The Old King and the New Bride Ch. 01

The rest of him is just as striking. Fawn-brown hair lies perfectly across his head, just long enough for the strands to brush against the tips of his ears. His face is expertly chiseled, the angles of his face so sharp and straight I'm afraid I'll bleed if I touch him. His lips are full and soft, his nose straight as an arrow and his jaw strong. His cheekbones could cut glass.

His body is as mystifying as his face. His flesh has been loved by the sun just enough to tan him to perfection. The muscles of his chest and stomach are carved without being absurd. Strong biceps and slender shoulders compliment each other perfectly. He's wearing soft, ripped jeans and nothing else. Even his feet are bare. A pair of enormous jet black wings are folded against his back, the feathered tips splayed out on the marble floor. They gleam in the sunlight, tiny flecks of indigo and ruby shimmering along the surface of the feathers.

He's beyond perfect, and I suddenly feel incredibly insignificant.

His succulent lips turn up in a warm smile, and I have to take a deep breath to make sure I don't faint. He's absolutely gorgeous, yet undeniably sinister. That's a deadly combination if I've ever seen one.

He nods, and says 'I do." I briefly wonder why he'd say such a strange, random thing. Then I remember why I'm here and my stomach does a double back flip. We're at the part of the wedding where we agree to our marriage. I've been staring at him for so long I've missed the entire opening ceremony.

"Miss Harlowe?" The priests' soft voice breaks me out of his hypnotic gaze.

I shake my head and turn to him. "Yes?"

He cocks an impossibly bushy eyebrow at me. "Do you take Lucifer to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Do I?

I contemplate saying no, then dismiss the idea. That would just get me in trouble, perhaps even getting my family killed. I sigh to myself and nod, forcing a smile.

"I do."

The priest smiles and nods. "Would the couple like to say a few words?"

"No!" I bark without thinking. I want this over with as soon as possible. The fewer delays, the better.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Lucifer nod in agreement. He and I have different reasons for skipping this par of the wedding: he wants to consummate our marriage as quickly as possible and I want to get the hell out of here. Our minister is shocked for a moment, then collects himself again and nods, clearing his throat.

"No vows then, I assume?"

I shake my head. What am I supposed to say? That I really don't want to be here and that I hate my mother with every ounce of my being. I don't think that would go over well.

Lucifer also shakes his head. "The rings will do."

God, even his voice is perfect. I don't stand a chance.

The priest nods again. He motions for the best man - best demon, actually - to bring the rings forward. The hulking hellion steps forward, opening his massive palm to reveal two shining silver rings. The priest reaches out and grasps them from the demons' hand, though beyond his passive expression I can see fear flicker through his eyes. The priest turns to us again and asks us to each take a ring.

"You shall now exchange rings to symbolize your eternal affection and loyalty to each other," he announces.

I swallow, my throat suddenly tight. Besides knowing I'll have to kiss Lucifer at the end of this, this is the part I've been dreading the most about my wedding. Exchanging the rings symbolizes that we belong to one another. It will make our union real.

The priest blesses the rings then turns to Lucifer and asks him to place his ring on my hand. He smiles at me and reaches for my hand, holding it gently as he slides the slender silver band over my finger. It's a beautiful ring. Sterling silver, no doubt, and carved with tiny intertwining vines.

The priest turns to me and instructs me to do the same. I manage to move my arm, reaching out to hold his hand steady. I'm shaking out of nervousness, making my aim go from bad to awful. Still, I manage to set my emotions straight and slide the matching ring onto Lucifer's long finger. I pull my hands back, gripping my bouquet so hard I'm snap some of the dead stems and the flowers tumble to the floor.

Following Lucifer's own request, the priest brings forward a small candle for us to light. It's black as a startles night, ridiculing the sacredness and purity of our marriage. He hands each of us a match, and we light it together, symbolizing our unity. My hand trembles as I light the small flame, and I wonder if setting the church on fire will get me out of this.

The priest takes the candle thanks God for our loving union, asking for us to have a long and happy marriage. I can't even imagine how pissed the old geezer must be right now. To see his rebellious son mocking him in a marriage to an innocent human girl...the old man must be causing a volcano to erupt somewhere.

"Buy the power vested in me," the priest announces to our audience, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Oh no.

