#demon!ashton

Eyes as black as night had roamed the small haunt that the local supernaturals frequented, free of any kind of glamour to appeal to the human prey. Most of the locals knew better than to step out without the glamour on, especially demons, but Ashton had kept his on when he stepped through the door, even with the wash of protective magic you had placed on the building.

“What’ll it be, sugar?” You finally asked him, his eyes unseeing as he muttered the word ‘whiskey’. You never took offence, because sometimes the creatures you encountered needed the time to come to terms with something that happened. 

“On the house, don’t drown.” You commented, not even inciting a verbal response as you returned your attention back to one of your regular vampires, a charming smile on your lips as you carried on, the despondent demon lurking in the back of your mind.

The night had been a steady one for the bar, and the demon hardly moved. He wasn't interested when a fight broke out, he ignored the other demons that seemed to sidle up to him and then abandon him once they realised he wasn’t going to pander to their whims.

It hit three am when you finally sat in front of him having a stool behind the bar for this exact reason.

“How about you give me a name, and I’ll go knock on Hades’ door to see if he’s got your soul locked up.” This pulled him from the funk he’d fallen into, his eyes finally focusing and finding yours.

“No need. How long has it been?” 

“You’ve been sittin’ there for at least seven hours, sugar. You sure you’re alright?” And it seemed to flip a switch in him, dark tousled hair finally coming to life as he groaned and let his head rest on the bar. 

Like with all of your other creature patrons, you didn’t hesitate, ruffling his hair gently which had him pulling back in shock, making you smirk as his own fingers ran through the jet black locks before sighing.

“I really need to stop falling out of my skin.” He muttered and you laughed.

“It’s been a long time since I had a skinwalking demon inside of these walls.” You commented casually, feeling his eyes study you as you moved to clean part of the bar.

“There are others?” The curiosity in his tone seemed desperate, which surprised you.

“There were, then good old Lucifer decided that the creation was an abomination. How’d you escape the culling?” 

“I didn’t know there was one? How long ago was it?” This had you confused. You’d heard through the grapevines before Lucifer himself had walked into your establishment. You’d been lucky to escape with your life that night.

“Merde, honey we’re talkin’ about five centuries ago. I’ve had this bar running for the last eight.” His face fell at your words, dismay crossing his features before his eyes closed and a sigh escaped him

“I’m barely four centuries old. How on earth did that freak mutation happen?” His words were all snark but you saw the way his shoulders slumped, how he seemed resigned to the defeat. But you frowned, chucking the rag at him, making him look up. 

“None of that in this bar. If good ‘ole Lucy is up to his tricks again, then you’re around for a reason honey. Now, what’s your name, my lovely skinwalker?” And for the first time that night, he smiled.

“Ashton. My name’s Ashton.” 

He became a regular from that day on. Unlike other demons who had assignments to take souls and cash in on debts, he never really did much. 

The only thing you gleaned from Ashton was that he was only ever called for when there seemed to be something that was too good to be true. And more often than not, they were, which left him to do the dispatching.

On those days, he was sullen and silent, unwilling to even share the possible horrors he may have witnessed, even with your experienced eyes, the way his were haunted, part of you wished to never see it.

He became steady at your bar, a fixture that kept your own morale up when things were rough. He was always there to kick someone too rowdy out, and eventually he started staying til you’d locked up and apparated home.

“Hey Ash. New suit?” You’d called out in greeting as he arrived. You’d noticed that he’d started to experiment with his wardrobe more now that he started to gain confidence in his own skills. 

“You ask me every time I’m wearing something different.” He grumbled, making you laugh as he took his spot at the bar, tugging off the suit jacket and resting it over the back of the stool. 

“Because you’re finally showing an artistic flair with your clothes, sue me for noticing and pointing out they make you look good.” You fired back easily, continuing to set up for the rest of the day. 

“Are we still swapping stories today then?” He asked, ignoring your previous comment as you slid his usual glass in front of him. You smiled in return.

“I love how you consider swapping stories of my relatively normal life something exciting.” He laughed at that.

“Hearing stories of domesticity is much more preferable to the ones of death. Let me have this one thing.” His plea with wide eyes was met with unimpressed ones, only for you to give way and crack a smile.

“It’s a good job that I like you then, not many people can get stories outta me. At least, not the ones of where I’m making a new spell in my own home surrounded by the green ferns and my familiar.” This brought a grin to his face.

“Like I said, hearing something so normal and simple, it makes me hopeful that there’s gonna be a day when I don’t get called in to death and destruction.” You felt your heart break for him a little bit. 

Most of the demons who crossed your safe haven had long since settled into the death and destruction that surrounded them. A lot of them even welcomed it with open arms and gleeful smiles. 

But not Ashton. 

He’d practically rejected that side of him. It was only when he’d met you that he worked ways to accept it but not sink into it. He hung onto you like a lifeline and you gave him those stories of normality, if only to keep him grounded, especially on the worst days. 

“I heard old Lucy has put out rumours of a skinwalker. What’s up with that?” You queried once you’d finished setting up the bar. His face took on a pinched look before sighing.

