Her Wicked Angel

chapter 1

It was a black day in Hell.

Asmodeus stood high above the bottomless pit, his amber gaze locked on the tall obsidian spires in the distance. Screams and sobs rose up from below him on the hot air, the grunts of theirs tormentors a harsher note in a symphony he so often enjoyed. The demons were busy today. He had been busy too until he had fell the call of his master.

As much as he wanted to keep the devil waiting while he had finished his latest masterpiece, he had dropped everything and left his castle in the wastelands via a portal that had brought him to the plateau above the bottomless pit.

And there he stood, debating how long he could put off crossing the cragged, grim landscape to the Devil's fortress before his master lost his temper and called him again.

Asmodeus enjoyed pushing the male right to the limit of his patience. There was something satisfying about irritating his so- called master. The Devil would be able to sense his proximity and that he hadn't moved in twenty minutes. It was a game of wills he often played with him. Who would break first?

The call came again, stronger than it had been before, a tug he felt as a physical yank on his ribs, pulling him forwards toward the fortress.

A reminder that he has given freedom in Hell, but he was not master of it.