For the Hell of It (Razing Hell Book 1)

by Cate Corvin

  We crossed the divide from the Nightside of Dis to the bright half. The midnight sun beat down on my skin, the next breath of wind against my face hot and dry. The golden idols of Heresy winked below in the scarlet light like bloody, beckoning figures.

  “What do you call this half?”

  “This is the Brightside,” he said. “The better side.”

  Arcturus plunged downwards towards the Seventh Circle, his hooves seared black with the ash of his flames. From above, Belial’s arena was a massive, sprawling architecture, the roof’s battlements rising in spines of obsidian. Little demons were crawling over the roof as his warhorse approached, unrolling the banners of their master.

  Behind the arena was a carefully-cultivated field of scorched grass, shielded from the rest of the Circle by the walls of the arena. As Arcturus eagerly lunged towards his home, Belial’s grip on my waist loosened.

  “Meet us down there, angel. You touch the arena first, I leave you alone for tonight. You lose, you come with me.”

  My breath caught in my throat, and he opened his arm. I launched myself from Arcturus’ back, spreading my wings wide and catching the scorching blast of a thermal.

  Muscles I hadn’t used in a week murmured a protest, but the stretch ached in a good way. Arcturus galloped in a circle around me, but even with Belial’s bet, I couldn’t resist looking upwards through the void of a sky.

  Heaven was up there. If I wanted Gabriel, I’d need to burst through, but the climb was so much harder than the fall.

  Belial raised his chin. “I know you can’t resist. Try it.”

  I stared at him in astonishment, then tore upwards, taking the chance he’d offered me.

  My wings beat the air hard, carrying me so high the entire great bowl of Dis began to look like a disfigured blot on the landscape. From the sky, the line of demarcation between Nightside and Brightside was even more obvious, a vast scar cutting across the city.

  I took a deep breath as the air grew thinner, my muscles aching. Despite the lack of oxygen, the air didn’t seem thin at all. It felt thick, like beating my wings against syrup, every sinew in my body screaming in protest.

  I couldn’t fly past the midnight sun.

  I tried until sweat sprang up on my skin, futilely trying to push past the sky, but it held me back.

  I’d sinned far too much since I’d fallen. Even from a thousand worlds away, Heaven’s wards worked against me. It didn’t want me.

  My teeth gritted together and I gave a last mighty surge before spiraling back down, taking the path of least resistance.

  Once I was free, I’d have all the time in the world to fight against Heaven’s resistance.

  Belial didn’t gloat or laugh when I swooped back down to their level and wiped a hand across my brow. “I tried.”

  “The bet stands, angel.” He held out a hand to the arena far below like a gentleman. “Dare to wager?”

  Despite my disappointment, I pasted a grin on my face. There was always a next time. “I dare. Bring your best.”

  Arcturus snorted smoke, his hooves prancing in a cloud of flame before he burst into a gallop.

  I banked towards the arena, then tucked in my wings and plummeted in a straight shot.

  For a moment, I was neck and neck with the warhorse. Its rolling gold-fire eye glared at me accusingly, and smoke blew from its nostrils.

  The Circle rose around me and my wings shot outwards, slowing my descent at the last second.

  Arcturus landed in the field of blackened grass, and happily kicked up a cloud of ashes as the flames around his hooves guttered and died.

  I landed on the cleanest patch of ground I could find.

  Belial rode past me on Arcturus, who was clearly prancing for my benefit. I raised my chin as the horse passed, flicking his crimson tail at me.

  I pulled it at the last second, horse. Don’t feel too proud of yourself.

  “You seemed so confident you would win against Arcturus.” Belial dismounted, and for the first time I realized he hadn’t bothered to use a saddle. Several imps poured out of a stable, descending on Arcturus with brushes. One fed him a still-glowing coal like it was a treat, using iron tongs to hold it to the horse’s mouth.

  My wings flapped, scattering a cloud of ashy gravel. Arcturus’ field looked more like a volcanic plain than a pasture.

