Morning in Lust’s citadel broke slowly.

  The violet flames that lined the halls pulsed faintly, subdued. Crimson light seeped through stained windows, pooling like molten glass across marble veins.

  Akil sat on the edge of his bed, violet embers in his palm flickered faintly. His reflection in the obsidian glass across him mirrored him perfectly. The Code whispered.

  Disgrace, deviation persists and correction is imminent.

  Akil exhaled and ignored it, his mind replaying last night’s interesting conversation with Syrene and his mother.

  'I really should get rid of her, they’ve started hinting they know something. She was not meant to be hidden for long anyway.'

  Somewhere beneath his expansive loft where his room was, a pulse persisted, faint but steady. Veyra, it seemed, was awake.

  Akil rose, steps deliberate, rehearsed, as he walked down the stairs to meet his dangerous but alluring guest. His chamber breathed with him, flames steadying, the scent of indulgence sharpening, he walked down the stairs, the lower chambers beckoning to him, promising temptation, promising defiance.

  Veyra sat upright on the silk covered couch, her feathers faintly luminous, eyes half asleep as if between dreams. Light bent around her at strange angles, space distorting slightly, softening the violet flames of Lust.

  Akil felt his throat catch at the sight of her disheveled figure but didn’t know what to make of the reaction, casually dismissing it out of his thoughts.

  “Good morning, Akil. Sorry I couldn’t wait up for you last night.”

  He waved her words away. “You shouldn’t speak so freely here.”

  She tilted her head, studying him. “And yet you listen.”

  “Plans are being made to take you far away from here as possible.” He replied without deigning to address her statement.

  “You didn’t pull me from the crater because you feared Heaven. You did it because you pitied me.”

  “Pity…” his fingers twitched “… is not Lust’s virtue.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said, smiling faintly. “That’s why your actions mean something.”

  The air between them trembled, thick with heat and something sharper. Akil felt the pulse of his own flame shift color, faint rose bleeding into violet. He had seen that shade only once before, when Lirien warned him what happened when Lust allowed itself to feel.

  He took a breath. “You speak of things you don’t understand.”

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  “Then teach me.” Veyra replied softly, taking a step towards him.

  Akil almost laughed, not from humor but disbelief. “You were divine once, possibly still so which would be worse. It begs of how a divine is here in the first place. What can I teach you that you haven’t already condemned?

  This was the longest he had spoken in a long time.

  She lowered her eyes. “What it means to want and not be allowed to.”

  That broke something in him, quietly, without sound. The floating spheres of fire lighting the chamber flickered. His control wavered.

  He crossed the last distance between them without thinking. His hand rose and hovered near her face, not touching but feeling the warmth radiating off her. She didn’t pull back. This was the first time he’d stood so close to her, her eyes were a pale gold and she smelled like sunlight and forgiveness.

  The silence thickened.

  “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” Akil said softly.

  Her gaze was steady as she replied. “Then stop giving me a reason to.”

  Her words reverberated through him, not accusatory, just unfiltered truth.

  The Code hummed again in his mind. Deviation detected. Emotional irregularity increasing.

  He forced his hand down. “You need rest.”

  “Do I?”

  “Syrene already suspects something. Don’t make it easier for her.” He turned from her, jaw tight.

  She cocked her head. “Syrene?”

  “Envy’s daughter,” he said without facing her. “She smells fault before it happens and she did witness me sparing you. If she senses why you’re still alive—”

  “Why I’m still alive,” she repeated quietly. “You mean, because of you.”

  He froze.

  She stepped closer once again facing his turned back. “Tell me the truth,” she whispered. “Why did you save me? And I know it’s not just curiosity, so why?”

  “Because—"

  A knock sounded on the doors.

  Akil sighed and went to answer the knock.

  Veyra was disappointed by the interruption, she couldn’t deny that she was intrigued and a little bit amused by this particular devil. He didn’t bother her about questions concerning her descension and she was grateful for that.

  A liveried servant was standing behind the doors, as Akil opened it, her head bowed low.

  “The Queen requests your presence my Lord.”

  “Did she by any chance state her reason?”. Akil knew his mother will never reveal her true intentions to a servant, but he needed to ask anyway, stalling for time the best way he knew how.

  Head still lowered, the servant answered in a low and fearful voice. “I have no clue my Lord, she didn’t say”.

  Akil sighed and suppressed his need to look behind him at the Angel still in his quarters.

  “I’ve heard your message, you may leave while.”

  The servant silently backed away and walked out of sight.

  The door was closed behind him as he stepped out into the hallway and leaned his head back onto the door and took a deep breath. Akil knew that his mother very much suspected something and may even know the exact thing he’s hiding under her domain.

  Trying his best all the while Veyra was unconscious, he devised some anti-divination runes that wouldn’t last as long as it should under the weight of his mother’s authority.

  He shook his head, squared his shoulders and prepared to meet his mother and whatever machinations she’ll surely throw at him.

  ***

  The throne hall of Lust shimmered like a mirage built from breath and flame. Pillars of rose-hued fire spiraled upward, their heat perfumed by a perfume that promised pleasure and punishment. Every sound died at the threshold, Lirien preferred her subjects to hear only her voice.

  Akil crossed the marble floor, each step measured, his boots echoed along the space. He stopped at the foot of the dais and knelt, head bowed.

  “Mother, you called and here I am.”

  The Sovereign regarded him in silence. Her eyes were twin embers beneath a crown of living flame and glass.

  “Son, you do remember what I told you just last night, don’t you?” Her tone velvet over steel.

  “I do mother.”

  The corner of her mouth curved. “Then perhaps you can tell me why the scent of Heaven lingers in my halls.”