Asmodeus - Demon of Lust: Pt. 07

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Will she choose to stay with the demon?
10k words
4.65
35.2k
102

Part 7 of the 9 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 09/29/2012
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steelkat29
steelkat29
381 Followers

A/N – My dear readers! Thank you to everyone who has emailed me with your praise, encouragement and ideas! I love you all dearly and you keep me writing whenever I feel like throwing my laptop away. It is because of you that I present in all its ten thousand word glory; PART SEVEN!! As always PLEASE rate, comment and email me! I love hearing from you guys and I will reply to every email. Happy New Year!

Cheers,

Steelkat


My bed is much too hot, burning my skin through the soft material of my pyjama bottoms and making my feet sweat. I kick at the covers and free my tortured legs, allowing them to dangle off the side of the bed. Fresh air caresses my feet, but the relief isn't enough to cool my bothered flesh. Huffing with frustration but reluctant to open my eyes, I kick at the flannel pants and manage to get them off.

Sighing with sleepy content, I snuggle into the covers further, my feet still sticking out from under the duvet. Just as the irresistible weight of sleep settles over my eyes again, something wet and rough scratches against my big toe. The sensation is so unusual that I jolt awake only to find the golden eyes of Nala, my tabby cat, staring back innocently, as she is caught in the act of licking me. With a soft purr, she jumps onto the bed, kneading her claws into the duvet. I feel the pressure of her paws on my thigh beneath the covers and, startled, I sit up so quickly that she bolts, flying off the bed and through a white door.

A strangled gasp escapes my tense lungs and my heart races as I take in the beautiful familiarity of my bedroom. I feel as if I have been on a perilous odyssey, journeying to lands afar, for years unknown. This room should be forgotten, yet it is exactly as I remember it, with my bookshelf in the corner, stuffed full of romance and fantasy novels. How I'd wished to be a part of those worlds. The DVD rack stands beside it, displaying rows of blockbusters and TV shows. Empty canvases lie beside a wooden easel, just waiting for me to breathe life into them. Completed works colour the walls, claiming this space theirs, claiming it mine.

I'm home!

I spring out of bed, tugging my pants back on, then chase my skittish cat down the hall and scoop her up into my arms. I give her a little squeeze, hugging her tightly but mindful that I do not hurt her. When she voices a muffled meow of protest I laugh delightedly and drop her onto the soft carpet.

No more hard earth and falling rocks! No rapists or demons! No magic or power! Just the wonderful regularity of the human world. Boring, predicable and safe.

I shriek my joy!

It isn't long before the lights flicker on and my father steps out from his bedroom, tattered baseball bat held tightly, my mother clutching his arm in her fear. I'm so ridiculously happy that I pounce on them, hugging them both as if they'd disappear the moment I let go. The bat thumps softly against the carpet floor and my dad pushes at my vice-like grip, trying to look at my face.

When I finally give in and let him hold me at arm's length, he stares at me with a concerned expression, reading my face.

"Selena?" he asks, looking slightly alarmed.

"I'm back," I croak, the words rushing out with a river of tears.

Mum steps past the protective shoulders of her husband and pulls me into her embrace, holding me the way she used to when I was a child. The nostalgic comfort this brings me only increases my tears.

"What's wrong Lena?" she asks desperately and I hear tears thicken her own voice, "Tell us what's wrong so we can help you my baby."

I don't understand her reaction. I'd expected relieved sobs and frantic questions regarding my disappearance, not puzzled looks and reassuring hugs. My confusion crescendos when mum asks me if I'm feeling sick. Unsure how to respond, my tongue locks and I look back at her stupidly, grasping for an explanation for this bizarre encounter. Surely they would have noticed that I was gone for five days?

My father seems to have gathered his wits by this point and he pulls my mother away.

"What do you mean you're 'back'?" he asks, looking as confused as I feel.

Realisation dawns on me as I process the implications of such a question. My parents have absolutely no knowledge of my disappearance. Could it be true? Could it all have been a dream?

"A dream," I whisper.

"What was that babe?" my dad asks, suspicion colours his tone.

"I'm so sorry dad; it was just a dream."

"Then why were you crying?"

"It was an awful nightmare, I'm sorry I woke you two up."

