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litnerdwrites · 5 months ago

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I was out all day yesterday, so I couldn't upload it then, so here it is now. Day seven, extended version. I do have plans to make this a series, and once I have all three series planned out, I'll be sure to ask who's you want to see first. Be sure to look out for more Euphemia content until then too. On a side note, did anyone see Kerri's stories, where she was scrolling through the first few pages of Throne of Secrets. We got a glimpse at the first couple of pages and honestly, ever teaser just makes me more impatient to read it.

This is probably my favourite piece, and the longest that I've written. Even though it's extended, there's so much more that I wanted to add, that I'll probably put into the series. I really loved writing Lust, and trying to balance gentle, romantic side with his lustful, jovial one. Although, I don't think there was much room for the latter here but I'll be sure to give it ago in the series. What are some of your favourite Lust moments from the trilogy? Let me know! @princeofsinweek

Day 7: Lust/Lover

Speak Now - Lust x OC

WC:4,077

TW: Almost forced marriage, abuse (father striking his daughter, plus forced fiancé hurting bride), mentioned death of a parent, mentioned canon typical violence.

Amara was stone faced as her ladies maids tittered around her, tugging, tucking and tidying up her hair in preparation. They had tried to make smalltalk at first, but when she didn’t respond, they quickly gave up.

She wanted to grimace at her reflection. She wanted to tear the pins and veil from her hair. She wanted to smear the makeup from her face, even if she had to break a few nails and tear her skin to do it. She wanted to rip the silk and lace from her body, and throw it to the pigs.

She wanted to run.

But she couldn’t.

All because she had nowhere to go. Noone to turn to.

The gown itself was classic. An a-line gown made of silk, with a sweetheart neckline, and thick lace sleeves. The ivy patterned lace reached right to where her neck met her head, and somehow managed to irritate her skin. Yet, despite her growing discomfort, she remained like a statue, even as the maids began wondering if she even lived or not.

“You will wed the Prince, and you will finally make yourself useful to me,”

Even as it echoed in her own mind, her father’s voice remained harsh, arguably colder than even the northernmost flaming tombs. It became his usual attitude after her mother had been killed by who Amara now knew was the Goddess of Death in an act of vengeance. The father she knew and loved lasted until the funeral, but once people began moving on with their lives, things began to change. Gone was the gentle, doting father she knew, and in his place was a shell of a man who only sought power and fame.

Even at the expense of his own daughter.

Part of her, thinking back to that night, when she felt as though things had turned around for her.

Growing sick of the scent of alcohol and sex in her home, she’d wandered to one of the many cliff sides in Palermo.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there, eyes locked on the crashing waves below, but not really looking at them.

It would be so easy to just… Push herself forward, and let herself fall. So, so easy.

But, before she could properly contemplate the idea, he was pulled from her thoughts by the distant sound of music. As if in a trance, she made her way down the side of the cliff wondering if it was the cold, or anticipation that had her limbs trembling. What she hadn’t expected was to find a bonfire, and a single male dancing on the beach.

The sculptures that nobles commissioned from renowned artisans to line their overly elaborate halls must’ve been inspired by the man. His skin was gold, and hair dark. His charcoal eyes seemed to glow under the light of a flaming circlet that wrapped around his head. Yet, somehow, she got the impression that if she met his gaze, she’d feel like she was trapped in a darkened abys

se of desire.

“If you like what you see, then why not join?” The male’s voice jolted her from her thoughts.

He had been across the beach a moment ago, but now he stood right in front of her. Too close. His face was too close, as he bent at the waist to examine her. It was only then, when she felt that flaming circlet flicker against her forehead that she realized how… Wrong- no. Not wrong. How… Strange it was.

“Doesn’t your head get hot during the summer?” she had blurted out, before slapping a hand over her mouth.

The man’s eyes widened, and he had jerked back, clearly surprised by the question. He observed her, eyes narrowing somewhat, before leaning back, letting his lips spread into a grin.

“There are no summers where I’m from,” he shrugged. She blinked up at him, hands still pressed to her mouth, but eyes wide and curious. He seemed so jovial when she first saw him, then he looked like he could see all of her secrets laid bare, before going back to seeming like he was having fun. “Should you not be more concerned by this?” he cocked his head to the side.

Amara dropped her hands from her mouth, and blinked up at him again. After a few moments under his expectant gaze, she raised a brow, and rocked on the soles of her feet, answering with a shrug. “No. My mother was a witch,”

Lust’s brows shot up.