“I’m a skinwalker with control. I’ve seen the other demons, read the transcripts of the old skinwalkers. They, they lost their sanity towards the end. They sunk into themselves and had nothing to pull them back, nothing to keep them in the world we roam. It’s why I can’t lose control. So far I’ve kept it under lock and key, and yes it’s there, but as long as I don’t lose myself like they did, he won’t have a reason to wipe me out.” 

“Good old Lucifer doesn’t need a reason, sugar. But I’m proud of you.” His posture changed ever so slightly, but the smile he gave you in return was one of the more honest smiles you’d ever seen on his face.

“I guess it’s gonna be me keeping my head down?” He finally muttered and you laughed, patting his cheek gently.

“That and some luck, but you got me on your side, so you’ve got enough to see you through my favourite skinwalking demon.” 

But like many things, the luck had run out for both of you. 

Lucifer was sat on the lounge sofa you’d had moved into the VIP section, his casual demeanour betraying the crackling energy that you could feel.

“Most demons give me the time to open the damn bar, your highness.” Even though your age had nothing on Lucifer, you were one of the braver souls who knocked him down, reminding him that you were never one to bend over backwards.

“Unfortunately for you, witch, the bar won’t be opening today. See, there’s been a rumour. A rumour that you’ve been harbouring a skinwalker.” Ice ran through your veins as your stomach dropped.

But you kept yourself as calm as you could, a game you’d played far too many times before.

“Tell me, Lucifer. Why would you be interested in a skinwalker when you destroyed them over five centuries ago. I don’t need to remind you that you came to gloat that day.” The anger was easy to display, the bitterness in your voice telling him exactly what you thought of his choice.

“Ah, but this skinwalker is going rogue.”

“And so I’m harbouring them? Tell me, Lucy, do demons get to die like humans do, or do you just turn into ash?” You felt the burning of the chains before you even had time to react, your breath being stolen as the burning metal wrapped around your body.

Chains draped across your face, and apart from the low hiss of pain, you did nothing more.

“You’re lucky I don’t do what would be considered normal, witch.” 

“Trust me, your demons will turn on you quicker when they find out exactly who is threatening their safe haven. How will you cope when every demon is on my side?” You could see the way he twitched at the possible threat, the chains getting tighter in response.

“Then if I kill you and blame it on the skinwalker, they’ll go after them.” The taunt was enough as you felt the wards shift and you realised it was Ashton.

Part of you wanted to scream, to warn him. But your voice was trapped, barely able to take in a breath as Lucifer stood from his spot, curling his finger so that the chains yanked forward, bringing you to your knees.

“I must confess that I feel like a monster doing this. But let it be a lesson for generations who try to meddle in affairs that aren’t theirs to touch.” You could only close your eyes as he raised his hand, the shift having already started as the fingers elongated and the nails grew into claws. 

“Your confession will never erase what you’ll do. May the creatures of the darkness know who tried this day, to strip my life and make me pay. May they rebel and cast out, those souls so sure and cast out this monster forever more.” It wasn’t a full spell, but the intent behind the words were enough as a raging roar ripped through the building.

But it wasn’t in front of you like you’d anticipated. 

Your eyes snapped open to see something hit Lucifer and throw him across the room.

“Unbind them now.” To your shock, it was Ashton, his skin practically glowing as he towered over you, his stance in a crouch. 

“For what, skinwalker? You’re only going to die before them.” 

You watched in awe as Ashton seemed to shift, almost like his mind had sunk into base instincts and for the first time in your life, you felt a sliver of fear. But surprisingly enough, it wasn’t towards Ashton. No, it was towards Lucifer who had shifted forms with a look of fury on his face.

“You won’t touch them.” There was a laugh that rooted him to the spot, and you couldn’t stop the yell of agony as you felt yourself hoisted up, desperately trying to cut the feeling of pain off, the agony searing and exhausting. 

“Want a bet, skinwalker?” The deep cadence of Lucifer’s voice sent the thrill of fear, but Ashton didn’t hesitate as he launched at the self proclaimed king of hell, no words being spoken but guttural snarls instead. 

You tried to watch, but you could see the black dots in your vision. But you struggled for each breath, watching as Lucifer seemed to toss him like a rag doll.

You were dimly aware of a sound that shook the walls as you blacked out, a silent prayer that if you were to be sent on to the afterlife, that Ashton would be granted one mercy to be with you at least.

-

“Fuck, why is it when I need a witch, the one I want isn’t available.” Your head was fuzzy, pain rocketing around your body as you heard chains clink together.

You couldn’t pull any energy to speak even a single word before the fuzziness swept you under, drowning you from the pain that you were in.

-

“I can sense you.” A different voice startled you and your head shot up from where you were lay, shock colouring your features. “Death looks good on you.” 

You turned to the voice and felt your insides drop at the sight of Hades. Unlike Lucifer, those who knew, knew that Hades ruled the underworld.

“Are you playing as Hades or your alter?” You finally asked and he laughed, stepping from the shadow that had hidden his features. 

Pale skin with vibrant green eyes. He gave you the kind of smile that he only gave Persephone. 

“It’s my alter form today. Figured you’d seen enough already.” He countered with ease, holding his hand out to you. You took it willingly, allowing him to pull you up. In his alter form, he’d named himself Michael. He had soft features that looked welcoming ‘to not scare the children sent his way’, was his excuse. But it was nice to see familiarity.