"What are you doing?" a male voice whines at my back.

"What's with all the noise?" calls another, female this time.

I twist my body toward them slightly, throwing a quick glance at the fatigued figures of my older sister and younger brother.

"It's nothing," I tell them, "Go back to sleep."

I hear a gasp from my mother and turn back to her horrified face. My father's face has drained of colour but as I watch it surges back, an angry purple flooding his cheeks as his eyes harden. His hand strikes out and clamps onto my arm, squeezing so tight that my eyes water.

"Ow, dad! What are you doing?! Let go!"

"Shut up!" he roars, "Who have you been seeing?!"

My mother cries silently behind him, eyes wide and jaw slack.

"What are you talking about?!" I scream back, frightened at how quickly this situation has changed.

"You know damn well what I mean! Stop acting stupid and answer the question!"

"Dad, I really don't know what you're talking about! I woke you up because of a nightmare, I swear!"

But he isn't listening, he's still firing questions at me; where have I been? Who was I with? How long have I known? They all blur together and my mind reels from the assault.

A few questions slip through the haze though and I catch them from the endless stream.

"Who have you been seeing?" he asks again, "Who's the father?"

The father? The question falls like a stone to the pit of my stomach. Of their own accord, my hands drift toward my belly. I press them down, hoping to feel a soft, yet flat abdomen but begin to realise with a sinking certainly, that hope is not always fulfilled. I run my hands gently over the bump there and fall to my knees before the eyes of my family, sorrow closing my throat.

My father is still questioning me but I tune him out again and rake my nails against the threads of the carpet, needing to feel something, anything, to awaken me from this hollowness which grows as I think my next thought.

It wasn't a dream.

* * * * *

My own sobbing wakes me and the tears burn my cheeks. I am enveloped by strong arms, pressed against the hot body behind mine but this brings me little comfort. I want to feel the warmth of my father's hugs, not the heat of my lover's. Just when I think that I have finally accepted my place here, a single, crushingly vivid dream crashes through my fragile tolerance and I feel my heart ache to be safe and sound at home. I cling to Asmodeus' steely forearm, needing to be held, even if it is by the wrong person.

"I want to go home!" I moan, burying my face into his shoulder.

"You cannot, my Selena," is his impassive response.

"Why?!" I shriek, shoving at his arm, hopping off the bed and turning to glare at him furiously, "Why not?! Why did you choose me?!"

He is silent while I continue my rant.

"Why, out of the billions you could have picked, did you choose me? What the fuck have I done with my life that could possibly warrant such an honour?" I snarl, disgusted.

My fury escalates as he watches my agitated pacing silently.

"Well, since you're not sharing, why don't we play a game? I'll try to guess a reason and you tell me if I'm getting warm." My palms feel hot and itchy, I rub them against the dress I slept in.

"Hmm, let's see, did you choose me because I was a virgin?" I ask, but I'm not really looking for an answer from him. My anger has boiled out of control and I couldn't care less what he has to say in this moment.

"No, that can't be right, there are still millions you could have chosen from. It must be because you think I'm pretty, right? Let's have a look shall we?"

I face the nearest wall and curl my fingers inwards, drawing a mirror out of it to the sound of cracking and wind-chimes. I stalk closer and scrutinise my face and body in its surface. My fury shatters the glass before I turn back to the demon, who now stands beside the bed.

"Nope, that's not it, I see nothing special there." I watch as he grits his teeth at that comment. Like he should care what I say about myself, I mean nothing to him. I'm just his breeding bitch.

"I know what it is!" I exclaim suddenly, "It has to be the fact that I'm the most pathetic human being you could find. All alone at twenty with no future partner in sight, you thought you were doing me a favour right? Let's save poor, fat, worthless Selena from a life of misery."

"Enough," his low, hard voice resonates authority and he closes the space between us.

"Well guess what lover, you failed." I continue, poking his chest with my finger for emphasis, "You've taken me away from the only people who have ever cared about me and forced me to become, what? Your whore? Your wife?" I scoff with derision.

"Yes Selena, my wife!" His outburst is as sudden as mine but ten times more shocking. "Why is it so unfathomable for me to possibly love you?! Do you really think so poorly of yourself?"