My gut twists. This is the part I've been dreading. We have to kiss. I sigh inside myself, silently cursing my mother. If it wasn't for her and her damn deal, I would be back home studying for my final exams and gearing up for Spring break. But no. She's ruined my entire college experience for the chance to see the English throne. What an incredible tradeoff.

"You may now kiss the bride."

I sigh and bite my tongue. As much as I detest having to kiss this beautifully sinister fallen angel, I come to the same conclusion I've found before: it will be easier and safer to just do it and get it over with.

I look up to see him smiling at me, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement. He steps forward, halting just a few inches away. He towers over me, gazing down at me with ravenous eyes. I can feel the icy chill radiating off his skin and a shiver slightly.

He pauses, allowing me to take one last deep breath to steady myself. He may be the master of Hell, but at least he has a little bit of chivalry in him. He closes the final few inches between us, wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a deep kiss.

My heart nearly stops. His lips are icy, soft and smooth as satin against my own. His mouth tastes of honey and chocolate and every other decadent flavor I can imagine. I manage to close my throat off for an instant, cutting off an involuntary moan. I can understand why Leyna wants him so badly. He's' beautiful, powerful and delicious.

I have to catch myself before I fall into him and completely give in. I want to walk out of here on my own two feet, not carried in his arms like a ragdoll because I got an overdoes of his kiss.

His moist tongue teases against my mouth, barley running over the curve of my lower lip as he contemplates ravaging me here and now. He pulls back, though, and never invades my mouth. We both know this isn't them time or place for such a ballsy display of affection. That will come later.

Satisfied that our bond is sealed, He pulls away, still holding me in his arms as he smiles down at me again. My head is spinning from that kiss, my body suddenly craving more of him. My stomach clenches in hunger. I mentally shake myself. I can't want him like this!

No! Bad body! No!

The priest asks us to turn and face our guests, giving me time to collect myself and get my emotions under control. Lucifer grasps my hand and turns to our audience, taking me with him. I stare out into a sea of humans and demons. Hundreds of pairs of eyes stare back at us, excited and relieved. I've done my job and nobody was killed. Success.

Unfortunately, not everyone is so happy with our new union. From the corner of my eye I see Leyna staring at me. She looks ready to eat me alive, yet she doesn't dare. I'm Lucifer's wife now. If she attacks me, she can kiss her perfectly formed ass goodbye. The rest of my bridesmaids don't give me the evil eye of death. Most stand silently, smiling and happy that their ruler has finally found someone new to torment. A few stare at the ground, disappointed that I have their coveted place.

Oh, ladies. If I could switch places with you and cheer you on, I would.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Humans and demons. I give you the king and queen of Hell!"

The congregation erupts in applause. Some cheer, some stand and clap wildly. My mother sits in her seat, dabbing at the tears spilling down her cheeks. Tears of joy, not sorrow or regret. She's realized what I figured out this morning: Not only is she now married into British royalty, but her daughter now rules Hell. To my mother, that's a double dose of wealth, power and privilege.

I scowl at her, furious. I knew I was her collateral if she's flaked on her deal. I never expected her to use me so freely. My mother now stands passes over Leyna on my list of people I hate.

Lucifer steps down off the small platform we're standing on, turning back to me as he tugs at my hand. I snap out of my planning for how I'm going to kill my mother and stare back at him, flustered. He smiles and tugs at my hand again. I nod vigorously and step down cautiously. I saw Evalyn, one of my maids, almost trip on the skirt of her dress as she walked up the aisle and I'm terrified I'll actually complete the foul-up.

Yes. God forbid I embarrass myself now.

Once I'm on the carpet, my equilibrium stars to sink back in. Mentally, I'm still in shock that I now have Lucifer as a husband, but I'm no longer too stunned or frightened to speak or move fluidly. I have better control of my emotions now, and I manage to force a warm smile.

In the few heartbeats I have to think, I spot my mother sitting down in her seat, smiling at me and wiping away her power-happy tears. I smile back, a slow, evil, vengeful smile that rears its ugly head less often than Halley's comet circles Earth. She see it, and her face drops. She knows what I know: She's screwed me over in the most putrid way possible, and I'm eventually coming after her for it.