“How dead am I?” 

“Not as dead as you should be. Since Lucifer used the death chains on you, I have more leeway than he thought, the little upstart.” You blanched at his words.

“He used the death chains? But, that-”

“Should’ve sent you to my realm almost immediately, or at least indefinitely when you lost consciousness.. But your little spell blocked the chains from doing what they do best. Not to mention my skinwalker nearly taking his own life getting those things off you.” Michael explained as he guided you around the forested area. You realised this must have been his wife’s work.

“Wait, your skinwalker? Is that-” Michael cut you off.

“Is that why Lucifer wiped them to extinction? No. His first batch had never found their grounding. Never succeeded in tying their humanity down. But Ashton was different. So I created him.” 

“What happens now?” His smirk bore the arrogance of a god and it took everything to stop yourself from punching him. You’d learned the hard way not to punch a god, they never bruised and never took well to being hit by what they considered a mortal. 

“Take care of my skinwalker. And tell him that he holds the crown in title for now. I’ll be along to make it official in the next day or so. Gotta make sure his royal partner kick-starts their recovery.” 

Before you could fully process the information, you felt the world spin around you once more, going black. 

The blissful pain free state you had been in slowly morphed as the pain seemed to wrap you tightly until you couldn’t breathe, only for your lungs to pull in the much needed air.

“Oh thank fuck.” Was heard above you, but your eyes were too heavy to try and open, your body lethargic and almost lead like to try and reassure the person above you.

When you next came around, the pain was dulled. There was a slow and steady beep that had you turning your head and you stopped yourself from groaning. 

“Please tell me I’m not in a standard hospital.” The mutter was scratchy and quiet. 

“You forget what we’ve been building this hospital for a few years now. This is one for all kinds of creatures. No regular humans in sight.” The voice made you jump, turning to see Ashton sat next to you, his hair dishevelled and eyes tired as he took you in.

“You’re alive.” His lips curved into a small smile at your whispered words.

“More like we’re alive.” He corrected and you could feel a tear fall from the corner of your eye, lifting a hand up to his face. He was quick to scoot closer, your fingertips feeling his skin and you felt the dam burst.

You were both alive.

He didn’t hesitate to rest his hand over yours, keeping it against his face as you cried, but there was understanding in his eyes as you processed everything, Michael’s words finally ringing back to you as you slowly calmed down.

He was here with you, and even though you’d been toying with the idea, you’d never been so sure of telling him how you felt. Once you’d gathered your bearings, before he could start talking, you cut him off quickly.

“So, king of hell, fancy going on a date with me when I’m out of here?” As much as you wanted to be sentimental with Ashton, your emotions were frayed enough as it was. This was the last thing you needed to add to it. And watching Ashton’s face as he processed your words was certainly worth it.

“A date, with me?” He clarified, tone mystified and dumbfounded. You grinned.

“Of course. Give me a week before I get to the sentimentalities, but I’m almost certain I’ve been in love with you for the last year. Hades was nice enough to point that out, since you can’t lie to a god.” 

“Hades? What?” You took pity on Ashton in that moment.

“Instead of dying immediately, I was trapped, but in Hades’ part of the underworld. He explained that you were his skinwalker, connected to your humanity. He could see my feelings for you as clear as daylight. I might as well try to-” Your words were cut off with his lips on yours, the feeling of them causing you to smile against his lips, breaking the kiss.

“I’m not about to get hexed, am I?” He breathed and you laughed, his lips moving to your forehead before he sat back.

“Not in a million years. So you think about actually coming with me now when I get out of here?” His smile spoke the thousands of words he wanted to say, but simply settled for squeezing your hand gently.

“I think it’s about time I moved in, huh?” 

One of the healers seemed to come in for that moment and you allowed her to fuss over you as Ashton settled back in the chair, a peaceful silence sweeping over the two of you. Compared to your last memory of the loud beast-like roars, the peace was welcomed and enjoyed, Ashton’s slow breathing accompanying the steady beep of your monitor that you knew would be gone by the end of the day.

The peace was something you appreciated as you felt Ashton take your hand once the healer had left, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin. It was only when he jolted upright his face a picture of alarm as he stared at you before breathing,

“What do you mean ‘king of hell’?”

-

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The first decade, the coven had their own struggles. There’d been enough times when hunters had nearly decimated them all because there was word about two demons in the midst of witches. 

It was the first time Roe had ever invoked sacrificial protection for the betterment of her coven, and the guilt had weighed heavy on her for years afterwards. 

True to her father's word, Calum and Luke had remained with the coven, an added layer of protection as they continued with their lives. They acted as liaison, to reap the souls that were not willing to pay their debts, the ones that Michael and Ashton had no time to seek and collect. 

Ashton and Michael traversed through often enough, finally becoming comfortable enough with Marcella and Roe to let their guards down with them. 

Gem had wormed her way into their hearts too, the elder witch having accepted them with ease. More often than not, there would be a point in the week where any of the four demons would sit talking with her, asking about her knowledge, her life. 