“You seem remarkably comfortable sharing that, when all it would take is the wrong person overhearing for you to be condemned,”

“You aren’t exactly human either, in case you hadn’t noticed,” she pointed out, “I know enough about malvagi to know that if you wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Clearly, you don’t. Not as of yet, anyway,”

Lust’s brows shot up again, as he circled her.

Amara held her chin high, eyes tracking the male.

Silence stretched on for what felt like hours, though was likely only minutes.

“Do you know who I am, Stella Stregah?” he finally asked.

“A Malvagi,” she stated, matter of factly, before looking behind him, “Why are you having a bonfire all alone?”

“Would you care to join me?” was the only response he gave.

“Will you attempt to use your powers on me?” she asked.

“Dance with me, and perhaps you’ll find out,” the demon bowed at the waist, offering his hand to her.

Amara eyed him skeptically, but shrugged and accepted.

Music filled her ear again, though there was no discernible source, as the demon guided her through the steps. Amara let him. She followed his lead, though never once made eye contact with the demon.

“Which one are you?”

“I am the Prince of Lust,”

She narrowed her eyes on him. Taking a moment to examine herself, and thinking over their interactions thus far. It didn’t seem like he used his powers on her.

“Why haven’t you tried to influence me with your sin, yet?”

“Believe me, I’ve been trying,” Lust huffs.

“What?”

“Our powers can only inflate emotions that are already present. When I reached out to inflate yours, I sensed no emotion to inflate. Either you truly feel nothing, or they’re so deeply buried that even I can’t find them,”

“I…See,”

“Is that why you considered jumping from the cliff, Stella Stregah?”

Lust raised a brow, examining the way her face scrunched.

“That’s not your concern, Malvagi.” Amara snapped, moving to pull away.

He chuckled, yanking her into a spin, before she could, then caught her, and pushed her into a dip, hand cupping the thigh of her raised leg. His face was mear inches from hers.

“No need to be so wrathful, little witch. Let go of your troubles for a night. Release those pent up feelings and give in to your desires,”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she told him, point blank.

“I never said you should. Not unless those are your desires,” Lust shrugged, not rising from the dip, letting his hand trail down her leg, “Dance. Drink,” she glanced behind him to see a table of drinks and food she hadn’t noticed before, and on the other side, comfortable looking chairs were laid out around the bonfire, “Rest. Talk. Sing. Give into whatever brings your pleasure,”

“You mean to feed your sin,”

“Perhaps. But can you deny that giving in to pleasure, forgetting what ails you, even for a single night, would be bad?”

It wouldn’t. She knew it wouldn’t.

“Surely you have plenty of people available to feed your sin,”

“Yet I crave you,”

Amara’s eyes narrowed.

“If I give into pleasure, you won’t use your sin on me?”

“Not unless you ask, little witch,”

“Then it’s a deal. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight.”

It hadn’t been just for a night.

She had returned two nights later, and made the same deal again, swearing it was the last time. Then again. And again. And again. And again.

Eventually, she gave into more and more of her desires, spending more than a couple of those nights with him making love on the beach, or in a cave. One time, he’d even appeared in her bedroom while her father was out drinking. Lust had wrinkled his nose when he appeared, be it at the sorry state of the place she lived in, or the clear evidence of her father’s vices, despite his own position, she couldn’t tell.

Eventually, she’d found herself coming to enjoy the jovial prince’s company. Perhaps it was unwise to do so, given what she knew of the malvagi, yet, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Even as she began to desire more than just his body. Instead, she longed for tender nights where he held her by the fire after a particularly vigorous session of love making in a cave.

Foolishly, she longed for the scowl he gave at her proposal to roast marshmallows over his flaming crown, before reluctantly agreeing if only she never shared it with her brothers, only to watch her oh, so tenderly as she made s’mores for them. Above all, she longed for the high she felt in his presence, which she recently learned wasn’t due to his sin, but rather her own feelings, and delusions.

That was all it was. Delusions.

Princes of Hell are content to rule alone, with no desire to share their power with anyone.

Now, at least she had her memories to hold onto as she got married. Then, when Prince Zarus would transform her into one of his own at the reception, right before injecting her with his venom, she’d likely lose all senses, or memories of her Prince. Perhaps that would be the mercy. To forget all of it, and be lost in the oblivion for the rest of eternity.

A sharp knock snaps her from her thoughts. In the mirror, she watched the lady’s maids quickly shuffle out, but glanced away at her father’s entry. She refused to even look at him.

He, obviously, noticed this too, but for once, did not strike her. Instead, he examined her.

“You don’t look like a whore, for once,” he comments. Amara said nothing. “Don’t look so sullen when you walk down the aisle. You are to wed royalty, and if you wish for comfort in your new life, do not let the prince tire of you.”

