The Dark God's Bride

by Dahlia Lu

  Turning from the windows, Noctis found the mortal girl sleeping soundly on the sofa. She was where he had thought she would be, drenched in another man’s scent. Just looking at her sent him through a spiral of blind rage. The sight of her irritated him more than ever.

  His eyes narrowed on her nude pink lips with a disturbing urge to claim them with a possessive kiss.

  As if on cue, the Archangel materialized into the room with newly regenerated bones for a left arm. His soul weapon was by his side. His blue eyes immediately darted to the girl, as if to see if she was still breathing.

  Not for long.

  “This is unlike you, Lucifer. You are not completely yourself.” Before the archangel could lift his sword, Noctis froze him inside a time trap. He walked up to the Archangel and observed his lustrous, platinum sword. Ragnarǫk the Destroyer – one of the two legendary weapons powerful enough to slay the gods.

  Noctis reached for the weapon, but it rejected him, forcing him to recoil back. Apparently, it can only be wielded by Lucifer himself.

  Noctis reached out for it again, this time bracing himself for the pain. Electric shock traveled through his veins, searing into his flesh. With a menacing chuckle, he yanked the weapon right out of Lucifer’s hand.

  His attention returned to the girl lying peacefully on the sofa. He held the weapon over her chest and studied her face one last time. He only needed to drop the sword and it would end her fragile and pathetic existence. Just a drop of the sword and everything that was her would evaporate in an instant. His revenge would reach completion. Lucifer would get his just due.

  The wretched sword was causing severe damage to his organs. He lifted the sword over his head and lunged in toward her. It missed her by half an inch and impaled into the leather seat.

  His breathing quickened. The excruciating pain must have misguided the sword. He had never missed an unmoving target only inches away. He had never shown mercy, nor had he ever hesitated to take a life.

  On the second attempt, he wrapped his trembling bare hands around her neck.

  Just a little more force.

  Her dark lashes sprung open. Bewitching, grey eyes gaped at him.

  Noctis violently recoiled and drew back in dark realization. It struck him like a bolt of lightning from above. He shook his head in denial as he watched her leap up from the sofa.

  “What are you doing here?” She shouted at him. Her fingers nervously ran over the sapphire necklace. She caught the vision of Lucifer from the peripheral of her eye and slowly turned. “Oh god, what did you do to him?”

  She sprung from the sofa and rushed to the Archangel. Her hands reached for his face. “Tr…” She halted. “Are you alright?”

  His vision darkened with vicious jealousy. Denial gripped him.

  My sanity has vanished!

  The Archangel blinked when the time spell wore off and instinctually pulled the girl to his back.

  Noctis sneered. The gesture of protectiveness sickened him. It was all wrong. He was standing on the wrong side of the room.

  Vanished!

  He had consciously let go of the perfect opportunity for vengeance.

  Gone!

  The more Noctis contemplated the situation, the more he became convinced that he’d downright lost it. He deliberately let go of the only chance he would ever have at serving retribution to the man who had imprisoned him for the first half of eternity, and all for that frail mortal woman staring back at him with scornful fright in her hauntingly beautiful grey eyes. Something was dreadfully wrong with him.

  The mortal kept no secret about her practice of magic. Could she have enchanted him? He dismissed the thought immediately. The possibility of that was nonexistent. Her abilities, though impressive for a human, were laughable for a god such as himself. It wasn’t the only thing about her that was laughable either. Whatever was happening to him was no work of magic, although he sincerely wished that it was.

  Strings of thoughts clashed together when he saw her repulsively clinging onto another man for protection. His male pride had never felt so wounded. Suddenly, the state of his mind no longer mattered. Staring into those mesmeric, greyish blue eyes, he knew he wanted her for his companion. If he must be a madman, he would rather be one with what he wanted.

  “Ragnarǫk!” The Archangel called for his weapon. The sword transferred to his right hand. They shifted to the other side of the room before Noctis could summon another time trap. He dodged several more before the girl staggered and held onto the Archangel’s waist for balance. His eyes emitted a faint glow.

  Noctis diverted his eyes immediately. “Playing mind games, Lucifer?”

  “I wouldn’t have resorted to that if you hadn’t abused your time spells.”

  “Fair enough,” Noctis agreed as he lit two white flames in his hands. “But I must warn you. You have something to protect while I do not.”

  “Leave her out of this,” The Archangel said. “Your quarrel is with me.”

  “It has always been.”

  “I will not fight you here.”

  “Lead the way, Lucifer.”

  “No!” the girl protested. “Where are you going?” She shot a glare at him. “Don’t you dare hurt him!”

  I will do more than just hurt him.

  The archangel disappeared to another location.

  But that can wait until later.

  Noctis grinned when his eyes fixed on her. He closed the gap between them. The transition was a blur. She backed against the wall in nervous trepidation. He caught her hand and teleported both of them back home.

  “You…you tricked him!” She cried.

  “I did,” he admitted shamelessly. He backed her against the wall once again. “Not everyone can do that.”