My evil train of though is interrupted by none other than my new, loving husband. Following tradition, he steps forward and scoops me into his arms, turning to carry me down the aisle. I sigh and relax my body, hanging limply in his arms as he makes his way to the doors of the church.

My head hanging over his arm, I watch as our audience stands to follow us out. They're walking on the ceiling to me, all of them upside-down and laughing. From this angle, it looks like they're laughing with frowns and floating above the earth. A bubble of laughter escapes me as well. This whole thing -- the marriage, the contract, the people -- it's absurd. This would be a fantastic comedy sketch if it weren't real.

We exit the church, stepping out into warm sunlight and a cool autumn breeze. At the bottom of the fantastic staircase leading up to the church sits a gilded carriage that would make Cinderella throw a tantrum if it weren't so menacing. It's all black -- the wheels, the straps, the carriage itself. It's trimmed with lush red velvet and has delicate gold filigree detailing around the edges and on the steps.

I perk up a bit, taking in every beautiful detail of this hell-bound limousine of death. It's stunning, but horrifying as well. But as ominous as the carriage is, it's the horses and coachman that really freak me out. The horses are enormous, as black as the carriage they pull. Their eyes are red as blood, and their hooves send a shower of sparks flying when they tap the ground.

The coachman sits motionless stop his platform, his billowing black cloak whipping around him in the soft breeze. His tattered top hat sits perilously on his head, as if it may fall off and disintegrate at any moment. At the sound of our approaching crowd, he turns to look at us as we approach. His face is pale, bloodless and hollowed from centuries of ageing in the pits of fire. Eyes the color of swamp water stare out from deep sockets, piercing and cold. He nods to us, touching the brim if his ragged hat.

I shiver. He's the most horrifying thing I've seen since watching "The Blair Witch project" when I was ten.

Lucifer begins to descend the staircase, thankfully taking care not to jostle me around too much. I appreciate his kindness, but I'm still cautious. He is the Devil, after all. How much can I trust this creature knowing the reputation he has?

"Tarioc!" he calls out with his incredible voice.

The coachman nods again and cracks the slender reins in his hands. The gilded door to the coach swings open, revealing the luxurious fabrics and décor on the inside. It's all dark velvet, rich satin and stained wood. The crimson curtains inside are drawn, making it look even more sinister.

No sense of modesty, I see.

Am I surprised? Not really. My dress is just as ambitious and outspoken as the carriage. Besides, it's Lucifer. What else would I expect than the highest quality and most expensive? Yet another 'fuck you' to the old man upstairs.

We reach the bottom of the steps and head straight for the carriage. I look back and see the rest of our party has declined to follow us. Mom, Richard, Daniel and Marcus wait on the side of the steps, watching us as we leave. Well, Richard and mom are watching. Daniel and Marcus look as if they're about to toss my mother into oncoming traffic.

Everyone else waits at the top of the stairs, waving and calling out stupid, unfunny comments. I'm confused. Shouldn't they be following us for the reception?

"They're not coming with us?" I ask

"Yes, but not yet." His voice is like melted chocolate poured over ripe cherries and covered in fresh caramel. "We'll meet them back home. But first, I believe a reception and food is in order."

Home.

The word echoes in my head. Not the home I grew up in, not the house I played in. My new home. A world of fire, pain and screaming souls that will never quit whining. That's where I'll be living for the rest of eternity. Oh, the joy. I'm so excited to live there I could almost jump out of his arms and run screaming down the street.

Cautiously, Lucifer climbs the step of the carriage, careful to maneuver me so I don't smack my head on the elaborately pained wood. Still, I involuntarily pull my head in. I don't trust him that much just yet. Once inside, he turns to set me down on one of the plush seat cushions. He's still holding me, which means I'm devoid of any balance. I grip his arm for an instant to steady myself, feeling his icy, smooth flesh under my fingers.

I find my equilibrium again and rest my back against the cool wood of the carriage. Lucifer takes his seat across from me and smiles, his bright golden eyes gleaming in the darkened room of our ride. He snaps his fingers and the coachman's reins crack again. The door swings shut, cutting off any contact I have with the outside world.

