Page 59 of Unholy Fate

A figure emerged from the shimmering heat, his skin radiant and his eyes luminous. Breathtaking in his beauty, he approached me with a knowing smile.

“Lilith,” he greeted me. “I am Lucifer. I’ve been watching you.” He stroked my baby’s cheek. “I am very sorry for your pain.”

“You know of me?” I asked, intrigued by this striking being.

His laugh was musical. “Of course. Your defiance has made quite the impression. I admire your spirit, your refusal to submit to another’s will.”

Pride swelled within me at his praise. “I bow to no one,” I declared. “Not even to God.”

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed. He was a vision of beauty.

“Then join me.” He extended an elegant hand. “In my realm, you will never again be expected to debase yourself. You can revel in your power, your independence. Rule as a queen at my side for all eternity.”

Tilting my head, I considered his tempting proposal. The thought of endless autonomy, of never bending to another’s command, sang to my soul.

I placed my hand in his, electricity sparking at his touch. “I accept.”

Everything changed again. The icy air of Hell brushed my skin as I lounged on a throne of bone, smoothed and darkened by ages of flame, surveying my new kingdom. Beside me sat Lucifer, his presence both thrilling and overwhelming in its dark majesty.

The denizens of the underworld, my new subjects, gathered before us, a sea of demonic faces awaiting our command. My lips curled with wicked pleasure. Never would I be subservient. Here, I reigned supreme.

Lucifer turned to me, his eyes smoldering with infernal desire.

“My queen.” He trailed a scorching hand along my arm. “Together we will create a new race, one that answers only to us. You shall be the mother of demons, birthing our legions to spread chaos and temptation across the earth.”

Heady anticipation unfurled within me at his words, at the promise of such glorious purpose, of children born alive and healthy.

“Yes,” I breathed, pulling him to me in a searing kiss. His touch ignited my newly awakened hungers, stoking the flames of sin that now burned eternal in my blackened soul.

As we joined in carnal passion on the throne of Hell, our entwined bodies birthing nightmares and horrors, I reveled in my role as empress of the damned. The cries of the tormented were a twisted lullaby, the perfect accompaniment to my fall from grace. I had found my place, my destiny.

And nothing would ever make me relinquish my crown.

As quickly as they’d come, the visions receded, leaving me gasping on the floor of my room. My skin was electrified, every nerve ending buzzing. What did it mean? Were these truly memories of a past life or merely figments of my clearly overtaxed mind?

Unsteadily, I pushed myself to my feet. I pressed a hand to my chest, my fingers brushing the raised mark on my skin.

Questions tumbled through my mind, each one more unnerving than the last. If I was once Lilith... what did that mean for the woman of faith I’d become? For my relationship with God?

Trembling, I sank onto my bed, my head spinning. Everything I thought I knew about myself, my beliefs, my very identity, was crumbling beneath my feet. I hugged my knees to my chest, confusion and an aching sense of loss battling within me.

“Who am I?” I said, hot tears spilling down my cheeks once more. “God, please... I don’t understand. Help me.”

But no heavenly assurances came. I needed answers. And I knew where I had to start looking.

The crisp night air slapped my cheeks as I hurried down the dimly lit street, my sensible shoes scuffing against the pavement. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat urging me onward. Toward the apartment where I’d been seduced.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

LUCIFER

I strodethrough the twisting obsidian corridors of Hell. My realm pulsed with the anguished cries of the damned, a symphony that had long since ceased to amuse me.

Approaching the torture chamber behind my throne room, I saw the iron door glowing faintly with infernal sigils, locking Astaroth, who called himself Ian nowadays, within. With a flick of my wrist, I dispersed the wards and stepped inside.

Astaroth, in his demon form, was slumped against the cold stone floor. He glared up at me, his golden gaze blazing with defiance despite his obvious exhaustion.

“You’ve been busy,” I said. “Dreamwalking to Evelyn while locked away. Tsk, tsk.”

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