“Don’t pretend this is for me,” she whispers, “All this is so you can gain wealth, power and immortality. You care nothing for how I feel about the matter.” Tears well in her eyes as she gazes at her reflection, feeling like an imposter.

Her father approached, ignoring her flinch as he placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning beside her head to watch her in the mirror.

She refused to meet his gaze.

“Nonsense. You’re the precious,” his hands squeezed uncomfortably tight, voice strained, “daughter that my wife left behind before she died. I am merely doing what is best, so that you might live a life of comfort,”

Amara wanted to retort. To hurl insults and decor at him, but knew the guards would happily inject her before the wedding started, upon their Prince’s orders, and drag her down the aisle in that state of euphoria if that’s what it took. She didn’t want that. She wanted to put it off as long as she could. Yet, she also wanted to be rid of her father.

Mercifully, another knock at the door dragged her father away with one, final, painful squeeze of her shoulders.

She barely noticed the newcomer enter after her father, the woman draped in silver, emanating a familiar sensuality. Amara’s eyes snapped to hers as she pressed a finger to her lips. A slip of paper drops in front of her, before she uses transvenio to make her escape.

Eyes wide, Amara reaches for the paper, slowly unfolding it.

My dearest Amara, You don’t have to say yes. Meet at the back door and I can take you away from here, somewhere you’d be happy. I’d give absolutely anything for that, so I ask that if you wish to escape this, then come find me. I’ll be there until the reception ends. Forever yours, Prince Lust.

The message burst into flames, leaving behind a slip of paper with a map drawn on it. It appeared to lead from her room to the place he was waiting. The only issue were the guards outside her room. With furrowed brows, she shoved the paper into her pocket, hoping she’d have a chance on the way to the altar.

Finally, when her father came to collect her, she walked to the end of the hall.

“Father. I- I forgot my necklace! Could you go back and get it?”

“Just leave it, before we’re late,” he assures, with thinly veiled irritation and faux kindness.

“But it was a gift from the Prince. He’d be terribly angry if I don’t,” she tried.

Her father raised a brow, but nodded to the guards, who turned back. She and her father had watched them head back up the hall, to her room, before she turned on her heel, reaching for the paper. She’d made it halfway up the hall before a firm grip pulled her back.

“Where do you think you’re-” he noticed the paper. His eyes slid over the map, narrowing on it. Before she knew what was happening, a sharp sting was felt across her face, strong enough to send her to the ground, “You whore! You think you can escape this? You think you can embarrass me?!”

She shrank under his ire, more tears welling in his eyes.

“I- I’m sorry-”

He yanked her up by the arm.

“No. But you will be. Just you wait until the reception is over,” he hissed, “Now compose yourself,”

She did her best as they stood in the hallway, certain that the guards heard everything. A put of dread opened up in her stomach and minutes ticked by far too slowly, yet far too quickly at the same time. Each second was like a step towards the gallows.

She barely processed the guard’s return or her father clasping the necklace around her. She didn’t bother to hide her stiffness, or heartbreak, even as her father snapped at her to smile. As far as she was concerned, this was as good as walking to the executioner’s block.

The doors to the throne room opened, revealing the altar, where the immortal throne, where Zarus, sat at the end of an aisle laid with red and black petals.

Amara didn’t care much what plant they were from, only that it felt like a mocking reminder that the path to her future was scattered with more and more burdens to laden her shoulders.

She didn’t notice when she got to the altar.

She didn’t acknowledge the priest, or her fiance.

She stood in stony silence, with the eyes of bloodsucking monsters pinned to her.

The lines she dreaded most were coming.

She hardly felt like she could breath, much less speak.

She wanted to run.

She had to run.

She needed to run.

Run.

Ru-

“Do you, Amara Willows, take Prince Zarus to be your Prince and your husband, and to serve him and his court, for the rest of eternity?”

Her throat dried up.

She couldn’t speak.

“Amara?” a distant voice called.

She couldn't discern who.

She could feel her father’s harsh glare on her, and the Prince’s hand tightening on hers.

“Amare Willows, do you take-”

She couldn’t take it. She ran. Amara practically jumped off the altar, gown bunched in her hands, as she raced for the doors. There was yelling, and she felt pain in her foot as she stumbled, shoe falling off in the process, but she refused to acknowledge the pain as she made for the doors. It only really sunk in as two guards caught her arms in a bruising grip.

“Let me-”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask those with objections to ‘speak now’ or some bullshit?”

