Hellfire Crown by Meg Xuemei X.

CHAPTER 9

Tessa

 

 

 

 

 

A wave of nausea hit my center, so strong that I dropped to one knee and bent over. By sheer will, I didn’t turn my head to the side and throw up.

Before the dizziness faded, scorching acid flooded my stomach, punching holes in its lining. Agony filled my eyes.

Fucking cheating bastard!

The fucking man-whore just couldn’t keep his hands off any woman. He was incapable of staying faithful. He’d even bragged about bedding countless women.

I shouldn’t have trusted him, shouldn’t have given myself to him. I felt so sick. Look what a mess I had gotten myself into this time after letting my guard down.

Esme was a gorgeous woman with a sharp intelligence. I didn’t blame him for being attracted to her, but she was his ward, and he was mated to me!

I wasn’t special to him, not as I’d thought. I was just another woman he could use and then cast aside. Pain rocked my every fiber.

This betrayal hurt even worse than what my ex-mate had done to me. At least Ragnarö had done it in front of my face, but Loki was stabbing me in the back. While his lips whispered the sweetest things to me, he’d been fucking Esme this entire time.

I’d finally caught him with his pants down.

The burning hurt turned to red rage, terrifying and out of control and demanding blood.

Kill him! Kill them. The voice of the blood contract pounded in my head. He’s a mistake. Correct it.

I should. I would disembowel the fucker. I’d been sent here to kill him anyway. After what he’d done to me, there was no stopping me now.

Yes, the voice answered giddily. Do your job. Take his severed head to Lucifer, collect your gold, and save your kingdom and your people.

It sounded reasonable. It aligned with my interests.

Yet cold logic also sliced into the chamber of my head, icing my fury.

What if what I’d seen wasn’t real? What if this was a trick of the blood magic, like what I’d experienced last time when I rode Loki?

I had to make sure not to let the blood contract mind-fuck me. If and when I wanted to kill my mate, it’d be on my terms.

I stalked toward the couple, forcing myself to breathe in and out, forcing one foot to go in front of the other and not stumble. I kept advancing, like a predator ready to pounce.

If what I’d seen was real, I would be merciless toward them. I’d slay the King of the Underworld for betraying me, humiliating me, and breaking my fucking heart.

I was a Morrigan, the descendant of the war goddess.

Ice filled my being, my magic coiling and hissing. I was cold once again, like the ice maiden I’d been.

My hand stretched out, ready to summon the angelblade. 

As I stalked closer, rage and killing intent rolling off me, the couple turned their heads to me.

A blink.

And the veil lifted, rippling across their faces.

It wasn’t Loki and Esme, though the woman bore a resemblance to Esme. The male seemed to be half-demon, but his true scent was disguised. If they weren’t screwing like two beasts, I might have taken the time to study them.

I glanced at them one last time, just to make sure the demon wasn’t Loki in disguise. It wasn’t him, I was sure now. There was no connection between us. Even though I had followed his scent here, it was gone.

How had I misread his signature scent?

A moment of confusion passed, and relief washed over me.

My mate hadn’t betrayed me.

The half-demon didn’t slow his thrusts as he leered at me. “We have room for one more,” he invited. “Let me fuck you too. You’ll enjoy it.”

“On your death,” I hissed, shook my head in disgust, and left the scene in a hurry.

I breathed easily now. The palace was like a maze. As I reached the end of the corridor, I realized it had only one set of stairs leading to the rooftop of this wing. I’d scouted the Morningstar Palace and knew its layout. While the force of the blood contract fucked with me, preying on my jealousy, I’d forgotten where I was going.

My ineffectiveness spelled one thing: I’d fallen for the King of the Underworld and let my emotions get the better of me.

I must stay alert and watch where I stepped next.

The last thing I wanted was to retrace my steps and pass by the half-demon and his partner, but I had to. The urgency of finding Loki beat harder in me. After what I’d fooled myself into—or whatever force had caused me to see things that hadn’t been there—I needed to see my mate. I needed to touch him and feel that he was okay, still mine, and that we were real.

I retraced my route. Now that I’d discerned that it hadn’t been Loki’s scent I’d been following, the earlier wrongness returned twofold.

An unknown, malicious, and powerful presence was on my radar. It was watching me, ready to pounce from behind me. Chills crawled over my skin. It would be a mistake to run when facing a predator, so I slowed down and looked over my shoulder, my magic coiling around me as it sensed the same threat.

I’d learned to trust my instincts after being in constant danger, and I was sure I wasn’t entirely paranoid, even with all that had happened lately and the approach of the third trial.

The sense of wrongness thickened. I pulled my sanjiegun out of my boot, my knuckles white on its stick.

I stopped cold once again, facing the hallway once occupied by the screwing couple.

The demon was gone. His former fuck buddy lay in a pool of blood, half of her face missing.

My heart in my throat, icicles in my blood, I stalked toward the corpse to take a closer look.

A flash of movement and several figures appeared at the other end of the hallway. Before I could fling my wrist and toss my magic at the newcomers, Esme shouted.

The Duke of Envy and the Duke of Deception flanked her, the murdered woman between us, as they took in the scene.