I'm so stunned to see the fierce passion in his eyes that my mouth gapes open and my mind is too slow in allowing a response.

"You think that I carried you here out of some misguided attempt to save you? From what? A lifetime of misery? Is that truly how you see your future? What are you fighting to return to then, if all you have left is loneliness and self-pity? Is it truly inconceivable that I chose you because of who you are and not out of mercy?"

His voice softens a little and his gaze breaks away from mine. He looks ashamed almost, bowing is head in uncharacteristic defeat.

"I have done you a great disservice, Selena," he whispers, before turning his blazing eyes back toward mine, "Not because I have saved you from your life, but because I have stolen you from it."

There is a bitter sorrow which weighs down his entire frame and I can't help but be sympathetic.

"You know as well as I that you were destined for a noble life on Earth. You would have helped others, as is your beautiful nature. You would have found yourself a human husband who would have loved you, I know that. You would have had human children. And I have taken it all away."

More tears blur my vision and my voice is raw.

"Then why, Asmodeus? Why did you bring me here?" I beseech him, reaching up and holding his face in my hands.

Anger clouds his features and I take a step back, hugging my arms close.

"I was weak! I was selfish! I brought you here not by my choice. I stole you because I simply had to have you; I saw her light in you. Selena, my soul met yours at the birth of humankind. A true testament of my adoration would have seen you living on Earth still, content in your new body and with no knowledge of my existence," he chokes on the next words, "But I am weak and I have loved you always, my Elysia."

Elysia?

"Have you not wondered why you never found a human mate? Did you merely cast if off as fastidiousness on your part? No, my love, there has been no other because your soul craves only mine, just as surely as mine hungers after yours. We were mated once, when you were known as Elysia."

His eyes are tender, swirling pools of lava, somehow expressing more emotion than anything he has said thus far. But I am numb to it and this realisation constricts my chest.

Why don't I feel anything?

"No, that isn't possible, you've got the wrong girl." I protest against this latest disclosure half-heartedly, voice hollow. Am I disbelieving just because it is expected of me? I can't honestly say that this new information shocks me and the thought that I have become so accepting of my fate is terrifying.

"I would find your soul in deepest pit of hell my love, I know you are the woman I crave."

"Woman?!" I laugh humourlessly, "I'm just a child to you! Six days ago, I'd never been touched by a man and now I'm carrying your baby! What makes you think that I'm ready to deal with that, let alone your revelation that I'm supposedly your lover from another lifetime. You robbed me of this life."

He closes his eyes as if in physical pain.

"Of that I will be eternally remorseful, but my choice cannot be undone. I swear by everything in my power that I will keep you safe from pain and sorrow."

"How Asmodeus? Everything you do causes me sorrow and pain. Did you think that chaining me to a rock would make me love you? Or using me as a bitch for your offspring would make me feel important? Did you think I would melt in your arms when you told me that I am your lover incarnate? How can you truly love me, Selena, when all you think about is her? I don't know or care if we share the same soul but I am not your Elysia."

I suddenly realise why the feel of him touching my swollen belly made me so angry and dejected. Heat pricks the corners of my eyes.

"If you love me so much, how could you treat me as if I were nothing but a vessel for whatever you have planned for our baby? How could you make me care for you and then act as if all that mattered was the fact that you'd gotten me pregnant? You broke my heart just when I was beginning to think that I could trust you; when I was beginning to think I could love yo-"

He cuts me off with a kiss, his warm lips moving desperately against mine. It's as if he wants to prove his love, showing me where words fail, exactly what I mean to him. He pulls me in close and just like that first night, my heart jumps at the feel of his fingers pressing into the soft skin of my waist. I should be mad at him, but I'm tired of being angry and he makes it so damn difficult to stay that way. Then again, he also makes it easy for me to get mad in the first place.

But right now, I feel only heart-pounding excitement as I mould my body against his. Could he be telling me the truth about Elysia? Had I really loved this demon in a past life? It would explain my affection for him now, when by all rights I should hate him with everything I possess.

When we break apart, he smiles his wicked smile but his eyes are soft. When his hand slides down to my belly though, the smile vanishes and his eyes darken with unconcealed pain.

