Page 71 of The Demon Prince's Accidental Mate
The pike wavered in my grip, shock rippling through me, replacing the burning rage I’d been carefully stoking. “What?”
“I’ve never loved anyone before,” he continued, his voice steady, despite the uncertainty of his words. “I didn’t know I was capable of it. I know of the concept. I’ve seen it. But I think, I think at last, I finally understand it.”
“And you wait untilnow?” I asked as the standoff continued. “You couldn’t have told me this at any other time?”
There was silence. The Furies looked at us, then to their leader, but none attacked. They must be wary, given the bodies of the dead Furies around us and the blood staining my hands and shirt. Perhaps they thought I was more than I was.
“What?” I asked when Belial didn’t speak up.
“It’s just, I kind of saw that going differently. In my head,” he said. “I figured I would tell you, and you would gasp and then tell me you loved me or something.”
Love? Belial?
I hesitated, and my head started to turn toward him. What I would say, I had no idea, and I was never given a chance to respond. The Furies attacked at that moment, rushing in, and there was nothing to do but draw upon the demonic fury and let it fill my body and mind, guiding my attacks.
Sweeping aside the nearest pike, I lowered my shoulder like a linebacker and rushed the Fury holding it. The armor jabbed and sliced open my skin, but the impact sent the Fury barreling back down the hallway. One of its wings caught on a heavy table and whipped the creature around, bashing its head through the wooden item. I didn’t pause. I whirled on one foot, swinging the pike out behind me, even as another Fury chased after me.
She came on, pike darting in, out, and around. I backpedaled, trying desperately just to keep her from landing any blow. My reflexes were lightning quick, the only thing that saved me from immediate death.
Then I caught my ankle on the leg of the unconscious Fury and went down, flailing wildly for balance. The attacker was on me in a flash, blade to my throat.
“Yield,” she hissed.
I opened my mouth to tell her to eat a dick. But before I could, her body arched forward, and she flew past me with Belial’s battle axe embedded in her back. The pike dropped. I pushed off the floor with one hand, the demonic-infused strength enough to bring me to my feet.
Whipping the pike around and up to my shoulder, I let it fly. It caught one of the Furies in the wing just as she stabbed her pike deep into Belial’s side. Without his axe to defend himself, he was at a heavy disadvantage.
He roared as the blade struck home and then was pulled free. The Fury was vulnerable as she spun with the pike halfway through her wing. Belial grabbed her from behind as she was turned against her will and, in a mighty bearhug, shattered her body.
Two more Furies came at him. He somehow caught both spears, one in each hand. Unfortunately, there were two more, both with a clear shot at his unadorned chest.
Their blades flashed as they prepared to strike.
In that instant, I saw the death of Belial. Whether those or the ranks of guards hurrying up the stairs, it didn’t matter. It was over.
Belial glanced over his shoulder at me, and to my surprise, I saw remorse on his face. Apology. Wistfulness.
I didn’t understand. Why should he feel that way at all? There was nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I should be apologizing. For being too far away to help. For not being better help in a fight. There were all sorts of things I could apologize for. But in that instant, in my mind, he was perfect.
And I loved him for it.
The emotion ripped free of whatever shackles had kept it down, filling my heart, then my chest, and eventually my entire body as subconscious thought became conscious reason. My love for him burned bright, like a cleansing fire.
And in that instant, he knew. He knew how I felt, how Itrulyfelt, and he drew on it. In a way I doubted he’d ever drawn on any power before.
Blades darted for his chest, burying themselves deep in the flesh there. Belial roared, more in fury than pain, even as they carved deep furrows across his pecs. His eyes were still focused on me. Still locked on mine, yellow on yellow.
“Do it,” I whispered, seeing the begging in his eyes. The pleading for forgiveness. “I’ll love you either way.”
Fire and flame burst from his eyes. His skin split, spewing flames as he suddenly grew in size until he was towering over the Furies. Roaring his rage, he swept the nearest Fury aside with a fist the size of its head, crushing its body with ease.
The ceiling shuddered and caved in as he smashed his way through them while still growing. I backpedaled to avoid being crushed, watching in awe as he wreaked havoc among Astaroth’s forces.
“Your souls are mine,” he howled at the scarlet-armored soldiers. Thrusting a fist toward them, he ripped the translucent life straight from them, absorbing it into his own essence. Armor and weapons clattered on the stairs as they fell, lifeless.
An ear-splitting shriek drove me to my knees as the face of the castle was suddenly ripped away, exposing us to the outside.
Where Astaroth hovered in the air.