A witch's knowledge was sacred, it taught the new generations of the Old Magicks, curses and spells. It taught them how to defend, to care for. But these stories Gem told the four demons, taught them how to open a side of them that they’d believed they’d lost the day they’d sold themselves to the King. 

Ashton sat with Gem on such an occasion, his eyes studying the way her fingers tapped the porcelain cup. 

“Your time is coming, you realise?” Her voice was quiet, Ashton could only nod. “She’ll fight it. She’s a stubborn witch.”

“It’s her right to rule. I know his predecessor was murdered, but he knows that he wants his kingdom in good hands. If it wasn’t for the fact that Calum finalised the bond with her, he’d have snatched Roe years ago.” Gem sighed as she finished her tea, her eyes searching the tea leaves. 

“They just read change every damn time.” 

Ashton looked up from his own cup, staring at Gem in shock at the frustrated tone that had left her lips. 

Over the last decade, he’d only heard her raise her voice a handful of times. Each one was warranted, but he still knew that the normally calm witch only showed the frustrations when things were going south. 

“Gem?” Old eyes met his and he could see the years of experience and the years of loss as a lone tear escaped. 

“I can’t make heads or tails of what’s going to happen, Ashton. Too much needs to be decided and she will fight it, every step of the way.” 

He sighed as he set his cup down, nodding his head before letting his fingers push through his black curls. That change had come a few years previous when Roe had made a passing comment to the demon when he’d shown up with a mild disguise on. She’d told him that black hair certainly looked better on him and so he’d decided that he needed a change and the black hair became permanent.

“He’s expecting her to rebel. He doesn’t want to put too much pressure on Calum, knowing she’ll readily destroy herself to protect him from the Kings plans.” 

“So he’s putting the pressure on you?” 

“Yes and no. My jobs are no different, but I’m feeling the pressure of doing what needs to be done. He doesn’t accept failure.” Carefully, his fingers peeled up his shirt sleeve and Gem gasped in shock at the darkened welts on his skin. 

“He didn’t.” The older witch breathed, her eye unable to tear them from him.

“You can not heal them, Gem.” He warned as her fingers reached out, touching the delicate skin. 

“Watch me.” She snapped back in return, eyes refocusing before the spell left her lips. 

He watched in amazement as the skin on his arm knitted itself back together, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. 

“He dares go for you again, tell him to start a fight with me.” The older witch snapped. And Ashton couldn’t help but smile as his fingers reached out, squeezing her arm gently. 

“I’d look forward to the day where I see a demon, and the king of hell no less, get forced to submit to a witch.” Ashton murmured, earning a smirk from Gem.

“Where do you think our Roe learned it from?” Her words made him chuckle as a knock on the door interrupted them. Michael’s head stuck around the corner and Ashton tensed.

“We need to go. There’s unrest. An Angel appeared.” Ashton was on his feet swiftly, but bowed shortly to Gem before following Michael out. Gem chuckled.

For all his posturing, his upbringing was one he never seemed to let go of once he realised that he had a safety net in the house.

Following Michael outside, they made the journey through the shadows, landing not far from the ostentatious palace where the King held court. His actual home was elsewhere, along with the offices that he used to keep things in check, but the palace was one to be used as a decoy. Ashton was certain that only six others, including himself, knew where the King lived and four of them lived above in the human realm. 

“What’s going on?” His voice carried as he stepped through. Demons fell silent, their resentful eyes staring at the two as they strode through. 

That had been another downside to stepping up. Demons who were ambitious often killed their competitors. However, the King had made himself clear over the last decade. Anyone who touched Ashton or Michael, paid the price. 

“The Angel bitch appeared out of nowhere, sir.” One of the younger demons commented, the sneer firm on his lips. Ashton held back his sigh of annoyance.

“Someone with a fucking brain cell, tell me what happened?” He snapped out and murmurs slipped through the gathered crowd before they parted. Ashton felt his heart tremble as the beaten and bloody body of the angel lay crumpled in a heap, the wings out and almost shredded with claws.

Michael scoffed as he made his way over.

“Who dragged the angel down here?” Ashton’s mind was frozen as Michael tilted the angel onto their back and memories from his human life hit him hard as the face fitted itself into his memories.

“She just appeared on the floor. No one dragged the bitch.” The first demon spoke and Ashton’s hand snapped out, his fingers closing slowly into a fist until he heard the demon gasp and struggle for air.

“You might think that they are our mortal enemies thanks to Belize, but trust me when I say working relationships exist between Heaven and Hell. Continue to call them a bitch and watch what happens. And for your troubles, they are a they, not a she.” He snapped, his fingers releasing and the demon struggled for air, his heaving breaths giving Ashton a vindictive satisfaction. 

Their body was limp, but Ashton could hear the shallow, rattling breaths escape their lips, and he knew he needed to act to save their life.

With a jolt, he realised things were different compared to the last time that he saw them. And he felt like he was in some sort of cliche moment as he carefully picked up the angel, ignoring how the jolt slid down his arms when his fingers brushed their skin.

“Michael, inform his highness what has happened and clean up.” Ashton instructed and Michael nodded, turning around to kick the other demons from the palace. Ashton waited for a moment before he disappeared and he knew that he needed somewhere safe for the angel.

The sun hit his skin as he arrived, glancing up to the house before whistling loudly.

