So far as Odiva and his kin were concerned, Samael's interest in Odiva was marred with all kinds of grotesqueness, yet it never wavered. On the contrary, it seemed to increase every time they met; more so when her body welcomed curves. He respected the boundaries between demons and angels, and his advances toward her never moved past honeyed words (and now groans, apparently) though whenever in Hell, it was rumoured he preferred to share his bed with black-haired Seers; most of them oddly resembling Odiva. He behaved somewhat like one, but Odiva knew that even Samael was not the idiot to trigger another war with Hell for a night of lust with a novice Seer who just happened to be the younger sister of the great Seer Jahi, and the niece of the High Seer herself. His stiff celestial relatives would drop him as though he was made of lead. Even a perverted angel like him knew when and how to control himself. Or so she’d like to think. 

“Imagine if I were a demon!” Samael beamed. “Imagine the beds we’d break together, hm? Aah! You have no idea how hard it is, Diva; to look and not touch. Our rulers couldn’t be crueller to us, forcing us apart. The very thought of an angel forsaking heaven for love…” He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek that lasted a few moments too long, though Odiva didn’t move or push him away. 

“Demons know all about temptations, darling. It is the very reason we are demons.” She said dryly. “Rumours have it that there are some of you the fall over to our side, so who knows. I’d give it time in your case. You’re well on your way to becoming one, keeping this up.” She smirked without waiting for his reaction and moved her gaze to scan the crowd of guests who were already flocking to continue the celebrations at Nahar’s grand hall. “Do you have it?”

Odiva didn’t have to face him to feel his amused stare looking down at her. His silence eventually pulled her eyes to meet his pale blue ones. What a pity. Maybe even some demons would consider Samael quite handsome. If Odiva just neglected his angel features and delusions, she could see how attractive he was. He had reasons to be so confident in his stride, and she liked that. Maybe he did break as many beds as he boasted, considering his height—rivalling even that of the sturdiest demons, his girth, his sculpted torso and seemingly his abundant vigour. She liked that, too. Quite a bit. His physique reminded her of the only human she had ever felt something close to attraction during her studies; a certain gladiator she had read about in human history. *Flamma, was it? Yes. Like this gladiator, apparently a champion of his time, Samael was the champion among the angels. Demons who battled him and survived inevitably developed a new respect for the angel. But that was where the allure ended. Samael just… sparkled too much.

His lavish blond hair, lacking horns and resting on his shoulders, was too healthy, too tidy; too in place. It begged to be dishevelled at least once. And his white wings were too white, too resplendent, setting him apart even among his kind. He could will them away, but why would he, since it made him more resplendent. It was part of his dazzling persona to keep them flared up behind him, like a floating cape. And then that sing-song way he spoke to her... She felt she always handled their meetings quite well, considering she never spewed her meals in front of him.

Odiva remembered first meeting Samael when he escorted one of the oldest angels of their realm on his visit to Nahar. Nana Sioh had kicked Odiva out of the hall, seeing as she could not stop laughing at the goofiest angel she had ever seen. His pretence was so awful, it could only be comical, yet he seemed to enjoy her laughter. It was funny then, when she was a younger girl, yet as time passed and he somehow rooted himself in her life, whatever spark of amusement there was, lost itself with time, and his interest in Odiva grew into what humans would call obsession.

More unsettling still, was Samael’s fascination with Hell, which seemed to range between a mix of hatred and love. The lack of distinction between the two gained him enemies, even among his stoned-faced kin. If he so much as deviated from the strict rules of his realm, they would not hesitate to banish him; make him a fallen one. Yet his eyes never hid his excitement when he provoked them. He was a hard one to understand, she admitted.

Odiva knew, since she was a child, that Samael's mellow smiles meant nothing. It was what made him so funny and different when she met him. Like the rest of the angels, his father created him and stripped off emotions, after all. This charm, that grin and these goofy advances—were all mere disguises. They were but a few masks he picked out and mimicked from demons around him. Perhaps to help break up the solitude that was his miserable existence, or perhaps out of curiosity he pretended to feel something, whatever the reasons, Odiva couldn’t say. There had been times, when she was still a young curious maiden, she wondered about him and his kind, and their voracious sexual appetites which didn't appear to stray too far from a demon’s. But did angels even feel anything? Over the years, she didn't get her answer and the curiosity slipped by, simply allowing herself to grow used to him. A small pity, was what she could offer him. If only he were a demon, he would certainly not want for those precious emotions he so blithely displayed.

To think that it would be at the end of this pity party that she would find the solution to her lifelong problem.

Samael reached for the inner side of his right bracer and pulled out a thin parchment. As though it was some tempting sweet, he wiggled it in front of her. Odiva made to quickly snatch it, irritated at his obvious flaunt, but the angel was swifter, and frustratingly taller. It was enough for him to raise his arm slightly for her to miss the grab.

