The silence from the Angels below was deafening. I could see the messenger's jaw literally drop. They had expected a weeping girl in chains; instead, they got a woman wrapped in the arms of the Devil, wearing his colors and speaking his truth.
Athan didn't give them a chance to recover. "You heard her," he rumbled, his voice carrying like thunder across the courtyard. "Now leave. Before I decide to keep your wings as wall decorations."
He didn't wait for them to fly off. He turned me around, his hand still heavy on my waist, and guided me back inside the palace. The heavy stone doors groaned shut behind us, cutting off the cold wind and the sight of the golden pretenders.
Once we were in the quiet of the hallway, he stopped. He looked down at me, his gaze sweeping over the tight purple silk Argenta had squeezed me into. He looked like he wanted to say something poetic, but then he just shook his head.
"You're a terrible liar, Celeste," he muttered, though his eyes were dancing. "You were shaking the whole time."
"I was not!" I lied, crossing my arms. "I was... vibrating with power. There's a difference."
"Is that what we're calling it?" He reached out, his long fingers brushing a stray silver hair behind my ear. His touch made my skin prickle in a way that had nothing to do with magic. "And where is the weapon I gave you? I told you to keep it on you."
"I have it," I said, patting the side of my dress. "It's in the fold of the skirt."
Athan's brow furrowed. He looked genuinely annoyed. "In the skirt? If someone attacks you, what are you going to do? Ask them to wait while you rummage through three layers of silk to find your knife?"
"Well, I don't have pockets, Athan! This dress is basically a prison for my ribs."
He sighed, a long, dramatic sound. "Come here."
He led me into a side sitting room..a dark, plush space filled with velvet chairs and the scent of old wine. He reached into his own belt and pulled out a leather strap with a small, bone-handled sheath attached to it.
"Sit," he commanded, pointing to a low chaise lounge.
I sat, my heart starting to thud against my corset. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making sure you don't accidentally stab your own hip," he said. He dropped to one knee in front of me. The sight of the Great Demon King kneeling between my legs should have been weird, but instead, it just made my breath hitch.
He didn't hesitate. He reached out and grasped the hem of my purple skirt, sliding his hands upward.
"Athan!" I gasped, trying to push his hands away. "Someone might walk in!"
"Let them," he grumbled, his focus entirely on his task. His large, warm hands pushed the silk up, baring my legs. My skin looked blindingly white against his dark leather gloves. He kept sliding the fabric up until he reached my mid-thigh.
I felt like a total pervert again. My mind flashed back to the dream..the way he had parted my legs just like this. Only now, it was real. I could feel the heat radiating off him.
"Stay still," he muttered. He wrapped the leather strap around my thigh. His fingers were surprisingly nimble for someone who spent his day swinging a broadsword. He pulled it tight, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
I let out a tiny, pathetic whimper.
Athan paused. He looked up, his golden eyes locking onto mine. He was so close I could see the tiny flecks of red in his pupils. "Did I pull it too tight?"
"No," I whispered. My throat felt like it was full of sand. "It's... it's fine."
"Good." He didn't move his hand. His thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle against my skin, right at the edge of the leather. "You have very soft skin, Little Bird. It's a miracle the Angels didn't rub you raw with all that 'holiness' they brag about."
"Athan...ah"
"I'm just securing the buckle," he said, though he wasn't looking at the buckle anymore. He was looking at my mouth. He leaned in, his shadow completely swallowing me. "I wouldn't want it to slip while you're... practicing your vigorous movements."
The air in the room felt like it was on fire. He was so close I could feel the vibration of his wings behind him. He reached for the dagger on the table and slid it into the new sheath on my leg. The click of the blade seating home felt like a period at the end of a sentence.
He didn't pull away. Instead, he slid his hand higher, his palm cupping the curve of my thigh, his thumb brushing dangerously close to the edge of my silk underwear.
"Athan, please," I breathed, though I didn't know if I was asking him to stop or to keep going.
"Please what, Celeste?" he whispered, his voice a sinful purr. "Tell me what you want."
I opened my mouth to say something…probably something embarrassing…when the heavy oak door swung open with a bang.
"Sire! The scouts have—"
I jumped and scrambled to pull my dress down over my knees, nearly falling off the lounge in the process. Athan stood up in one smooth, terrifying motion, his wings snapping open to their full width, blocking me from view like a wall of black feathers.
Malphas (yeah THAT Malphas), Athan's head general, stood in the doorway. He was a huge demon with horns that curled like a ram's. He froze, his eyes darting from Athan's furious face to the pile of purple silk behind his wings.
"I... uh..." Malphas stammered, his face turning a dark shade of grey.
"Malphas," Athan said. His voice was so low it made the floorboards vibrate. "Is the palace on fire?"
"No, Sire."
"Is the Sky Kingdom currently falling on our heads?"
"No, Sire."
"Then why," Athan stepped forward, his eyes glowing a violent, bloody red, "are you standing in this room while I am busy with my wife?"
Malphas swallowed so hard I heard it from the couch. "The scouts... they found a rift, Sire. I thought it was urgent."
"The only thing urgent right now is your need to leave before I rip your tongue out and feed it to the gargoyles," Athan growled.
"Right. Yes. Leaving. Tonguelessness avoided," Malphas squeaked. He backed out of the room so fast he nearly tripped over his own cape, slamming the door behind him.
Silence returned to the room, but the mood was broken. Athan stood there for a second, his chest heaving, his wings slowly tucking back into place. He looked at the door, then looked back at me.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I need to hire smarter generals."
I started giggling. I couldn't help it. The look on Malphas's face had been priceless. "He looked like he saw a ghost."
Athan looked at me, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "He saw a King who was about to lose his temper. There's a difference."
He walked back over and offered me his hand. "Come on. If I stay in here with you any longer, the kingdom really will fall apart, and I'll never get anything done."
I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. I could feel the weight of the dagger against my thigh..a constant, secret heat.
"Athan?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for the strap," I said, trying to sound brave. "It's... it's much better than the skirt."
He leaned down, whispering in my ear one last time before we left. "I'll show you how much better it is later tonight. Don't take it off."
Fuck— my heart did a backflip.