Calum came barrelling out first, followed by Marcella and then Gem. 

“Ashton?” Calum’s eyes questioned the being in his arms, but he shook his head.

“They’re an angel, I can’t give them treatment below, it’ll kill them. I wouldn’t normally ask, but they-”

“They’re important to you.” Gem murmured as Marcella murmured a few spells and her face dropped.

“Get inside, use the room that you left Luke and I in.” She instructed and Ashton followed behind Gem who guided the two of them whilst Marcella yelled for other witches.

They came down at their calls, a couple scowling as they spotted Ashton, but he paid them no mind as he settled the angel on the bed, his fingers brushing the shoddily cropped hair with a sigh.

“What did they do to you?” He whispered before stepping back when Marcella returned with Roe in tow.

“Ashton?” Her tone was gentle as she held her hand out to him and he turned away from the angel, ignoring the stretched out hand before leaving the house, his own magic itching as he settled outside. He knew things were going to change and he knew he couldn’t leave.

“Fuck.” He lay out on the grass, arm over his eyes as he tried to keep his frustration from exploding outwards.

It was silent apart from the mutterings coming from within the house. Then a door closed and he growled in a warning.

“Pack it in.” Gem snapped as she sat herself next to him, his arm moving to see the older witch sat with an air of regality on the grass. He immediately felt bad, knowing the older witch sometimes struggled to move with ease.

“Had I known I would’ve been followed, I’d have stood.” He muttered and Gem snorted.

“Or you would’ve just disappeared.” She countered and he grimaced as his arm dropped from his face, sitting up to face Gem.

“I can’t.” He whispered and she stared at him hard. It felt like she was examining his soul, or what was left of it. And he looked away.

“There’s a bond, isn’t there?” Ashton knew that she knew the answer, but was still demanding him to vocalise it. And had it been anyone else, he’d have told them to fuck off.

But it was Gem. The witch who healed him despite the Kings deliberate mutilation to remind him of his place. The witch who reminded him of his humanity, who helped him find those memories from so long ago. 

“Yes.” He finally whispered. 

They sat there in silence before a blast of magic washed over the two of them and Ashton scrambled to his feet before helping Gem up. She smiled gently at him, patting his hand before following him through. 

“Fucking angels.” Sapphire muttered as she left the room, rubbing a spot on her arm. Ashton snarled at her which made her pale before glancing to Gem and hurrying away. 

“Peace, Ashton. It’s because the angel's version of magic is so very different.” Gem soothed the agitated demon. But it didn’t settle him until he entered the room and saw them laying more settled in the bed, their face free from the marks that had stunned him the first time around.

“Fucking angelic magic thinking it’s better than ours.” Roe muttered as she helped up Marcella who sighed.

“Don’t forget, our magic is tainted by our mates. Is it any wonder their magic reacted so violently?” Marcella chided and Roe stuck her tongue out before she spotted Ashton.

“You couldn’t have bonded to a human or a faerie, or even a bloody werewolf! You had to go and bond to a fucking angel.” He knew she was teasing, but his body tensed. Sensing the change in his mood, Roe held her hands up in a surrender position.

“How are they?” 

“You need to find out what happened to them for me to fully heal them. We’ve got the superficial damage fixed, but there are curses locked in that I can’t touch until I know the origin. Ashton, how did you come by this angel?” Marcella’s tone was curious and he sighed as he took a seat next to the bed, feeling his chest ease now he was in proximity to them.

“They had been dumped on the floor of the palace. Which reminds me, Roe, you’ll have to start the transition soon before the younger demons start to revolt. The elders refuse to teach the little bastards.” Roe sighed.

“I just need to figure shit out first, but it’ll happen. Calum managed to finally convince me.” She muttered and he smiled gratefully at her.

“Go and rest, I’ll watch over them for now.” Roe left but Marcella hesitated. 

“I’ll be fine.” He murmured and she shook her head.

“They weren’t in the best condition and we don’t know if our magic has aggravated it. The best thing you can do is make sure they’re comfortable so their own magic can help their body.” she instructed calmly before passing him a cloth. “If you notice a fever, use this to cool them down, it’s imbued with cooling charms to help so you don’t have to leave their side. Call for me when they wake up and I can get a better diagnosis.” Without another word, Marcella left, the door closing behind her.

He knew that both of them would’ve returned to their mates. The magic was enough that they would be tired. 

The door opened once more and Gem stepped in, two cups of tea floating beside her as she sat on the chair which resided on the other side of the bed.

Ashton didn’t question her as the second cup of tea floated to his side. 

“We might as well continue our little chat, especially since our Roe has seemingly made a decision.” Gem commented quietly and Ashton smiled at the older witch, his hands clasping the cup. 

“I guess we should. Do you think that Roe is truly ready to work the compromise so that she can run the coven whilst keeping an eye on Hell?” Ashton’s words were curious and Gem smiled.

“She’s ruled long enough with an iron fist with this coven. They won’t know what to expect with her, one because she’s female but two because she has witches blood and she’s not afraid to exploit that for her own personal gains. I think she’ll make a fantastic Queen, and with Calum ruling by her side, the younger demons will quickly realise that the hierarchy exists for a reason.”