  “I must be out of practice,” I said blandly, and for a second, I thought Belial’s sharp eyes saw right through me. “And fuck your prancing pony. If you let me fly more, I could beat him every day.”

  Arcturus gave me a dirty look.

  “I was wondering when you’d tell me and mine to get fucked. I was worried Azazel had softened you up.” Belial strode through the ash, and I barely had time to fold my wings before he scooped me into his arms again.

  “Was a whole twenty-four hours without it a torment for you?” The impish demons hurried to open a door for their prince as Belial carried me into the cool quiet of his palace. “Let me make up for it: fuck you, Belial, and fuck the horse you rode in on.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, but his arms were almost tight enough to hurt.

  So jokes hadn’t dispelled the rage.

  The hallway that shifted so unnervingly opened on his chambers. The wall had barely closed behind us before Belial placed me on his bed and began unbuckling his plate armor, shedding it one piece at a time.

  When his leg plates fell to the floor, he looked at me with a mix of rage and lust in his eyes.

  Whatever softness he’d just shown me was sealed behind a wall again.

  “You are sure that Satan didn’t see you?” he asked, his eyes glittering dangerously.

  I pushed myself off the bed, refusing to stay in such a vulnerable place. “I’m sure. Azazel wouldn’t allow me to fly. Vyra told me about the Brides, and I have no intention of allowing myself to become one. I’d rather be a prisoner here than be subjected to that.”

  “You look… happier,” he said, frowning as he looked me over. I crossed my arms over my chest, scowling back. How like him to screw up what had been a perfectly nice conversation. “What did they give you that I can’t give?”

  My temper, slowly fraying since I’d discovered I was unable to fly free to Heaven, snapped.

  “I’m sorry, what?” He prowled around me and I turned in place, my glower feeling permanently etched on my face. “What you can’t give? I’m your captive, Belial. You branded me.”

  I held up my hand accusingly.

  There was no way I was going to let him beat me down. Azazel and Lucifer had been… different. Very different from my expectations. I would be a fool to completely lower my guard, though.

  But for the first time since I’d fallen, I had a small flower of hope to nurture that I might be able to use my magic again one day.

  But Belial wasn’t like them. He ran on love and war, fucking and fighting. Magic wasn’t his providence, nor was trust.

  He was straightforward, a bull with lowered horns.

  “I give you weapons,” Belial snarled. He stopped in front of me and raised my chin. “I give you bloodshed. I give you a safe haven. I want you to fly.”

  There was a streak of ash smudged across his chin. I resisted the urge to wipe it away.

  “You keep me locked in a cage,” I said bitterly. Annoyingly, Azazel’s words had hit home somewhere, as pissed as I was at him for comparing me to a useless little bird. “All the blood in Hell can’t make up for that.”

  “Oh, I’m such a cruel jailer,” he whispered, his grip tightening on my jaw.

  I planted my hands on his chest, telling myself I didn’t feel the hardness of muscle under his shirt, that it had no effect on me.

  It was a lie. Another sin to credit to my growing account.

  “You’re a fucking bastard who trades me away,” I spat. “You didn’t even ask, but of course you didn’t. Why would you? I’m just another player in your games.”

  I shoved him, but he barely moved. It was like
trying to shove a boulder.

  The next time I put all my force into it, but he caught my hands.

  “Do fight me, Melisande.” A dangerous purr had come into his voice, and his eyes glittered. “Let all that rage out. See where it takes you.”

  I was abruptly aware of the large bed just behind me. How tempting it was to smash into Belial, and see how powerful he might be…

  But there was someone I needed to see. Someone bearing one of my feathers, and I wasn’t ready to let go of my anger with Belial for making a deal that took me away from him.

  “No, you fight me.” I glared up at him. “In the arena.”

  His lips parted in astonishment. “You want to fight me in my own arena, angel?”

  I jerked my hands out of his grasp, putting a healthy distance between myself and the bed while he was still surprised. “I do, but not as one of my rounds. Just to see what it’s like. That would make me… happy.”