Tarioc cracks his reins a third time and the coach starts to move. It's smoother than I'd expected it to be, as if we're riding on polished glass. I peer out through a crack in the curtains and watch as our guests start to move toward their own carriages. I hadn't seen the rest of the hellish rides before; they'd been pulled around behind the church, waiting for ours to depart.

I settle back into my seat as we continue on our way. Through the small space of the window, I can see cars passing by us on the small, narrow streets. I wonder if they can even see us in our carriage.

With nerves wracking my body, I stare down at the handful of dead flowers in my hands. My nervous shaking has gone away, but my heart is still pounding. I'm now married to the most deviously infamous character in Christian theology, so I've got plenty to be nervous about.

"That's a lovely dress."

I look up to see him staring at me, a slight smile on his perfect lips. He's crossed one of his legs over the other and balances his elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his palm as he gazes at me. His feet are bare, yet I can see a sticky black slime coating the bottom flesh of his foot. It drips off in small globs, sizzling softly as it lands on the floor of the carriage.

Gross.

I swallow. "Thank you."

His lips twitch. "I'd love to see it unbuttoned."

And we're off.

I pull back an inch, my eyes widening and my cheeks flushing. He's certainly straightforward. No petty compliments or time-consuming flattery. Nope. He's ready to go. I'm horny, and you look sexier than hell. Let's do it now.

I clamp my mouth shut. What do I say to that? Does an appropriate response exist for such a statement?

"Would you allow me such an honor?" His brows rise an inch, expectant.

I'm again rendered speechless. Most of the guys in my life who've wanted to date me usually started slower and waited for me to say I was ready. Lucifer has turned the waiting game on its head and stepped up to the plate in a way only he could. I'm out of my element here.

"I-I don't know." My heart wants to break out my chest and bolt out of the carriage.

He smiles and closes his eyes. "My dear Michelle, you have no idea what you've been tossed into, do you?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I know who you are and what happened between you and mom, but I'm not sure how this whole thing works."

"I see." His smile widens. "Then allow me to explain. I have been alive for far longer than you could ever imagine. Before the world was created, before humans were walking around. I lived with my father and the rest of the angels in what you would call Heaven."

I nod and stare at him, enraptured by his voice.

"Unfortunately, dad and I didn't get along too well. He said you were perfect, incredible, better." His eye twitches. "He and I had a disagreement and I was kicked out of the house and put in charge of running the septic systems you call Hell."

I nod again, still speechless. I figure it's safer to let him have his say than to interrupt.

"And over these many millennia, I've grown lonely. I have no one to talk to or play with or fuck endlessly. I've been rejected by a horde of young beauties all because I am who your preachers say I am."

I shrink back in my seat, afraid he'll explode.

"But then," he smiles again, "your mother comes along and grants me the opportunity to have a partner in this world of mine. True, she never did pay her half of the bargain, but that will be cleared up soon enough. What I'm excited about is you, my new queen."

He stands, taking slow, paced steps toward me.

"You. My young, beautiful, virile new queen. The person who will keep my bed warm at night and give me something to play with." He stops just inches away from me, and I crane my neck to stare at him. "Stand."

I'm frozen for an instant before I can get my gears moving again. Shakily, I manage to haul myself to my feet and stare into his eyes. He still towers over me, and I suddenly feel like a tiny speck of dust in the wind. God, he's gorgeous.

He smiles wider and twirls his finger. "Spin."

I nod and turn around, relieved to not have to face his eyes for a few brief seconds. His cool fingers brush against the skin of my back, making me jump. They slide up the length of my spine, chilling my flesh and making me shiver inside myself.

"You have flawless skin, Michelle." His fingers find the buttons at the neck of my dress. "I'd love to see the rest of it."

Slowly, carefully, he undoes each of the small buttons, pulling them apart and letting the dress slide down my body. I'm trembling now, my breath barely audible in the silent carriage. I don't want him to do this, to get so close to me and touch me so intimately. But I don't dare think of what would happen if I pulled away.

He unhooks the final button and the front of my dress falls away. I fight the urge to cover my chest with my hands, still terrified that any wrong move with piss him off. I'm suddenly cold, and I look down to see my body reacting to the sudden cold. My breasts, the same soft tan as the rest of me, are dotted with goosebumps and are flushed red. My nipples have tightened almost painfully.