Vale, make sure Ronwe wouldn't suffer for it, and lock the angels on Angelis. One thing down, and only a million little ones to go, but I could do this. I had to. Mostly because no one else could.
6
Beelzebub
Once, a very long time ago, I'd been married to a woman who had monthly cramping so severe that her father had believed she was cursed. The local village thought she was a djinn and wanted to stone her, so he'd allowed me to buy her from him for almost nothing: two goats. The ceremony to bind us had been performed the very next day because her family wanted her out of the house before the evil spirit could spread to anyone else. My new wife had been barely sixteen years old.
Over the next four years, I'd spoiled her, earning her trust and friendship as I allowed her to grow up. At first, she was afraid of me, convinced that the only person who'd want her was a monster - so I told her I was one. Then I bought her everything she desired. New clothes, a new home, and even a cat. I made no rules about where she could go. The one time she was accused of running from her husband by a man in the market, I appeared to make it clear that my wife had my authority. After that, she began to grow brave.
The more she did, the better her body felt. It was as if being trapped in her home like a slave was damaging to her, and yet everyone had a remedy to solve her problem. Some said pregnancy. Others said to change her diet. Poisons were offered, and prayers were said. In the end, there was only one thing that truly helped: massage.
Now, I couldn't even remember the woman's name, but I thought of her when I saw Sia press a hand to her belly that evening. My Muse was nothing like that wife. Sia was strong. She did what she wanted and never asked permission. She also had the benefit of modern medicine, and yet her body still protested its natural cycle, and all I wanted to do was help.
All through dinner, I watched her. She laughed like she always did, but there were still the subtle signs. The long, slow blinks when her insides hurt, or the extra trips to the bathroom that we all pretended not to notice. When the legion relaxed that evening, she sat down to paint, completely unaware that her expression changed as the discomfort ebbed and swelled. That was why, when everyone began to slow down, grow quiet, and yawn a little too much, I decided to invite myself to her bed.
"Muse?" I asked as I set my book aside. "Am I allowed in your room tonight?"
Sam lowered his pad of paper. "You're not getting any, Bel."
"Just wanted to cuddle - and maybe catch up on sleep," I assured him.
"Sure," Sia decided, "But I'm sleeping in clothes."
"Panties," Luke fake-whispered. "Maybe even a tiny little shirt. Pretty sure that's even more of a tease than naked."
I gave him a warning look. "Do not be jealous, Lucifer. You have your own lover to cuddle."
"You should take Nick, too," Sam said. "That way I can spread out in the herb closet and actually rest without someone trying to grope me all the time."
For a moment, the entire room paused. Luke looked at Nick. Sia looked at me. Sam was smiling a little too big, clearly proud of himself, but Ron's eyes bounced between us. In all of history, Nick and I had never shared a bed, let alone a woman. They all knew it, but this time was different. This time, we had a woman who wasn't a passing fancy. Our Muse was part of our legion. One we all hoped would be very permanent.
So I looked at Sia. "It is a big bed."
"It is," Nick agreed. "And a soft one."
And just like that, the others let out a collective sigh of relief. No one said anything, but I could feel them all relax, proving they'd expected one of us to resist what we all knew had to happen. Then Sia nodded as if she was trying to convince herself this was allowed, and she just stood up.
"Let me change real fast, ok? Give me like ten minutes?" she asked.
Nick waved her down. "Yeah. I need to finish this chapter, and Bel has to put away his book. You've got time,