"You bore me a son once, as Elysia. It was my proudest moment and we lived together in peace for one human lifetime. It may seem like a long time to you my young bride, but to the immortal it was but a moment."

"What happened?" I whisper, uneasy with the way this conversation is headed, yet compelled to hear the rest. I rub the gooseflesh from my arms and feel the hair at the back of my neck prickle as he continues.

"You were both murdered," he moans, "stolen from me in a wave of jealousy and greed. A demoness, who was my betrothed, became vengeful that I had taken you as my bride rather than her. She killed you to spite me and while I mourned your loss she hunted our son. He was on Earth when she slaughtered him, performing the task for which he was born.

"I took my revenge, but ending her brought me no peace. I was alone and I believed that I always would be, until I felt her soul spark in you at your conception, and I knew then, before you were even born that I had to have you. I waited until you were physically and mentally mature. Twenty years is naturally but a blink to me yet I remember every agonising second from the moment you were conceived until the night I brought you here. That is the extent of my desire for you."

"Elysia," I insist, trying not to think about the fact that my fate was decided before I was even born, "You love her, not me."

"You are her and you are not. You are the joining of two halves. I did not love her for her body nor her mind - although both were as beautiful in her as they are in you; I saw in her a light which bathed my own soul and transformed me from a bitter, arrogant creature into a being capable of great love. She made me feel as if I could defy my fate and ascend into the glory of Creation. And you Selena, I feel this when I am near you. I sunk into the cavernous depths of depravity when she was killed and I know that I would not survive losing you. Is that not enough of a reason to believe that I love you, for being you? You are Elysia just as surely as you are Selena, it would be impossible for me to love one without the other."

He sounds so earnest, as if he is genuinely trying to make me understand.

"So you're saying that you love me, not because you think I'm your Elysia but because you love our shared soul? You're not expecting me to be her, but you know that no matter how different our personalities, we're both manifestations of a singular spirit – one which you're crazy about? Is that the gist of it?"

He smirks at the impatience in my voice.

"Yes, my eternal love, that is the 'gist' of it."

"Right," I say, dazed under the enormity of it all. That is, until another thought occurs to me.

"You speak of this undying love for me, yet you hold me here against my will," I say, tilting my head to the side, curiously watching his reaction to my words, "If you love me as much as you say, then it wouldn't be a question of whether you are strong enough to let me go; you simply would."

He says nothing, just closes his eyes and scrubs a palm down his face, as if he's been awake for an age, longing to let sleep claim him.

"So what is it then, Asmodeus?" I ask, hand on hip and eyebrow cocked, "Do you truly love me as much as you claim?"

His eyes open and fix on me with a heat that melts my insides. His gaze is fierce but when he speaks he sounds tired and pained.

"Of course I do Selena. After the child is born, you may leave if that is your wish."

A prickle starts at the back of my neck and shudders through my entire frame. This is not the way I expected the conversation to turn. I asked him this not because I truly expected him to listen but rather as a way to prove to both of us that he doesn't love me as much as he thinks he does. Given his response every other time the subject has been broached, I find it difficult to believe that he's suddenly had a change of heart. There's no way he's telling the truth!

He can't be, after all the time he spent waiting for me, all the trouble I've caused him, every effort on his part to make me feel as if I had no other choice; he can't seriously be giving me a get out of jail free card.

No way.

But when I search his eyes, I do not find a lie, only a steely determination which barely covers the pinched look of loss.

He's being deadly serious; he's really giving me the choice and he seems sure which one I will make.

Two thoughts flit through my mind at this realisation. The first is ridiculous and pathetically warm; he really loves me. The second is smarter, calculating and triumphant; this is my chance! I can leave!

But why does the thought fill me with dread?

"Alright," I whisper, and I hear the hollowness in my own voice because I don't know what else to say.

"Alright," I repeat, louder this time, deciding what I want as the word forms against my teeth. I need some time alone and I tell him this.

He does as I request, with only a lingering look back at me as he leaves, showing his reluctance. I understand, to some extent, his desire to stay with me after all that has been said and I'm pleased that he pushes it aside for the moment, allowing me a brief respite.

steelkat29
steelkat29
381 Followers