Page 47 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

“You’ve made a lot of progress, more than I have, maybe, and I can’t help but to think that you are being too hard on yourself.”

“What?” I burst out. “Orcus, I ruined people’s lives! And for what? My own petty amusement? Because I wanted to stage battles like the ‘big kids?” My breath huffed out of me. “I’m starting to worry that you’ll be remiss on my punishment. I need a firm hand, not this permissive fiddle-faddle you’ve been doing.”

“No.” Orcus’s voice was a boot grinding on gravel, stopping me in my tracks. “You’re convinced that you need to be punished, but what, pray tell, could I do to you that will bring you more pain than the knowledge of what you have done?”

“I —“ I stuttered. I hadn’t any idea. It had eaten at me for years. I’d created people to suffer. I’d watched them live and strain and fight and die, all for me. I’d raged at the knowledge for years, and then spent longer finding ways to sustain my planet without my influence.

“Well, I suppose that might be true…but what are we doing here, then?”

Orcus sighed next to me. “We are…figuring out we are, who we want to be, and figuring out how to forgive ourselves.”

“Ourselves? What did you do? You were only doing what I made you to do.” I sat up to look over at him.

“Ah, but princess, you gave me free will. I didn’t need to do any of it. I’ve almost as much responsibility as you have in this. Perhaps more, because I realized first what we were doing and did it anyhow.” He smiled, the corner of his mouth raising to reveal a sharp fang. “But we can’t change any of that. We can only move forward, which is what we will do.”

“We will?”

“Yes,” he reached a clawed hand out toward mine on the bed, hesitating just beyond touching me. “I think…if we can be vulnerable, we could do, create, experience, some amazing things.”

I was mesmerized. I couldn't speak. My senses were full of him, overwhelmed with the heat of his fingers so close to mine. Of the scent of him as it wafted across to me. Of the tenderness reflected in his eyes.

Most of all, I was mesmerized by the way I felt.

For the first time in hundreds of years, perhaps ever. I didn't feel as if I needed to make sure I had a plan. I didn't worry about how I would right my wrongs or atone.

Instead, I watched his clawed hands where they hovered over mine, consumed by the anticipation of wondering if he would touch me.

And then, with a shock of heat and the slightest drag of his claw, we were touching in the most intimate gesture I'd ever felt. I'd been hugged, I’d held people, but that one small finger consumed me.

It was so slight, so gentle that I could almost convince myself that I had imagined it if I couldn't see it with my own eyes.

He touched me like the slightest amount of pressure could break me. Like I was something precious. Not to the world, but to him.

“So,” I breathed. “How do we begin?”

“I'd like to show you, if you'll let me.”

His hand trailed up my arm, tickling along its length and making me shiver. Every follicle on my body stood at attention, as if my entire being were reaching for him.

I still wore the thin linen dress I'd worn in the lake, yet it seemed years ago.

Though I was wary, I was interested in seeing where Orcus would lead me.

“Show me,” I whispered.

Leaning on his arm, Orcus shifted toward me, his weight depressing the mattress, so I rolled toward him. The heat of his skin radiated through my dress, permeating my body and warming me through.

With aching tenderness, he reached up and brushed the hairs off the side of my face. The candles flickered outside of the canopy, but the curtain shielded us from much of their light. At first, I thought that was the only reason the room seemed dark, but as I watched, tendrils of smoke raised from Orcus's shoulders, it surrounded him, a miasma—no, a halo of darkness that stretched toward me with grasping fingers. Though I couldn't see Orcus's face, shrouded as it was, the tendrils reached for me, greedy. I felt hot all over, my skin sensitized to bed sheets beneath, and the singular place he touched me.

“I'm going to restrain you now,” he spoke barely above a whisper, so I had to strain to hear him. “This will be your first lesson, Aviana.”

The slightest touch of his tendrils ghosted over my wrists. “You are mine.” The tentacles of darkness solidified, wrapping and lifting my wrists above my head. “Everything you have will be because I gave it to you. Every sensation you feel, every sound, every cry you release belongs to me. Your first lesson, princess, is what it feels like to lack agency. When it comes down to it, your pleasure, your frustration, your very power are mine. When you well and truly learn that, perhaps we can move on.”

In Which Expectations are Further Subverted During the First Session fn

I nodded my head,shocked at how easily my submission came. For more than a millennium, I have lived only to please myself, my creation consuming me in my efforts to make it as perfect as possible. I am, after all, a storyteller at my core, and I demand perfection from both myself and my creations. Testing my bonds, I jiggle my wrists. There is a small amount of give there, but only enough that I feel no pain. My brows draw down in afrown and I squint up to see Orcus's face, but still, he hides from me.

“What is it, princess?” he whispers, his words cascading over me in a wave of warmth.

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