Amara’s head snapped towards the door at the familiar voice. Charcoal eyes met her own, and the flames that circled his head flickered somewhat brighter. As per usual, he wore an embroidered suit jacket and pants, foregoing the shirt.

It was him.

He was here.

Her prince was here.

“There is none in this court who would dare object to their Prince’s union,” scowled Zarus.

“Luckily I’m not part of this court then,” Lust grins, ever the jovial one, “So allow me to say with all sincerity in my non-existent heart,” he mocked, only, there was something different. His eyes had an intensity about them that she’d never seen before, “that I object,”

“Lu-” she tried to reach out, only for Zarus to appear in front of her.

The guards back off when Zarus grabs her wrist.

“On what grounds? You have no right to interfere in our affairs,”

“I do when you take a member of my court,”

“My daughter has never been a member of your vile court!” Her father interrupted, his face going red, from embarrassment or rage, she couldn’t tell.

“You see, that’s where you're wrong,” Lust starts, as he begins his way up the aisle, “She and I had made a deal, that involved her allowing me to fuel my sin through her several times a week. Marrying you would prevent her from holding up her end of the bargain,”

Her eyes widened as she recalled the deal she made, time and time again.

“Each corner of The Underworld has its own set of laws. Human law, the law of the Shifting Isles, dictates that a woman may not enter such agreements without her father or husband’s consent, deferring only to their female line in the absence of a male relative,” her father snapped.

“Yes, however, each law can be overturned by The King,”

“Not without valid reason to-”

“And there is,” a new voice called.

The man who just entered is burly, with dark hair, tied back with leather, and upswept, dark eyes. A scar is carved through his right cheek, a silver gleam against his darker features, and fine black suite. Despite how bored the man seems, the way his hand remains in reach of what appears to be a dagger’s sheath makes it clear that he’s been assessing everything with a warrior’s eye. He came prepared for violence.

Lust told her about him before. Anir. The King’s second.

“Consent is the most important aspect of courtship and marriage. Yet your bride doesn’t appear to want to be here at all,” Lust muses.

“What nonsense-” her father snapped, but was cut off by a withering glare from Anir.

“The King has asked me to confirm this. If it is true, then he’s willing to recognise House Lust’s claim of the woman, and has ordered me to leave behind a declaration of war as a result,” Anir holds an envelope between two fingers.

“This is ridiculous-” her father attempted again, only to be cut off again.

“Of course my bride wishes to be here,” Zarus turns from Anir to Amara, grip tightening painfully on her wrist, “don’t you?”

Amara winces, unable to speak from the strength with which he was holding her. Anir examined her, waiting, but the pain in her wrist became too much. She was sure he was crushing the bone, even before she heard a snapping sound coming from there. She wanted to cry out, only for the pressure on her wrist to vanish in a moment.

That was the moment the petals scattered on the aisle started coming closer. It was as if she was falling.

It wasn’t until warm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her to a warm chest, that she saw Lust kneeling beside her. Through her gaze, though blurred with unshed tears, she noticed a female demon, the one from before, gripping the Prince’s hand almost as tightly as he did her’s. Tighter perhaps.

A warm hand gently guided her face away from the sight, so that she might meet the gaze of her prince instead.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t make it,” she whispered, thinking to her failed attempt at escape,”

“It’s okay, little witch. I’m here now,” Lust whispers, cradling your body.

You turn to see the man, Anir, approaching too. His gaze is calculating as he observes you, likely trying to figure out what to report to his prince.

“What’s important now is that you’re honest,” he tells you sternly, though not unkindly, “If you don’t wish to marry Zarus, speak now, Miss Willows,”

Her heart races at his words, at the opportunity to escape. She wants to reach for it, to grasp it but-

“But where will I go?” she asks weakly.

Lust, who was cradling her wounded wrist in his hand, smiled gently at her. Like he had many times before.

“You’ll come with me,” he whispered.

“But why? You have so many demons to feed your sin, so why-”

“Because I want you,” he reminds her, “I’ll tell you as many times as you need. I want you. Not anybody else,” he leans down to your ear, “Come back with me, to House Lust. Join my court officially. Be mine. Let me make you my princess, and then be mine. Mine for eternity,”

“Lust-”

“Hush. Let me finish,” he waits for you to nod before speaking, “In return, I’ll give you all the comfort and pleasure you want. I won’t have dalliances with anyone else. I won’t look at anyone else. Nobody but you. I’ll give you whatever your heart desires, if you just say ‘yes’”

He’s practically begging, in front of the entire vampire court, and his brother’s second, no less.

You don’t bother to contain your tears as you lean up, wrapping your good arm around him.