“Fine. Parade it for everyone to see, it’s your head on a platter, not mine. I’ll still be more valuable to Nar than you’ll ever be to your kind.” She scoffed, attempting to conceal the edge in her tone.

“But Diva, we never even discussed terms~. How am I supposed to just  hand this over?” He whispered near her ear. It made the skin on the back of her neck tingle, but certainly not in a good way.

“Stop acting like an idiot.” She finally conceded to irritation.

Instantly, and for the briefest of moments, Samael’s stiff nature revealed itself when his smile dropped. Odiva saw her reflection in his pale eyes, and it was like a soulless being stared back at her. She had seen countless oddities around Nar while growing up, yet an angel’s stoned face was still one of the worst things she’d ever encountered. She admitted that Samael’s preferred odd behaviour made it easier to communicate, as she struggled to even look at other angels who came to Nahar on business affairs. She could only describe them as… faceless.

Whether he sensed her pause or not, he quickly resumed his smile. “My terms then.” His tone sounded heavier than she was accustomed. “You will accept me as your husband.”

It wasn’t the first time Samael had said this, that wasn’t the cause of her surprise. It was the first time he had said it with leverage.

“This again.” She sighed. “Funny how you never mentioned terms when you offered to help me. Save your hopes, darling, it will not happen. The High Seer will never sanction it, you know this. And neither will your pretty little Heaven. Banishing you would be the least of your worries. You keep joking about becoming a demon, but you’d be lucky if that’s all they did to you.”

“It wouldn’t be the end of the worlds, Diva. Some would say it would actually be a start.” He smirked, in a way that gave her shivers. “Tell me, if your High Seer agrees, will you agree?”

Odiva knew Auntie Ammit would rather burn all of Nar before marrying any Seer to an angel. The rules were clear, and had been as long as time itself: A union between a demon and an angel was strictly forbidden. Fraternising with one was no issue; anyone could be with anyone, it was just how it was in Hell. Marriage, however, was a whole different issue. Marriage meant legitimate offsprings. Marriage meant uniting powers. And no one alive knew what a union with an angel would produce, even the Seers couldn’t see that far. If discovered by their kin, demons and angels who impregnated each other were hunted and killed; there was just no room in their worlds to allow for such dangerous unknowns. This idiot was too absorbed in his lower parts to consider any of this, or conceive a proper plan; or perhaps this was his sheer arrogance on display.

“I’d have no choice, now would I? I am but a humble servant to my High Seer.” She said. “This is if the High Seer agrees to it.”

As expected, there were no changes to Samael’s grin. He missed his emotional queues on occasion.

“This is where you smile, Samael. A Seer has just accepted your proposal.” 

“Wonderful,” he said plainly. “The High Seer will agree, don’t worry.”

Odiva felt that old irritation rising. She extended her hand, palm up, so he could finally place the  parchment in her hand.

“You must recite it when you are in the same room as your sister.”

“Jahi… why? She has nothing to do with this.”

“You’re the Seer, you can’t tell me?” He chuckled. Odiva clenched her teeth and wished for all seven Hells she didn’t have to rely on this angel. He knew full well why she couldn't tell him. He knew all too well her situation. 

“I’m kidding! Absolutely no harm will come to the gorgeous Jahi. Though, if you want your sight unsealed; this is the way. You need a strong blood relative near you, as I was told.”

Odiva looked away at the diminishing crowd, her thoughts racing more than she’d like. It was Samael who had suggested her powers had been interfered with. Sealed — was the term he used then. Something none of the other Seers, including Jahi never picked up on? How was that even possible? Someone had interfered with Odiva’s powers, of course! It made so much sense now. It had to have been Nana Sioh, the old wretch hated Odiva so much.

Odiva didn’t like being in a position where she suddenly had to trust the word of an angel, she knew their kind was notoriously hard to read, even if she had her full powers. Now knowing Jahi had to somehow be involved unsettled her more. She would have preferred to leave Jahi out of this, but Jahi was her only living relative. Nonetheless, there was something here; there was a way out of her weakness. This was her path.

Odiva would surprise Auntie Ammit and Jahi all at once after this. She would be the Seer Nar had never seen. And Jahi would never have to worry about her weak little sister again.  

“Your word.” Samael reminded her he was still there, his tone almost demanding and his pale eyes fixed on her.

Odiva’s lips curled into that bitter smile again. “It’s your proposal, your fall, darling. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into by marrying a Seer, angel.”

Samael offered his most gratifying grin and bowed before she turned and walked away.

**

*Flamma (lit. The Flame) was a Syrian gladiator under the Roman Empire during the reign of Hadrian. He was one of the most famous and successful of his time.