—

When they woke up with a gasp, Ashton was there, his eyes haunted yet considerate. 

“You’re safe.” He murmured and their eyes were confused, the tiredness evident as he studied them. 

“Ashton? But, you died centuries ago.” Their tone was suspicious despite the confusion. A wry smile appeared on his lips at their words. 

“It’s what you get for falling in love with an angel.” He murmured, his eyes darkening. The hazel deepened before it fully transitioned to black and understanding dawned on the angel’s face. 

“Demon.” They murmured softly and he nodded. 

“You were dropped in the palace and left for dead. What happened?” The grimace told a lot more than he expected, but they seemed to weigh up the options before sighing. 

“When word got out, about us, mercenaries were sent after you.” 

“I remember. They’re the reason I became what I am.” His tone was dry and they shot him an apologetic look. 

“They didn’t expect you to fight back, but I warned them. I warned them that you were of noble blood and had been raised to know how to fight. They watched me for a century after that. I couldn’t function. You’d died and my heart had gone.” 

His heart clenched and stopped himself from reaching out to them, to offer a form of comfort. 

“Were they watching to make sure you didn’t do something drastic?” They snorted.

“I was the angel who fell in love with a human. They refuted my claims of soulmate because angels only mate with other angels.” The scorn dripping from their tone surprised Ashton. As memories began to slot into place, he remembered bits and pieces. 

“Did he forbid it?” And they shook their head, choppy hair falling into their eyes. A trembling hand moved to grasp it and Ashton watched as tears filled their eyes. 

He silently realised that the change in hairstyle was not a personal choice on their part.

“He would’ve blessed it had he known. Had I not hidden it from him. He had me helping the lost souls, as a penance but also because I understood. Then Ariale, he tried so hard, but I couldn’t move on from you. He got angry, bitter.” Ashton closed his eyes. 

“And then I appeared in the human realm, didn’t I?”

“They weren’t sure it was you until this year. Word spread that you had climbed the ranks but no one knew how much. I was forbidden.”

“You were my mate in my human life and they wouldn’t risk the bond carrying over to this life.” Ashton figures out the unspoken words. Tears were in their eyes as they took in a trembling breath. 

“Ariale demanded judgement. That was when I learned one of his brothers-”

“Was the one that I killed as a human.” He closed his eyes, anger and frustration bubbling up. Ashton never felt violent towards Angels; he couldn’t after he started unlocking his human life. But the burning anger made him want to go to the high heavens and demand their own trials. 

“Yes. They demanded my judgement for your actions since I’d claimed you as my soulmate.” His heart sank. 

“Judgement deemed you guilty on behalf of my actions.”

“I begged with him, cried that it wasn’t fair. He told me the judgement had been made but he would not cast me from the heavens. He would send me to my mate. Ariale got hold of me first.” 

Ashton couldn’t hold back his snarl of anger. How dare they claim righteousness yet hurt one of their own in such a way? He was furious. 

“What did Ariale do?” His eyes held theirs and he watched as they winced as they moved. 

“You saw my wings. There are some curses embedded as well. I cannot complete our bond, it’ll kill both of us most likely or just me. He was a bitter angel about me not moving on.” Ashton could only silently promise to end this bitter Angel's life if ever he crossed paths with him. 

“I brought you to a coven of witches who, well a handful I consider friends. Roe is going to want to know the curses and Marcella won’t stand for your curse to prevent you completing the bond.” He held his hand out to them, resting it palm facing up on the bed. 

“Ashton-”

“No,” he interrupted, “we were denied when I was human. I refuse to let some fucking asshole of an angel ruin it for us now. You’re mine.” He surprised himself at the ferocity of his words, but the look of relief of their face spoke volumes for him. 

“Let me speak to the witches first. They need a fair idea of what to work with.” They finally whispered as they rested their hand in his. 

He didn’t hesitate to bring their knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to them. 

“Your will is mine. I’ll track them down and see what I can do. Rest for now, you’re safe.” He waited until they had settled back and fallen asleep. It was easy to track down Gem, and thankfully Roe and Marcella were with her. 

“They’ve woken up. We’ve spoken a little and they’re resting now but it was a bitter angel that imbued them with curses. One of the curses means we can never complete our bond without their death.” Gems eyes were sympathetic as Marcella gasped in anger. 

“Then I’ll find the damn curse and pick it apart piece by piece. They’re in safe hands. Now do you need a shoulder or do you need to vent?” He felt like he was being scolded by a mother hen, but he smiled at Marcella. 

“I’m going to put some brats in their place.” He caught exasperated yet fond looks before he disappeared and when he reappeared in the office’s, he knew he had his work cut out for him. 

Michael was waiting, a file in his hand. 

“Mallory is one of Torrid’s lackeys. She got her claws in but this one has brains. He’s been laying low until Roe’s coronation got announced. He hasn’t been sitting idle either.” Michael explained as Ashton took the file and glanced down. 

He scoffed. 

“Get the brats that keep defying me. Let them learn their lessons from the elder who won’t learn to adapt.” Ashton instructed as he made his way down the halls. Michael vanished as Ashton reached the interrogation rooms. 

