The massive doors of the grand hall were just within Raizael's reach when a sudden, intoxicating warmth flooded his senses. The scent of crushed black roses and heavy demonic pheromones hit him like a physical wall. Before he could take another step, a pale, slender hand shot out, grabbing his armored forearm with an unyielding grip.
Raizael paused, turning his head to look back. Matriarch Lilithia stood there, her amethyst eyes narrowed into slits of sharp, undeniable possessiveness. The playful, mocking smile she usually wore was entirely gone, replaced by a dark, intense hunger that vibrated through her obsidian wings.
"What happened, Lilithia?" Raizael asked, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.
She didn't answer with words. Instead, she aggressively pulled him by his collar, dragging him down the narrow, secluded corridor straight into her private, crimson-lit chamber. The moment the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind them, Lilithia threw herself into his arms, crashing her lips against his in a deep, desperate, and thoroughly violent kiss. She bit lightly at his lower lip, her tongue invading his mouth with a wild, commanding heat that instantly set his demonic blood on fire.
Leaning her entire voluptuous weight against his chest, she shoved him backward. Raizael hit the plush velvet canopy bed with a dull thud, his midnight-black royal armor clattering against the silk sheets.
Lilithia stood over him, her amethyst eyes burning with a feverish intensity. With a swift, aggressive motion, she shredded her dark gown, the fine silk tearing down the middle like paper under her sharp nails, completely exposing her smooth, voluptuous curves to the dim crimson candlelight.
"Since my prince is going to get married so soon..." Lilithia whispered, her voice a low, throat-stretching purr as she straddled his lap, her bare thighs pinning his waist against the mattress. "Let me give you a proper marriage present first. Don't you dare think that any other woman can claim what belongs to me."
Without waiting for his response, she dropped her hips heavily, locking their bodies together with a sudden, suffocating closeness. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, her back arching violently as the intense warmth of their connection instantly flooded her senses.
"Ahnn! Raizael!" Lilithia shrieked softly, her head tossing back as her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders. She began to move with a fierce, high-speed rhythm, using her hands to grip his broad shoulders for balance as she actively led him toward the climax. Her hips shifted in a rapid, relentless cowgirl motion, the sheer friction generating a suffocating heat that made her skin gleam with sweat under the candlelight.
"You really are a wild one when you're jealous, Lilithia," Raizael growled darkly, his hands coming up to grip her voluptuous waist with a bruising force, his crimson eyes flashing with an unholy light as he matched her aggressive pace from below. Every heavy, upward thrust he delivered drove her straight to the edge, making her body lock up in pure ecstasy.
"Yes... I am crazy for you! Don't you dare look at that elf... ah! Move faster, Raizael! Break me!" Lilithia moaned hard, her voice breaking into breathless, desperate whimpers as she jumped on him with a wild, uninhibited abandonment. She lost all sense of restraint, her obsidian wings flutched violently with every rapid impact, her tail wrapping tightly around his leg to pull him even deeper into her warmth. The room was filled with the wet, echoing rhythm of their colliding bodies and her endless, throat-stretching cries of pleasure, pushing the boundaries of sin until a final, explosive wave of absolute ecstasy completely broke their consciousness, leaving them panting and entirely spent in a tangled heap of silk.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the obsidian palace, the atmosphere was thick with cold, silent tension.Inside the grand, gold-decorated royal guest suite, the heavy purple curtains were drawn, leaving the room in a soft, elegant twilight. Morrigan and Princess Sylphiri stood beside a marble vanity table, carefully laying out a collection of fine silks, ornate jewelry, and a stunning dark-embroidered royal dress meant for an engagement ceremony.
Xaria sat rigidly on a stool, her posture a stiff fortress of anger. Her molten amber-gold eyes burned with a venomous glare as she watched the two women move around her.
Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Xaria snapped her gaze toward Sylphiri.
"I didn't expect any less from the high-elf species," Xaria spat, her voice dripping with sharp, bitter sarcasm. "Your elders always bragged about your ancient lineage. Yet, the moment a demon prince barks, your princess surrenders without a single fight. Have the high elves completely lost their pride, Sylphiri?"
Sylphiri's breath hitched, her face flushing as she glared at the floor, unable to defend the speed of her own submission. Xaria sneered, turning her fierce gaze toward the silver-haired woman gracefully brushing out a silk veil.
"And you," Xaria hissed. "The celebrated Holy Maiden. You were meant to lead the armies of light! What are you doing here? Are you truly so pathetic that a few words from a villain made you throw away your divine vows?"
Sylphiri braced herself for a sharp retort, but Morrigan didn't flinch. With a completely collected and calm demeanor, Morrigan finished smoothing the fabric before turning to look at Xaria. Her silver eyes were like a still pool of water, entirely unbothered by the harsh insults.
"You speak of pride, Princess Xaria, because you still believe the story the world told you," Morrigan said, her voice perfectly steady. She stepped closer, placing a hand on Xaria's shoulder. "But Prince Raizael is not the monster you think he is. You think he is a tyrant who locks us in cages..."
Morrigan paused, a soft, melancholy smile touching her lips.
"The truth is... he saved my life. He saved me from being publicly executed by the very Holy Church I dedicated my youth to."
Xaria's breath caught, her eyes widening in absolute shock. The words shattered her understanding of the continent's politics. A demon prince saving the Holy Maiden from her own church?
"W-What are you talking about...?" Xaria stuttered. "Why would the Empire execute their own saintess?"
Morrigan turned back to face her, her silver hair catching the dim light as she took a deep, heavy breath.
"It began three months ago, during the Grand Solstice Prophecy," Morrigan whispered, her voice carrying a haunting weight as the room fell into silence. "The Holy Emperor Malakor ordered a secret trial... and that was the night I learned the true nature of the 'light' we worshiped..."
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