Page 6 of Tricky Princess
Ellea’s ears began to buzz as endless possibilities ran through her head.
“And Belias? Is he floating around with your discarded items?”
He gave her a wicked smile. “I like the way you think.” He shook his head. “That was a pocket between places. I simply opened a door for him to fall through.”
“Simply!” Ellea scoffed. “Easy for you to say. It took every ounce of willpower just to form a dagger.”
“I doubt you were in a state of mind to conjure something made of an element you aren’t familiar with. It will get better—easier, actually. The longer you’re here, we will work on things; and you might find your magic will like its surroundings.”
Why would her magic like its surroundings? And why had it conjured obsidian? She’d only asked for something pointy to stab out Belias’ stupid eyes. Maybe it did because they were surrounded by it? So many questions whirled around her head. Why wasn’t she angry? Asmodeus’ kind words and his hopeful expression put her more at ease than they should.
He kidnapped you, don’t let Stockholm syndrome set in this soon.
“Well, hopefully, I won’t be here that long,” she said, making her tone harsh.
“Yes, well…” He paused as if searching for the words. “Regardless, we will work on it.”
“We? You took me from my home. Why would I ask for your help?”
“Why wouldn’t you ask the King of Gods for help with your godly gifts?” Asmodeus said in his stern king’s voice.
“Gifts? Gods?” She shook her head. “I’m a witch, that is all.”
He stepped toward her and grasped both her shoulders. She didn’t shy away from the embrace and looked up into his eyes. “You are so much more.”
3
Ellea
SECOND DAY IN HEL
Ellea felt languid in a soft bed, its silken sheets caressing her body, so different from Ros’ rough bites against her skin and the harsh snap of his hips. Each desperate thrust pushed her up the pillowy bed. He was desperate in his fucking, chasing her release as much as his own.
Everything became fuzzy before she was able to beg for more. Anxiety overtook the bliss that was crashing against her. She blinked in the darkness, trying to remember why she was scared, what she should be worried about. The answer was so close she could taste it, but it slipped away as her stomach fluttered and her legs clamped around Ros’ strong body. She searched for his mouth, needing it on hers to swallow the pain and her cries of pleasure. Yanking him by the hair, she pried him from her breast that he was so focused on. He moaned into her kiss as her fingers raked up his strong back.
“More, I need more.” She broke from his mouth, lifting her hips so he could go harder, deeper.
He growled against her throat and became more erratic with his movements. “I need you.”
“You have me.”
She could barely get the words out as she clamped around his hardness, so close to oblivion, then there was nothing. Her body felt hollow, and sadness replaced the euphoria that was Ros and his cock.
“Fuck,” she grumbled into the soft pillow.
Ellea closed her eyes tighter, trying to get rid of the sliver of light dragging her from her dream. She searched for Ros’ large arm to hold her tighter and bring her back to it or wake him and demand he finish what his fake self started. The comforter under her hand was ornate and silky, nothing like the comforter they shared. Opening her eyes, she groaned, realizing the spot behind her was empty—and then it hit her. She was in Hel, in Ros’ room, and very alone.
She didn’t remember falling asleep, only that she’d fought it off as she waited for Ros to step out of the shadows and bring her home. Boredom eventually took hold, and she’d busied herself with searching through every drawer, every cabinet, and the closets despite Asmodeus giving her the grand tour before he left her for the night. He’d even shown her how to work the bathroom, worried that her realm wasn’t as advanced with their plumbing. It was strange for a king to do such a thing, at least she thought it was. She had even voiced her opinion on the matter, and he’d answered with, “I didn’t want the staff or subjects to overwhelm you on your first day.” Someone cleared their throat behind the closed double doors.
“She might not be awake yet,” a female voice said in a failed whisper.
Ellea’s heart began to race as she froze in bed. There were people outside of her doors. Were these the staff Asmodeus had worried about overwhelming her? What did they look like? The only demons she knew of were Ros, Belias, and the one she’d killed. Oh, and Dale.
“Florence,” came a familiar, harsh voice. “It’s almost eleven; she has to wake up.”
“She doesn’t have to do anything,” Florence shot back.
The sound of their voices faded as they seemed to move away from the doors. Ellea scrambled out of bed and crossed the room on silent feet. She cracked the door open and caught a glimpse of a young female shooing Dale out of the entryway. The door closed behind them, and Ellea was left alone. She closed her door and pressed her back against it, taking in the dark room and steadying her heart. She moved to the window and slowly pulled back the curtains. A large, bright sun hung above the mountain tops outside her window. If there were creatures or people out there, it didn’t show. Even this room held no life, no smell of Ros, only a familiarity in small details. A few posters hung around his room in addition to small and ancient artwork. They weren’t posters like the ones she’d grown up with; they were stitched on faded cloth. One read:
