms. My free hand inched up her back, slipping beneath her top and touching the mark I’d put on her shoulder. The one that made hermine.

The one that enabled me to bind her to me in a desperate bid to save her.

Her back arched involuntarily as my nails sunk into the center of the triangle I’d marked her with, elongating into black talons that pierced her flesh. I knew the pain she’d feel when she awoke would be crippling, that she’d remember bits and pieces of what had happened in the aches that plagued her body.

Cradling her in my arms, I leaned forward and touched my forehead to hers, holding her in position as I shifted my hand on her chest, sinking my fingers between the cracks I’d created in her skin.

The dark magic I’d used to trap her soul here returned to me, surrounding my skin and tugging her back into her body. Only when her soul had returned to her, wrapping around her heart and making itself at home in the useless, dead flesh of her body, did I pull my fingers free and stare down at where the mist tinted with the slightest green and black wisps swirled inside the crevice I’d made.

She hung limply as I pulled back, holding up my forearm to Beelzebub, who stared at it and swallowed. “Lucifer…” he said, his voice trailing off as he looked between me and my wife.

“Do it now,” I commanded, watching as he unsheathed his favored dagger from the strap crossed over his chest. He pressed it into the vulnerable underside of my wrist, dragging it up my vein until he reached the inner part of my elbow. What I aimed to do would require far more blood than any mortal could easily give, only the true immortality of my form offering her salvation.

Blood flowed freely over my skin, dripping onto the floor beneath me as I shifted to place it over Willow’s mouth. She was unresponsive as I pressed it to her lips, smearing her mouth and skin with my blood and allowing it to pool in her mouth. The archdemons were silent as we waited for it to drip down the back of her throat, for her body to consume what would fix the wrong done to her mortal form.

A ragged breath filled her lungs, her neck shifting and snapping back into place as the bones mended. I hung my head forward, pulling her tighter into me and drawing comfort from the rise and fall of her chest in an even, natural rhythm. It was the same one she had when I watched her sleep, the same heartbeat that echoed with her breaths.

My blood dripped onto the floor as my flesh worked to knit itself back together, straining as I stood with Willow in my arms and headed for the door. Her screams of pain began, tearing through my eardrums and making me wince. The pain in that sound was unimaginable. To think of what she must have been feeling to make noises like that even in the depths of sleep…

“Lucifer, we need to know what you want us to do. The plans have clearly changed,” Asmodeus called behind me.

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