“Sir.” The demon was a younger one in looks, but she’d been around about a century longer than Ashton. 

“Sal. He's still not giving up names?” She shook her head. 

“We caught one name. Talisia. I’ve got one of the older agents running her down now.” He nodded before snapping his fingers and chains wrapped themselves around the unwilling demon. The noise of protest was cut off by the chains tightening. 

Sal looked at Ashton with a raised eyebrow. 

“They’ve gotta learn.” He shrugged as he dragged the prisoner out, heading from the buildings to the pit that lay just outside of the palace. 

Demons began to curiously gather as he dragged the chained up demon through the streets. More gathered as he kicked the demon into the pit, the chains unwinding from the demon. 

Ashton held his stance, casual and collected. Michael pulled up on the other side as he felt Sal watch his back. 

“Someone who cannot change is someone to be made an example of.” He called over to the gathered demons. They fell silent. 

“This is just how he treats anyone who disagrees with him.” Mallory called to the crowd and a whisper of unrest rushed through the gathered. 

Ashton snorted. 

“We all knew a new Queen would be ruling. You are apart of the group that tried to murder her and one of her coven sisters ten years ago and escaped justice. The last ten years has been making sure that whilst you may disagree with a hybrid Queen, you can see she’s capable.” Ashton called out earning mutters of agreement. 

“She will be weak willed like the new brats that you recruit.” This time mutters from Michael’s group were loud and he turned in shock. “They are trying to fool you!” 

A laugh rang out from that side and a small female stepped forward, face in a vicious snarl. 

“You just called us weak willed brats did you not? You tried to brainwash us into believing that a new queen would be terrible but failed to mention you attempted to murder her long before we arrived.” She glanced up at Ashton who nodded. 

“If I was a merciful man, I’d let her roast you until you are nothing but dust. But I am not merciful and I am not a man.” Demons fell silent as his body shifted, cracks running through his skin as he snarled and the pits opened. 

Hell hounds rushed around their newest meal and wasted no time in tears pieces off, his screams echoing around until they faded to gurgles before falling silent.

“Take your quarrels with our new queen to the ones that have been trying to teach you the last decade. They will tell you what happened with her hybrid sister and what she did to the demon who tried to murder her mate.” He snarled before he disappeared back to the offices. 

Ashton knew that he was going to get complaints from the older lot, but he was in no mood to deal with petty demons who could not adapt to change. If they were going to rule efficiently, then they needed to learn to adapt efficiently.

He headed back up, trying to grip his temper, but he was walking back into a volatile situation. He was angry on his angel’s behalf, knowing that they were thrown because of him. 

It burned him that they were so wounded for so many years. 

He sought out Gem who was waiting, a cup of tea sat on the arm of the chair, expecting. 

“I’ve imbued the room in soundproof spells for you. Let it out, Ashton.” Her kind tone seemed to set off the temper and his anger flooded, skin cracking as he let out such a snarl that would’ve frightened any sensible witch.

Gem remained in place as he got up and paced, his hair crackling with power as his skin cracked further, blood red veins running down his face as he finally hurled the tea cup, the porcelain shattering against the wall.

Gem merely waved her hand and more pieces of fine china stacked themselves on the table closest to him and he threw every single piece, his fury and frustration reducing some of the pieces to nothing more than dust.

He was so angry that he couldn’t think straight, mind splintering. Part of him was stuck on the anger towards the underworld, the new demons that defied him as well as Roe. And the other part was stuck on his anger towards the high heavens for hurting his angel. His mate.

It took the better part of an hour before his anger finally began to recede enough that his skin returned to normal but it felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. The sensation was strange and he could feel moisture in his eyes and he finally understood as Gem stood up, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

For the first time since he’d died, he was crying. 

It took longer than he’d thought, another forty minutes, before he stopped crying, the heavy breathing slowing down until his tears were gone and his chest wasn’t burning from trying to take in oxygen.

Gem had another cup of tea waiting and once he was sitting back in the armchair, she got down to business.

“Now that you’re less likely to murder one of my coven should they look at you wrong, are you ready to tell me what happened? Tell me about the defiant and I’ll tell you what we found with your Angel.”

This made Ashton pause before his eyes narrowed on the witch.

“You’d have made a better demon.” He finally muttered darkly, taking another sip of tea. She dimpled at him before sitting back and letting him take the lead of the conversation.

He told her about the defiant demons, what he did to the traitor they found. He didn’t hide the violence from Gem and she didn’t flinch away. He felt his chest feel strangely lighter and when he said so, she smirked. 

“You boys might think you’re soulless, but you’re not. You need to share the burdens that you all carry. It might not be a typical burden that weighs you down, I know that death means nothing to you. But the ones that have been defying you, it’s making you question your choices. That’s where your burden lies.” 

“Maybe a better therapist than demon.” He finally conceded and she laughed. 

“Would you like to know about the curses?” This had his immediate attention, tea long since abandoned.

“How did you figure it out?” 

“They used your blood. The curse is specifically tied to you. It’s a long forgotten curse that will burn them when you initiate the bond.” He felt his stomach turn. 

“But our bond initiates from touch does it not?” And Gem shook her head. 