  Belial slowly turned in place, an eager expression pushing through the rage. “Would it?” he breathed.

  “I want to fight the Prince of Wrath on his own territory.” I felt behind me for the blank stretch of wall. “I want to see how good I am compared to you. That’s something no one else could give me.”

  He grinned, his tan skin glowing like bronze. “Then it’s yours. But, angel…” He stalked forward, and my stomach gave a little flip. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m nowhere near done with you.”

  Belial grabbed my waist before I could fly away, pulling me into a kiss that tasted like whiskey and fire and spices. I couldn’t hold back a moan as his tongue slipped in my mouth, remembering how his fingers had felt sliding into me, and my clit throbbed.

  It took everything in me to cling to the irritation and dig my hands into his shoulders, pushing myself away. “But I’m done with you right now.”

  If I didn’t leave now, I was going to end up in that bed.

  “I don’t think so,” he growled, sending pleasant chills through me.

  “I do,” I whispered, halting my struggles. The harder I fought, the harder he got. I felt his cock pushed against my belly, throbbing insistently. Belial’s lip twisted in an animal snarl, and I pressed my fingers over his mouth.

  “The first time I fuck you, Belial, it’s going to be after I beat your ass in front of your whole Circle.”

  His snarl became a grin, and he kissed my fingers before pulling my hand away. “Not at all, angel. It’ll be after I bend you over my knee and spank you… in front of my whole Circle.”

  “You. Wouldn’t. Dare,” I breathed, but my muscles were already tightening with anticipation of the coming fight.

  I desperately wanted to know where I rated against a prince of war.

  And when I did give in to Belial, I wanted to be wild with the energy of battle, the bloodlust singing in my veins.

  “I like this bet.” He kissed me again, hand sliding over my hip to my ass.

  I wriggled out of his grasp, breathing heavily and well aware that I was about to break that bet. I fluttered out of his reach, reaching for the obsidian and thinking of my quarters.

  It slid open and I skipped inside.

  Belial leaned against the open doorway, his arms flexing deliciously as he braced himself. “One last thing, angel.”

  His gaze was on one of my small, downy feathers. It’d come loose and drifted to my floor.

  “Why did you give the Nephilim your feather?”

  I picked up the small piece of down, spinning it between my fingers. “I just thought it’d be a nice thing to do for him. He’s…”

  I choked back the words I wanted to say. He’s my only true friend.

  Despite my unasked-for warmth towards Belial, I knew he could be capricious. If he deliberately took Tascius away from me, I didn’t know if I’d survive the walls of the arena alone.

  “You didn’t know what that meant.” Belial’s voice was flat, making the question into a statement.

  “It was a token of luck. What else would it mean?” I looked up from the feather and stared at him.

  Belial’s lips twisted in a smile, but there was anger beneath it. “There’s so much Gabriel never taught you.” The muscles in his arms tightened, like he was going to launch himself at me and attack, and I instinctively braced myself.

  He grimaced, pushed himself away from the open door, and it slid shut.

  I looked at the feather in my hand.

  What hadn’t Gabriel taught me?

  18

  Melisande

  I washed and pulled a clean pair of training clothes on, ignoring the ache in my body from the lack of Belial’s rough touch. Vyra still hadn’t returned to the Seventh Circle to dress me, and I found myself wondering why my head felt so light. I’d gotten accustomed to the braids and jewelry far too fast.

  The common room was empty, and I quickly crossed and tapped on Tascius’s door. No one answered, but it was unlocked when I tried the handle.

  He walked into my quarters all the time. It would be hypocritical of him to complain.

  His bed was empty, and I even sidled up to the bathroom and knocked again, but got no answer.

  A hollow thud reverberated through the obsidian floors, followed by a muffled roar, and I realized where he was: the arena.

  The relief that coursed through me was almost staggering.

  I hadn’t let myself consider anything other than that Tascius would be waiting when Azazel returned me, but the fear that he’d lost a battle permanently had etched itself in my brain as I prowled his empty chambers.