  “Why have you taken me here?”

  “I don’t know why myself,” he replied truthfully. A hand cupped the back of her neck in an unmistakable sign of possession. His other hand cupped her face. His expression turned painful when his thumb brushed by her lips. His body was throbbing agonizingly, reacting the same way it had when he had first laid eyes on her. In breaking words, he professed, “Completely lost my mind. Want you.”

  It took several moments for her to process his words.

  She shoved him back, but her strength failed to move him an inch. Large, grey eyes flared up at him. “You tried to kill me like not even ten minutes ago!”

  “I did not succeed.” His voice was severely coarse.

  “Well obviously or else I wouldn’t be standing here! I would have to be the biggest idiot ever to believe this lie!” Cynically she asked, “What are you planning this time?”

  He wished he knew. “Mortal. Stop talking.”

  “But…”

  He closed his mouth over her parted lips.

  Amara stood in a blatant state of shock. The color flushed from her face when she felt his surprisingly soft lips on hers. His tongue brushed by her lower lip, gently stroking it, before venturing deeper into her mouth. Static electricity filled the air and ignited tiny ephemeral sparks. Nothing had ever felt like it. Nothing had ever felt so right.

  Just as she was about to surrender to the enthralling kiss, reality dawned on her. She remembered who and what he was. She remembered his intentions. She remembered his ruthlessness when it came to what he wanted. She was just a pawn in the grand scheme of things.

  Her body trembled from anger, from fear, and from shock. Those emotions overwhelmed her to tears. They slid down her cheeks and into the corner of her mouth. The sweetness of the kiss was blending in with the bitter and saltiness of tears.

  He jerked his head back. The bafflement in their eyes clashed with one another.

  He puzzlingly stared at the tears on her cheeks. “What… what are those for? Mortal, I did not hurt you this time. Why are you shedding those tears?”

&
nbsp; Because I’m very angry with you and I can’t do anything about it!

  “Why would you care?”

  “When I ask a question, I expect an answer. I demand an answer!”

  His large frame froze in tensions. His pale blue eyes impatiently interrogated her. She debated whether or not she should tell him the truth. The reason for her tears seemed to be bothering him a great deal. She suspected he was weak to women’s tears, and why not, it had always been women’s greatest weapon.

  “You tore me from my lover’s arms, forcing me to be your prisoner against my will, and you ask me why I am crying?”

  Good start, Amara.

  A flame flickered in his pale blue eyes. “You want me to express remorse for what I did? I cannot. I will not. I am waiting for a chance to do worse to him.”

  “When will it be enough?” She whispered. When will I be free of your hatred?

  “Even in your worst nightmares, you cannot even imagine the shadows of what Lucifer has put me through. When will it be enough, you ask? It will only be enough when I take from him everything he has ever held dear. It will only be enough when he curses his own eternal existence.”

  “Starting with me?”

  He hesitated before he said, “Yes, starting with you.”

  The predicament she found herself in gave her a wicked headache on top of the one she already had.

  With a grim expression, he snatched her hand and led her to the bathroom. He turned on the faucets to the shower and pushed her under the spray.

  “It’s cold!” She shrieked, instinctually trying to escape the cold water. He blocked the exit and held her in place. “What are you doing?”

  “Wash that revolting scent of off you. It’s driving me crazy.” With no other choice, she quickly turned the ‘hot’ faucet all the way on. The water warmed up quickly. “What scent are you talking about?”

  He was squeezing a whole bottle of liquid soap on her body. He tossed the empty bottle aside and stepped out of the glass shower. “Clean yourself properly or I will not let you take one step out of this bathroom.”

  “You psycho…!” She picked up the empty bottle and threw it at the back of his head as he was exiting. She swallowed and drew back when he halted. He turned around. His piercing blue eyes immobilized her where she stood.

  “Your belongings and new wardrobe are in the closet where you left them. I didn’t touch anything.”

  “Okay…?”

  He closed the door behind him as he was leaving.

  She exhaled a painful breath. Her hands flew to her racing heart. That overgrown man scared the living soul out of her and she grew up within miles of where mythological creatures dwell. His mental instability was a one part of it. She didn’t know when he would snap.

  Her impulsiveness didn’t help the situation either.

  After a refreshing shower, Amara revisited her walk in closet. It was filled with things she bought from her shopping trip and there were still boxes unopened. She thought it funny that there were more clothes here than in her cramped closet in her apartment. She picked out a rose colored, silk night gown and slipped into it. The material felt so incredibly soft against her skin that she could already imagine how fast she would fall asleep in it.

  She returned to the bedroom and Noctis was already settled in bed with a book in his hand.

  Amara climbed onto her side of the bed, as she had done many nights before, and brushed her hair with the hairbrush she’d left on the side table weeks ago. She didn’t know what was more unnerving – the fact that she’d gotten used to sleeping next to him or the uncanny feeling that this was what married life would be like. She decided that both were equally disturbing.

