Today is the Harrowing in Hell of the Tithe," Samael drawled, crushing me to his chest.
"Like Janet in Tam Lin? Are you the Tithe or I?" I squiggled like a caterpillar as he tickled me.
"Both. Now close your eyes, little Hayah Havah… we must do this together, if you are to be my bride – a journey to the core of who I am. This will see if your heart has taken, and if you are strong enough to be my Queen."
I closed my green gold eyes, fragile as a lotus blossom against his bulging biceps, hard pecs, and broad shoulders.
He slipped death into my brow, and carried me away to the shores of Morpheus' seas:
Samael is the void birthing horrors, tall as half a tree, red crystal eyes, dressed in abyssal Lovecraftian garb and pale as my doom. I take my scythe and meet his in a clang of metal and steel.
