Descension: A Dark Apocalyptic Romance (Hell's Angel Book 2) by Olivia Boothe

Author:Olivia Boothe [Boothe, Olivia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Brothers Press
Published: 2023-10-09T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SAMAEL

Beleth stood, eyes scanning mine with confusion until they finally filled with the realization of his blunder, terror darkening his cerulean pupils. “Spoils of war, my liege. To win against the Heavenly Host, we need empyrean armor and steel.”

There was no disputing his logic; however, him showing up in full royal army regalia grated against my already blistering skin. Right now, he was standing before me as my emissary, not my champion. “There are no archangels here for you to battle,” I said, teeth clenched as I settled my goblet on the table.

“Apologies, my liege. I should have considered—”

“Sit,” I said. “I’ve had a feast prepared in your honor.”

His throat bobbed, but he remained unmoving.

Arching a brow, I leaned back. “Are my laurels not to your liking?”

Pulling out a chair, he positioned the helmet on the table and took a seat opposite me. “Your hospitality is most gracious.”

I filled his goblet with wine and placed a plate before him as I took a plate for myself and began adding cheeses, nuts, and fruit. He eyed the food with trepidation, reluctance etching across his brow. “Is my food no longer good enough for my Horseman of Death?” I asked as I put a grape into my mouth.

His gaze met mine. He understood my challenge. He’d been restored and had been walking in the mortal realm for almost two years, free to exploit its earthly pleasures, including the satisfaction of a full belly. I needed to know where his loyalties rested.

Taking a sip of the wine, he swallowed deeply. “I’ve missed our court gatherings. I wish I’d had the opportunity to return sooner.” His curt smile failed to hide the way his nose crinkled. Seemed he was no longer accustomed to the repulsive aftertaste left on the tongue by Hell’s unholy wine.

I broke off a piece of bread from the loaf sitting before us and nibbled off a bite. The taste and texture of crumbling ash disintegrating in my mouth forced me to drink from my goblet. I swished the wine around, pretending to savor it for added measure, before gulping it down. No matter how many eternities one could spend here, there was no growing accustomed to the taste of Hell’s food. No one could ever miss eating trash.

I remained silent as I popped another grape into my mouth. Patronization usually resulted in a trip to The Breaking Wheel.

The silence in the room grew heavier and Beleth tapped his fingers on the table. Fuck ups were rarely tolerated in my court. With a resigned breath, he finally said, “If I’ve caused you reason to doubt my commitment to this war…”

Taking a long, serrated knife from the table, I carved a slice of meat off the roasted pig splayed out on a platter next to him. “What I doubt is your competence. Malphas and Astaroth are dead. Chemoth, your own brother, has been suffering with a putrid wound which might claim his spirit as well.”

I slurped up the chunks of pork, thinking back to the debauched feasts I used to hold at the citadel.

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