  I glanced at his bed, wondering if I should just wait for him, when the door flew open and bounced off the wall.

  Tascius stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, still gleaming with sweat and streaks of blood. His braid had come undone, silvery-white hair falling over his shoulders. My feather was still entwined with a thin braid.

  His eyes were completely black.

  “Friend,” I breathed, but my last words to him came back to me. I invite you in.

  I’d invited myself in. Right into the beast’s lair. There were only two ways to bring him back to himself.

  The unfulfilled ache Belial had stoked to life inside me was a roaring fire now. I swallowed, steeling my nerves, and Tascius stepped into the room. He slammed the door shut behind him like an automaton, throwing the lock without even looking at it.

  That dark, inhuman gaze never left my face as he stalked forward.

  I raised my hands to grab him as he picked me up and threw me on the bed. I barely had time to gasp before he was on me and the sound of ripping cloth filled the air.

  He tossed aside my mangled shirt, mouth all over my lips and throat. Tascius’s growl was beast-like as he licked and kissed down to my breasts, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue over it.

  My whole body responded to the forbidden touch like I’d been electrified, jerking off the bed. I grabbed his biceps to keep myself in place, and he made a noise in his throat, dragging his tongue over my stomach.

  My pants didn’t stand a chance. They seemed to shred at the seams as he stripped them off me, mouth searching between my legs.

  I instinctively tried to close them, but he gripped my thighs and forced them apart, holding me open for him.

  When his tongue found my clit, I realized that everything I’d been told about the sin of lust was absolute fucking bullshit.

  Delicious heat spiraled through me. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would explode right through my ribs, galloping faster when Tascius’s tongue slid into my pussy, finding me already wet.

  I reached out and gripped a handful of his hair, the muscles in my legs quivering as he licked and sucked. When I pulled a little hard, my muscles spasming against him, he raised his head and bit my thigh, teeth grazing skin with only the tiniest touch of pain.

  He climbed over me like a panther, eyes still dark, and shoved his pants down. The thick length of his cock slid against me, par
ting my folds, and I gripped his shoulders hard, taking a deep breath and bracing myself.

  Tascius plunged in, his hips driving forward until he bottomed out. I curled around him, letting out a harsh cry, almost a scream, against his neck. The soft silkiness of his hair brushing my face seemed a thousand miles away from the pressure of his cock filling me, stretching me around him.

  He braced himself on one arm, grabbed my face, and forced my mouth open for his tongue, swallowing the rest of the sound. Heat and a hint of pain seared me as he pulled out and thrust back in, the pistoning force of his hips shaking my entire body.

  I bit his lip and tasted blood. Before I could apologize through my gasps, the dark-eyed Nephilim pulled out of me, his cock shining wet, and flipped me over.

  Harsh hands grabbed my hips and pulled them back. I felt him line himself up and sink back in, pleasure fluttering inside me before he started pounding.

  My fingers clenched convulsively around handfuls of his sheets. “Tascius…” I whimpered his name, and he fell forward, covering my body with his, plunging into me with slower, driving thrusts.

  He slid his hand over my back, his touch tickling the smaller feathers near my shoulder blades before he wrapped his arm around me.

  His growls and grunts filled my abdomen like drums, and his fingers found my clit, swirling over the sensitive flesh when I finally moaned. He stroked me as his pace built again, but this time the violence didn’t hurt. Every time he plunged deep, he teased my clit, sending tendrils of heat into my belly.

  The pressure built inside me, so much like the bliss that Belial had pulled from the depths of my soul.

  I found myself pushing back against him, seeking the blows of his hips against my ass, craving the fullness of having him inside me. His growls became silkier, sensing my need.

  His cock hardened and pulsed. I groaned into the sheets when he pressed down on my clit, driving me to the edge, and he thrust in hard, angling his hips up so I felt every inch of him.

  The feeling of a supernova exploding ripped through me, shaking my limbs. I screamed into the sheets as I trembled under him, my pussy clenching around him in a vise, and Tascius buried his face in my hair, gasping against my neck.