Page 7 of The Cursed

I swallowed as I headed for the woods and the Cursed that waited for me there, determined to take my chances with the beasts over the archdemons. The Cursed could be killed.

I wasn’t so sure about the archdemons.

The vine unwound from my arm slowly as I walked, separating from me with longing. It knew as well as I that I was the best chance this land had of true restoration. I refused to acknowledge the goodbye in that longing touch, promising that I’d help them when I returned to bring the Coven back to what it always should have been.

Blood dripped down my arm as I slowly made my way to the woods. My pace grew steadier, and I became less uncertain of the way my body worked. Whatever had changed within me when Gray brought me back from the dead couldn’t be seen, but I felt it in the corded lines of muscle beneath my skin. I felt the strange, unfamiliar strength in each of my fingers.

My steps gained momentum, increasing in speed until I sprinted toward the woods. Normally, I’d have detested running from the onset. Hell, I’d have hated that I had to run before I even moved my legs.

This took no energy, surging me forward with such little effort that I nearly tripped. The massive figure stepped out of the shadows of the woods just as I reached them, his leathery wings spreading from where he’d curled them in front to shield him from sight. Beelzebub’s hair was shaggy, framing his square jaw as he stared down at me.

“You’re meant to be sleeping, Consort,” he said as I skidded to a stop in front of him. He didn’t so much as flinch as my awkward attempt to control my limbs sent me sprawling forward, crashing into him and smacking my hands against the gleaming, bronze skin of his chest.

He’d tattooed himself with runes that glowed the same gold as Lucifer’s eyes, the Enochian symbols seeming to writhe beneath my hand as I panicked and shoved myself back. I fell onto my ass on the grass, my fingers instinctively digging into the earth beneath me.

Grounding myself against the unknown, against the fear of the archdemon in front of me.

“You fucking killed me,” I said, my voice dropping low in warning.

The bastard shrugged, his wings spreading behind him as if they needed to stretch. “I apologize. The last time Lucifer and I spoke, you were meant to die. I wasn’t aware of the change in plans.”

“Youapologize?” I asked, my voice as incredulous as it felt. “Do you honestly think that is enough for what you did to me?”

He trailed his gaze down my body, bringing it back up to my face with nothing but disinterest in his features. “You appear fine to me.”

“I’m notfine. Do you know what it is to be trapped in the abyss between life and death? Do you have any fucking idea how disorienting and terrifying it is to be aware that I died and somehow still be fucking trapped in this Hellhole?” I screeched, lunging forward.

I planted two palms on his chest, shoving him with all my rage isolated into the movement. Beelzebub’s eyes widened in shock briefly before the sound of my flesh slapping against him erupted through the courtyard. He stumbled back, barely catching himself with the tip of his wing on the ground behind him as we stared at one another.

His gaze narrowed as he righted himself, dropping down to my palms, where I wiped them against the silk of my nightgown. “Go back to your husband, Consort. He’ll not be pleased to find you out of bed just yet.”

“He isnotmy husband,” I snarled, my nostrils flaring with the constant reminder of something that had been done to me while I’d beensleeping.

He shifted closer, towering over me as he glared down. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. I don’t know what spell you’ve cast, but it serves you right that the very trap you set to make him love you is what imprisoned you in the end.”

“You think I enchanted him?” I asked, scoffing as I sidestepped him and made to stride away toward the woods.

Fuck this.

His hand wrapped around my bicep, pulling me to a halt as he held perfectly still beside me. “I think you wanted him wrapped around your twisted little finger, and you got exactly what you wanted. He left friends in Hell rather than risk losing you to the seal. If that is not an enchantment, then I do not know what is.”

“Perhaps it was simply my glowing personality that attracted him. Did you think of that?” I asked, pulling at my bicep. Beelzebub’s grip slipped, his fingers bruising me harshly as he fought to keep hold of me.

He lowered his gaze and trailed it back up before huffing a soft, condescending laugh. “I see you, Willow Hecate. I’m not impressed.”

My fury grew, coiling in my stomach with a strength that took my breath away. I couldn’t see past the tint of red to my rage, past the tunnel vision as I stared at the demon who was so willing to underestimate me and accuse me of ensnaring the devil all in the same breath.

The branches on the trees crackled, moving as if they blew in the wind, but there was no movement to the air that could be responsible for such a thing. In fact, the air went unnaturally still as I stared up at the purple-eyed demon.

He seemed unaware of the rustling trees I felt in my blood, utterly ignorant of the way they slowly inched toward him with my anger.

“That’s enough, Beelzebub. Unhand my errant wife,” Gray said from somewhere behind me. I sighed, trying not to wince when Beelzebub slowly released my bicep and stepped away. I paused, attempting to calm the humming in my blood yet keeping the life around me at my disposal in case I needed the help.

Swallowing, I turned on my heel and faced the man who had quickly gone from ‘too good to be true’ to my worst nightmare.

He’d changed into a suit, having foregone his jacket so that only a white button-up covered his chest. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal the golden skin that was so at odds with how fair he’d been before getting his body back. His hands were clenched at his side, the only physical symptom of his ire, and it made the muscle in his forearm tense and visible. He tipped his head to the side, letting his gaze trail down over my body, still only clad in the silken nightgown he’d changed me into in my haste to escape.

“Going somewhere, Witchling?”

---