  He closed the hardcover book and set it aside. She gasped when he suddenly pulled her toward him. He leaned to her neck and inhaled deeply. He had a satisfactory grin on his face that was all too masculine.

  “I assume the scent you spoke of is gone? I scrubbed…”A rough hand traveled up her leg. Alarmed, she shrieked, “What are you doing?”

  “Seducing you,” he replied flatly, pressing the lightest of kisses on her neck. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”

  “Why are you seducing me?”

  “I want you,” he grated against her ear.

  He was actually making an advance on her. Should she be frightened or proud that this gorgeous male, the same male who repeatedly claimed to be too excessive for her, now desired her?

  He was a mass of contradictions and she was a conflicting mess.

  He continued the titillating kiss where they’d left off. She wouldn’t have protested if the hand on her thigh had not shoved the silk skirt up over her hips. She wouldn’t have minded if it was only a kiss, but female instincts told her that it would lead to more. She knew he wanted more than she could give. She could not risk him knowing the truth.

  Too much was at stake.

  She jerked back and would have cracked her skull against the headboard if his hand hadn’t cushioned the back of her head in time. She sat up right and straightened her shoulders. “Are you resorting to rape? Because that’s the only way you will have me.”

  “I have never taken a woman against her will.”

  “Never…?”

  With every ounce of conviction, he nodded. “Never...”

  “Well, then keep your bloody paws off of me.”

  “I will not force you, mortal. Your body will beg for me. You will come to me willingly and beg me to take you.”

  “That will never happen,” she said, accompanying the statement with dry, mocking laughter.

  She caught her breath when he drew her to him. Her hands lay flat on his warm, hard chest to keep distance the between them. The stare of his piercing, blue eyes made her shudder. The intensity of the moment made her entire body ache. She veered her head to the side, so that he would not be able to detect the newly visible blush on her face.

  “Really…?” He inquired with a knowing smirk. “I see an entirely different future.”

  “I belong to another!” She lied. Anything to dissuade him...

  His icy, blue eyes were dangerously glittering with simmering rage. “I am not so insecure a male as to let that stop me. What do you think I was expecting? A virgin…? I will make one correction. As of this minute, you belong to me. Make no mistake about that.”

  “I don’t even like you,” she muttered.

  “Your feelings are completely irrelevant.”

  She frowned at the hurtful statement. “But you said you wanted me.”

  “You do not need to repeat everything I say, mortal. I know what I said. What does your opinion of me have to do with anything?”

  “You are frustrating me!”

  “Which part do you find frustrating?”

  “The part about…” She didn’t even know how to put it into words. “Argh…!”

  She fought, wiggled, and struggled away from his arms. She snapped her head onto her pillow and tugged the stubborn comforter over her head. She thought that he was starting to like her, maybe even care for her, but he only thought of her as a conquest or worse, a piece of property he’d acquired.

  There goes my pride… crumbling like a cookie.

  “Don’t touch me!” She clipped out. As if that would ward him off.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Forgive me for stating the obvious, but from my way of looking at things, you’re clearly the villain.”

  Noctis looked up from the book in his hands, gave a careless shrug, denied nothing, and resumed reading again. He looked divine in simple black. It defined his masculine frame and brought out the intensity of his blue eyes.

  “Why don’t you ever deny it?” She asked, as she pointlessly circled the chair he was sitting in. She liked the flow of her new layered, peach colored skirt and how it gave her steps an appea
ling rhythm.

  “I can’t argue with sensible observations.”

  “You should defend yourself. Say something like…” She cleared her throat and mimicked his tone. “I have my own reasons. A lowly mortal like you would never be able to comprehend the profound logic of a god.”

  He drew his brows together, eyes still fixed on the pages. “We’ve spent more time together than I’d thought.”

  She tightened her lips to prevent a smile. “Nobody truly sees themselves as evil.”

  “I am beyond good and evil.”

  “Of course you are.” Her voice was dripping sarcasm. “I heard about your rampage. You’ve made more enemies in the last couple of weeks than a normal person accumulates in a lifetime. Are you enjoying your infamy?”

  He declined to comment.

  “What are you reading anyway?” She peered over to the book that had his attention since last night. The book was titled Twilight of the Gods by Julian Knowles.

  “Leisure materials,” he replied.

  “Don’t think that I don’t know anything. You’re reading about the fates of mythological gods. Why the sudden curiosity? Are you… dying?”

  He inhaled a deep breath to muster patience. “No,” he gave a short and simple reply.

  “Come on, you can tell me.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not going to cry.”

  He looked up from the book and met her eyes. He rasped, “Mortal. You spike my blood like nothing else.”

  “I will take that as a compliment.”

  “It is not a compliment.”

  “I will take it as one anyway.”

  He rolled his eyes halfway. “Sit down. You are making yourself dizzy.”

  “I need some exercise…” she replied, as she tripped on the carpet, lost her balance, and headed for the ground. Her hands reached for his knees to break her fall. From her angle, she saw something between disappointment and self-loathing in his eyes. She didn’t know what those two things had to do with each other, or how they could have been valid responses to her fall.