The Darkest Destiny (Lords of the Underworld 15.50)

Well, never again! Not the lower than dirt self-esteem and certainly not the lock-up.

The demon continued its assault, and oh, how she despised the foul, horrid creature. Demons brimmed with evil and oozed wickedness. They had no redeeming qualities and couldn’t be reasoned with. Couldn’t be satisfied or placated. Insidious, each of them, with a single purpose: cause as much pain and destruction as possible. For their hosts. For those their hosts loved.

At first, she hadn’t even noticed the fiend’s presence. Then, it had begun to whisper to her. She’d foolishly listened, allowing her new companion to provoke certain emotions. Indignation. Offense. Envy. More whispers had come. The more she’d mused on its words, the stronger her emotions became, soon creating a bond between them, making her a slave to the wiles of her greatest enemy. In the aftermath, the person she used to be—the person she should be—had gotten lost.

Focus. Think. The past didn’t matter. Viola settled into the seat. Inhale. Exhale. As awareness of the present situation returned, she took stock. A small room. No, a cell. Dank and dirty with a mud floor and crumbling, blood-stained brickwork. An array of torches hung on the walls, providing light without heat. The frigid air was putrid and infused with the scent of rot.

From a legendary vampire bar to a crappy dungeon? The insult! An exquisite female like Viola deserved wining and dining in pure luxury, nothing less.

The only other occupants: her kidnappers, the speakers. Two Fallen Ones with wings. Former Sent Ones. Only, their wings hadn’t rotted off, an act that would have stripped them of their immortality and all its boons. How certain individuals retained their wings, she didn’t know. But the rare few who did…changed.

These two had undergone a transformation, and the result wasn’t pretty.

They stood across the cell, near the bars, clad in only loose-fitting pants. The tallest had leathery, crimson skin. The other sported green flesh speckled with onyx. Both had too-prominent facial features and cesspool irises. Black wings with razor-sharp edges arched over broad shoulders. Curling claws tipped their hands and feet.

What did these males want with her? Other than the obvious, of course.

Viola exaggerated a sigh. “Listen, boys. You’re not the first misguided souls to abduct me, hoping to level up and win the most beautiful goddess ever born. Like every time before, my answer is no. I absolutely will not agree to be your captive bride, bear your Fallen spawn, and make you the happiest of creatures. Although, you do have an almost delicious muscle mass, so what the heck? A little role-playing might not be amiss. Try not to get offended when I moan someone else’s name.”

Crimson shuddered, then offered her a chiding look. “I decline with every fiber of my being. I prefer my females to be…not you.”

“Okay. Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Everyone desired her. How could they not? Forget her stunning beauty and brilliant mind. If possible. She had so many magnificent qualities. So much more to offer. Her sparkling wit and magical laugh delighted all who heard her—and also those who didn’t. Intelligent beyond words, she’d even helped her own mother birth her. And Viola had done most of the work! Forget Helen of Troy. Viola had launched two thousand ships with a wink.

Ignore the pang of uncertainty in your chest. It means nothing.

“Your ultimate fate isn’t in question, goddess,” the Fallen One announced. “Be assured, you will die today. But there’s no reason for you to fret about it. Answer my questions, and I’ll end you swiftly.”

Poor, addled soul. He believed he had the necessary power to defeat her. Her! Should she laugh now or later?

Wait. Why not now and later?

Viola laughed, and it was more magical than advertised. “A swift end sounds boring.”

He shrugged. “That is your choice. Just understand I still plan to kill you. But this way, I’ll ensure you linger.”

“Ohhhh. Yes, let’s do that.” She nodded for emphasis. “I love dramatic goodbyes. No, you know what? I think I’ll escape my bonds and murder you instead. Yes, I’ll do that. But there’s no reason to fret about it,” she added, gifting him with a blinding smile. “I’ll make it hurt no matter what you do.”

Confusion registered, contorting each male’s features as they shared a look. One shrugged, then the other. Then fury took hold, currents rippling through their wings.

“Apparently, you haven’t comprehended the gravity of your situation,” Crimson said. “Allow me to help the light dawn. The shackles prevent you from flashing, misting, or disembodying in any way. Escape is impossible for you. You are at my mercy, and I have little to spare.”

So the fetters prevented her best tricks. So what? A downer but certainly not a deterrent. So her captors had stripped her of swords, daggers, poisons and a crossbow. Again, so what? They hadn’t bothered to remove her array of jewelry. The most dangerous weapons of all.