Slay My Soul

When Asmodeus’s knot has gone down enough to extract himself from Eve, he continues to cradle her slumped form in his arms for the remaining time he has left with her.

“She’s perfect,” he says, quietly tracing her face with his hand.

“Is it always that intense?” I ask, curious. It looked almost painful toward the end. I never knew orgasms could be so intense. For a moment there, I was genuinely concerned for her safety.

“No, only during mate claiming, or when our women are in season. The rest of the time, it’s optional. Vanilla, as the humans call it,” he replies, eyes never straying from her face. We could have done with him during Eve’s heat. He would have sated it with one fuck!

“At least with her scratching up your arms, it looks like she fought you. Being passed out will also help when the king returns,” I say thoughtfully. “Make sure you are either looking like you’re still trying to attack her, or away from her to show your lack of care. It won’t look good if you are cuddling her. At least all the screaming she was doing could be interpreted as non-consensual if anyone was listening.”

“I will not violate her body when she is unaware,” the demon scowls. “I will act indifferent, as much as I hate it.”

“Good, because time is up,” I caution.

The Demon sighs and kisses her forehead, then lays her on the ground. He stands over on the edge of the circle closest to the back of the cell re-dressing himself. The clack of shoes on the stone steps echoes through the dungeon. Show time. Asmodeus crosses his arm and forces a bored face.

“I’m surprised to see her in one piece and breathing,” the King says, surveying Eve’s naked and bruised form. He won’t be able to tell what’s from the beating she took earlier and what’s from Asmodeus. A guard unlocks the cell. “Give her to me.”

“I’m not done playing yet!” Asmodeus growls. “She passed out before I was finished.”

“You can have your toy back soon. Give her to us now, or I will call Belestine and make you obey,” the king demands. The Demon bares his teeth but shoves Eve dispassionately to the circle edge by the door. She stirs and groans as the guard quickly yanks her out and throws her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. Instead of taking her back to her cell, they head back toward the stairs. I look at Asmodeus alarmed and find his eyes looking equally worried.

“I’ll follow, and let you know what they are doing,” I say, following after Eve. He nods discreetly.

They carry her up to the throne room and chain her arms to the two posts in the center of the room leaving her kneeling, arms spread wide and head lolling on her neck. Men leer at her slumped naked form. If I had known she would be put on display I would have made Asmodeus dress her. I growl and wish I could solidify and gouge out all of their roving, lust-filled eyes.

The king takes his seat and nods to a guard. The guard carries a bucket over and dumps its contents on her head. Eve jerks awake, screaming as her skin reddens and blisters. I roar with anger. Concentrated wolfsbane, it has to be. My poor baby girl!

“Thank you Eve for joining us for this demonstration today,” the king begins. “As you all know, we have been working on a cocktail to poison our weapons with and Eve has kindly offered to be our guinea pig so we can test the latest batch. Thirty-nine should be plenty thank you, Stefan.” He motions to a different guard while I’m left wondering - thirty-nine what?

The guard goes to a bucket where a thick handle hangs over the edge. He lifts the handle carefully and slowly pulls out a long wet barbed cat of nine tails. If I was still alive the blood would be draining from my face right now in horror.

The guard gets into position behind Eve and winds up his arm before letting the whip fly. The wet sound of it hitting and the tearing sounds of her flesh as he pulls it back sickens me. Eve’s jaw is clenched tight as she screams, not quite silently through her teeth.

“One,” calls the guard. Before letting number two fly. And then I realize. They are giving her thirty-nine lashes.

“When this is done, we will march on your pack lands,” the King declares. “Your people will see the weak broken woman you are. They will see they backed the wrong horse. Their disappointment in you, your failure, will be the last thing they think of before we slaughter them all. Your fight is over granddaughter. I have won!”

The whip continues to fly, Eve’s skin hangs in strips from her back, and her screams are no longer suppressed. I’m on my knees begging the Fates to make it stop. Dry sobbing since my eyes are no longer able to truly cry without a body to produce tears. By the thirty-first lash Eve’s voice breaks. Her mouth is just stuck open in a silent never ending scream. I crawl to her and plead for her to hold on. Her eyes are unfocused. But she turns her head to me and her lips mouth my name. I startle. She knows I’m here. Whatever is drenched in the whip is killing her. She’s on the cusp, a type of limbo with a foot in each world.

“No, you don’t baby girl!” I scream at her. “You don’t get to die now! You hold on, you keep fighting!” Her body goes limp, her breathing shallow just as the guard hits her one last time, declaring the thirty-ninth stroke.

“Is she alive?” The King calls out. The guard stalks over and feels for her pulse and nods.

“Barely, but yes.”

“Back to the drawing board gentlemen,” the King says disapprovingly to three men in lab coats. “If it was remotely effective it would have killed her in the first few strikes. No one is going to willingly stay still for you to hit them multiple times. Take her back to the cells,” he directs the guard. “Someone find Belestine and rally our forces. It’s time to end this pathetic war and bring on the new era.” The king gets to his feet and strides off. Hardyn moves forward and helps the guard unlock the chains.

“I’ll take her, you’ve got a war to get ready for, I don’t. I just got the prisoners to babysit,” he says monotoned. The guard nods and shoves her toward the torture master. Hardyn surprises me by leaning down and gently lifting her over his shoulder, trying to not touch her back. He is careful not to jostle her as he makes his way down the stairs.

“Demon?” he calls as he carefully speeds towards Asmodeus’s cell. “Please tell me you have some sort of healing ability!” Asmodeus looks at Eve in horror, mouth gaping. “Can you heal, Demon!” Hardyn demands, voice urgent.

“My saliva has a clotting agent.” Asmodeus rasps. Hardyn carefully passes Eve to the Demon.

“Get licking boy, do what you can. I’ll see what else I can find.” The torturer sounds nearly frantic and takes out his phone to make a call. I don’t pay attention to what he’s hissing down the phone, my focus is entirely on Eve. Asmodeus lays her on her stomach and immediately starts licking at her back.

“She’s lost too much blood, she needs to feed on blood, it will help her heal,” I whisper yell to Asmodeus. My head pivots as I hear a cell door opening and Hardyn starts dragging out some scrawny rogue he’s just knocked out. He drags the man into the Demons circle, not even hesitating to enter. Thankfully Asmodeus realizes he’s trying to help and doesn’t attack him. Why he’s helping is beyond me. Maybe she did make a friend of him.

“Sit her up boy,” Hardyn orders, slitting the wolf’s wrist and pulling Eve’s jaw open. Asmodeus massages her throat to make her swallow. “Her mate said this was her best chance.”

We all sit there with bated breath watching Eve closely. My shoulders sag with relief as her fangs suddenly clamp and she starts to feed in earnest. Her eyes flutter and I get in her line of sight and then move to the left, but her eyes don’t follow me.

“Baby girl,” I call to her. But she doesn’t acknowledge me, her eyes flick to Hardyn and she smiles as she feeds. I smile too. Eve has both feet on the side of the living again