The winter ball comes and goes. Ezra begged me to go with them, promising a magical night of fake snow and photos by a glittering tree. I made excuses, making Talia look at me like she didn’t believe half of the crap I was saying, but she didn’t push. Instead, I worked, volunteering to do the late. I scrubbed countertops and refilled napkin dispensers while the other staff all went home early.
At night, I sit in my dimly lit apartment with the glow of the tree Ezra helped me decorate. It’s a chaotic disaster—tacky, bright, but absolutely perfect. Glittery bows, mismatched baubles, multicoloured lights. There’s an ornament that’s shaped like a flamingo, a taco, a tiny demon with a Santa hat that Ezra insisted looked like he who holds my soul. There are presents under the tree, wrapped in obnoxiously glittery paper and aggressively large bows. One from Talia, one from Ezra, one from my boss. The kindness of it all makes my heart ache.
Christmas Eve quickly comes around,college and work making the festive period fly by in a bright, hazy blur.
I’m curled on my sofa in the same candy-cane pyjamas I’ve worn all month, blonde hair in two braided pigtails, the lights on the tree blinking quietly in the corner. The bottle is halfway empty, no longer giving me the same buzz it used to when I first started turning to wine to numb the darkness that often creeped into my mind as day turned to dusk. The Christmas movie ends, and I find myself starting to cry. Not loud sobs, just soft tears sliding down my face as I stare at the tree softly glowing in the corner of my tiny apartment. I find myself missing Aran. His soft words and his calm presence. The way he let me be human without pitying me for it. I even miss the halls of Zeriavoss—thestone beneath my feet, the smell of fire and intoxicating fruits. I dream about it constantly, because for some strange reason, I’m homesick for a realm that told me I didn’t belong.
And worse—I miss him. Korithax. Even after everything, even after his words broke me open. I wake up some nights after dreams of him, his realm, gripping my shoulder, where the birthmark hums faintly like it’s remembering something I’ve already forgotten.
Ezra had offered for me to go to his family’s house for Christmas, telling me about all the wonderful things he and his parents get up to over the festive period. Talia joined in and told me her family’s traditions also. I had smiled at them, my heart genuinely warming up knowing my friends had such amazing homes to return to. I declined Ezra’s invitation, making a lie that I had agreed to go spend Christmas with my dad. He was suspicious, constantly questioning me on the run-up to his leaving for the festive break. He knows that my relationship with my dad had been strained since my mom died, so he was shocked to hear I’d agreed to go spend my Christmas with him in his home.
Of course, I wasn’t actually doing that. Despite Christmas being my favourite time of year, this year, I wasn’t feeling very festive at all. Ezra and his parents didn’t deserve to have my bad energy bringing down their Christmas spirit. They deserved peace and happiness, not a depressed twenty-year-old ruining their holiday.
I glance at the time on my phone and drag myself up, opting to leave the rest of the bottle on the coffee table. It was time for me to crawl into bed, the thought of tomorrow filling me with dread. Maybe I’ll just sleep through it and pretend this year that Christmas doesn’t exist.
I push open the door to my bedroom, sleepily rubbing my eyes, when a presence makes me freeze entirely. I don’t even have to look up to know who’s in my room, but I do anyway.
There he is, sitting on the edge of my bed like he didn’t leave me over a month ago, departing with pure hatred pouring from his mouth. He’s sitting so nonchalantly like he didn’t shatter my entire being after having me put back together by his healers. A small box rests in his hands, wrapped in a deep black paper, tied with a red silk ribbon.
My breath stutters. “Korithax?”
He looks up, lips curling into something too sharp to be called a smile. “Merry Christmas, little flower,” he murmurs, lifting the gift with a sadistic look in his eyes.
And my world stops all over again.
Chapter 18
Korithax
The preparations for my coronation should have consumed my focus.
They didn’t. Not when I could still feel the tether between myself and the small mortal girl I’d dumped back on Earth. Aran kept me informed, of course. He always did, despite my protests, despite me telling him that I did not give a shit about her.
Daisy was alive. She went back to her college classes and back to work. She smiled when she needed to, laughing and joking with her friends. But I knew better, because I had seen it myself. In the moments when I would awaken from nightmares plagued with her tear-filled ocean eyes, I would go and allow myself to check the scrying mirror. I would catch glimpses of her life—the wine bottles that consumed her nights, the dark circles she hid under makeup during the day. I would see her mindlessly fiddling with her hands, lost in her thoughts. I hated the way she would force her way into my head like a festering wound. She was, after all, a weak, pathetic mortal. But it would appear I wasalso weak, because night after night I would find myself sitting for hours, watching her, like a crazed, obsessed stalker.
Alas,I had bigger things to deal with. My father, the ‘great’ former King of Hell, had finally fallen to permanent bed rest, his ancient body giving up under the weight of too many soul bargains, and too many betrayals. Whilst yes, we were classed as immortal, immortality didn’t last forever, just a really fucking long time. Soon, Hell would be mine. Officially and wholly mine.
I commanded the war hounds at the northern borders. I redrew alliances between some of the other realms that had grown distant from us under my father’s reign. I oversaw the cleansing of the corruption from the Welcome Circle. Some of the judges being a little too happy to send undeserving souls to the pits. I ruled, and I ruled well. A force to be reckoned with, they said. A king who would shake the foundations of the realms themselves, they said.
I was reviewing plans for the coronation when the fucking summons arrived from the Divine Six. Again. Did these assholes not tire of seeing my face, because I sure as shit got tired of seeing theirs. The amount they demanded to see me, you’d think Hell was the only realm they conjured up. Fuck knows how much time they spend sticking their noses in other realms’ businesses.
The chamberof the Six’s was as insufferable as ever. Blinding light, cloying sanctimony, and six pairs of eyes that still believed they could command me. It’s been a solid fifteen thousand years of them trying—since I was just merely five thousand years old, a small boy—I’ll give them respect for their commitment, that’s for sure.
“You will not ascend without a bride,” Seraphiel declares the second I arrive, her voice slicing through the room, angrier than usual. The others nod, silent but with heavy judgement.
I laughed, loud and bitter. “You keep saying, yet here I am, planning my coronation. It’s almost like I do not care about what you have to say.” I say, with a shrug.
Amarithe’s false smile stretches wide. “Without balance, there is no rule, Korithax. It is law.”
Law. Their favourite fucking word. They’re acting like they can’t change the law, like it’s something that is solidified in stone. I know they can change it; I have seen them do it before with Noxthrallia. The realm became so corrupt with dark magic that anything they did just went ignored. So the Divine Six chose to look the other way, because it was too much hassle to do otherwise. But I think Hell would freeze over before they did anything like that for me.
“No bride, no throne, Korithax,” Seraphiel continues.
“You may not take us seriously. But if you try to ascend that throne without a bride, your kingdom will be burned to ash,” Calrix declares, his flaming sword burning brighter to emphasise his point.
“Is that a threat?” I growl, staring Calrix directly into his glowing, hate-filled eyes.
“It is a promise, Prince of Ruin. I have seen the outcome of you not taking a bride. Time is ticking,” Velentha whispers, looking horrified at what she has seen.