“It’s different for you two. You’ve been bonded before but it broke with your death, correct?” He nodded. “You need to be physically intimate with them for the bond to reassert itself.” 

“Is there a counter?” Gem visibly brightened. 

“There is. The only problem is that we need to get a hold of a faerie. And they’re tricky little blighters that don’t do anything unless there’s something in it for them.” And Ashton could feel his hopes sink to the pit of his stomach. 

Faeries were notoriously tricky to deal with and unless there was something in the deal that benefitted them, they wouldn’t help. And he couldn’t see how a faerie would benefit from his mate being freed from the curse. 

“I’ll see if I can call in a favour. Faeries might be fickle, but they honour debts between magical races. Go see your angel and I’ll get in contact.” Gem ushered him from the room and with a sigh he made his way upstairs, his feet feeling like lead as he got closer to the room. 

As he pushed open the door and their face lit up upon seeing him, and despite the dashed hope, he felt warm and a sense of comfort as the heaviness lifted as he took a seat, his hand slipping into theirs. 

He could deal with this. 

—

Gem had put in many calls, but none were being answered. It was like they knew the favour she was going to ask. 

When Michael had shown up to check in, Ashton was yet to leave the angels' side, and so Gem caught him, making him pause.

“It’s better that he stays with them for now. I, however, need a perspective of a demon.” This pulled Michael up short. 

Although he wasn’t a frequent visitor with Gem, he didn’t realise that she was comfortable enough to ask a favour, or at least ask for his advice.

“I’m curious.” She snorted at his words and tilted her head to what had been dubbed as her sitting room. Michael followed quietly, his eyes glancing to the grand staircase before ducking into the room.

The door slammed shut behind him, making him raise an eyebrow as he took the offered seat.

“I wish I could use the term ‘curiosity killed the cat’, but you’d be quick to be a smartass back.” The older witch muttered. Michael grinned.

“Absolutely. So what do you need me for that you couldn’t drag one of my elusive brothers out for?” He sat back in the chair, his elbow leaning on the arm rest as his head rested against his fingers. Gem rolled her eyes.

“The Fae are notoriously fickle. I have favours to call in but I know they won’t do it without some kind of reward. How can I put it in a way that they’ll be helping another species without actually gaining something in return?” 

“Just promise you won’t murder them. Usually does the trick.” Gem stared at him, her lips parted in shock at his words and brash attitude that came with them. 

Only when his lips began to twitch did she realise he was teasing her.

“Michael!” Her tone was flustered as she set her cup down. 

He laughed. 

“When it comes to a demon, you do need to promise that you won’t kill them. I wasn’t necessarily joking but they’ll be more inclined to listen if they know that their life isn’t on the line.” Gem just sighed. 

“Any other wise ideas from you?” The dry tone made Michael snort.

“Just go with your standard offerings. They’re selfish creatures so if the gifts are for them along with the promise of their life, there’s going to be at least one who will answer your call.” 

Gem could see where Michael was coming from and for a moment she wondered if that would be enough to encourage the fae to listen to their requests.

“I’ll try them once more but if they don’t work, we’re going to need a different way to get their help because they’ve been ignoring all of my other offerings.” Gem commented to Michael quietly. This made the demon pause in his movements.

“This is for the Angel that’s Ashton’s mate, correct?” Gem nodded and he sighed. “Let me deal with them, then. That way, we’re being upfront that a demon is involved and they may just respond to the plea.” Gem looked stunned for a moment before a bright smile crossed her features.

“Thank you Michael.” 

“You’ve kept my brothers and I alive for the better part of a decade. Allowed us to reside in your home and still use that protection. It’s the least I can do for you. Where’s the fae mound?” 

The following morning, Michael strolled in with a smug grin on his lips, and then glanced back to the door.

Gem nearly dropped her tea as the being she had been so desperate for stepped into the house. She held an air about her that seemed to demand her attention, the dark braids hanging over one shoulder, her eyes staring at Gem as the older witch studied the darker skinned being that had finally taken up her offerings and she couldn’t stop herself as she grabbed the back of the chair for support.

“You know what’s expected, what we need?” 

“I do this as a favour to my mate.” Her words were smooth like honey and Gem felt her jaw dropped, staring at Michael in shock.

“Michael?” 

“She’s my mate. When they sensed my presence, they sent her to deal with me. Neither of us anticipated the bond, but we didn’t deny it either.” 

“And your council?” Gem asked hesitantly, curiosity tinging her tone. 

“They accept the bond but will not welcome me back. So I asked them for one last favour for myself and my mate.” Gem felt the relief flood through her veins as she stepped forward, clasping her hands around the faerie’s, ignoring the look of shock at her touch.

“I cannot begin to tell you how much this means, for all of us. These four demons, it was difficult at first a decade ago, but they’re family, and to see one hurting, it’s difficult for all of us now.”

Michael scoffed and Gem gave him a wry smile.

“They learned their lessons long ago, you know that. We will proceed with the ritual on the next full moon if that is acceptable for you?” She returned her attention to the faerie whom she had yet to let go of.

“Perfectly acceptable.” 

“Wonderful. What’s your name, dear?” 

The faerie seemed to hesitate, glancing to Michael first before offering the older witch a kind smile.

“They called me Adana.” 

-

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