“Miss Willows-” Anir begins.

“Amara, I forbid-”

“Yes,” she manages to get out through her sobs, not breaking your gaze from Lust’s, “I want to go to House Lust. I want to leave this place,”

Anir nods, beginning to address the room again, but you pay it no mind. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Lust’s shoulders, mindful of the injured wrist, and buried your face there. The demon from earlier tried to console her, only for Lust to wave her away. He could feel her emotions. The fear, and heartache for her situation, all overshadowed by relife, joy, and desire for her freedom, for Lust. He felt no need to inflate it, instead, he gently encouraged her to let it out however she needed.

It was only when Lust deposited her on a bed covered in deep plum silks, and overly stuffed pillows.

“Care for a bath?” he asked.

“As long as it stays one. I’m far too tired to do anything right now,” she murmured to him.

Lust chuckled, but agreed, as he helped her from, what he called, an inordinate amount of fabric, as she giggled and reminded him that it was only two layers.

“Two layers too many,” he huffed, before tearing the dress from her body and depositing her in the bat.

While she soaked, Lust gently wiped the makeup from her face, before pressing a kiss to her temple. He brought some ointment and bandages for her wrist, silently wrapping it, before carrying her back to bed.

“If you don’t wish to sleep bare, I could have some night clothes brought,” he gently offered, as he helped her dry off.

Amara shook her head.

“I’ve slept beside you, naked, in caves, and on sand. I think I’ll be fine to do so while wrapped in the most comfortable silks I’ve ever seen,” she assured.

Lust smiled, nodding, before reaching for something from the bedside.

“I only wish for your comfort, little witch, before I make good on one of my promises,”

Amara blushed at the reminder.

“You don’t-”

He ignored her as he took a ring in one hand, hew good wrist in the other.

“I want to. Let me make you my princess. My fiance. My only lover,”

She stared at him, noting sincerity in his dark eyes. Amara nodded.

“Then, from now until eternity, be mine, Lust,”

Lust slid the ring to her finger, then pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Mine,” he nipped at her.

She giggled, and nipped back.

“Mine,”

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palaceofimperium · 8 months ago

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A REQUEST FROM A PRINCE - 1

Mithos has to deliver a request from Prince Amon to Abriella...what could he possibly want?

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Abriella looked up from the book she was reading to try to relax after the excitement that had happened in the last few days with all of her friends showing up, then Kaylin and Asher’s arrival, and finally the commotion with Amaya and Dartan. Adding onto that the visit to her uncle’s castle, and she was just a bundle of nerves with a supernatural migraine. When Mithos had come into her office, she hadn't even heard or noticed him, and when he spoke she was damn sure she had not heard him RIGHT.

Mithos took a deep breath. He wasn’t enjoying this, but it was his duty as a Captain of her Royal Guard to inform her of everyone wishing an audience with her as the Sovereign of Imperium. Before he’d come into her office, he’d considered going to Cruz, but the demon had a feeling the reaction he would get would be significantly worse; and it had been Abriella who had been specifically requested. So, here he was having to deliver the news he was not happy about the least. “Sorry, I didn’t announce myself.” He breathed out, and braced himself. “You have a request from Prince Amon for an audience with you, and he is being vouched for by both Arioch and Raguel.”

Abriella opened her mouth to speak, then she sat up taller and closed her mouth. So she had heard him right, she thought as her head tipped to the side with her eyes narrowing and lips thinning. “Did he say the nature of this request?” There had to be a reason that he’d want to come now. Now, when there was peace in the realm, but there had been upset in the Palace.

“No, Brie, he did not. I have my suspicions.” Mithos knew much, but did not want to say too much, in case he was wrong, and revealed the secrets of others where it was not his place. Abriella’s brows draw together and the look of concern that crossed her face, and it put him in an awkward place. With what he had been privy to before Abriella ascended to the throne, sometimes he felt conflicted in such circumstances. He was devoutly loyal to Abriella, but he would not reveal secrets that were not his.

“And those would be?” Abriella inquired with brows lifting and head tilting more, wondering what her Captain wasn’t freely revealing. While Thinius at times was hard to shut up when he had information, Mithos guarded the secrets of others tightly. She knew this and while she normally respected that, when it came to one of the Princes, it was not a luxury that she wanted to afford them.

“Amon does not wish to rule, he only wishes to feed off of wrath. Why ally himself with the other Princes who will undercut him and be a constant threat as they seek power, when he could come here and get everything he wants with none of the risks.” Mithos considered his next words very carefully so as to not reveal more than he should. It was his supreme hope that she would not dig deeper than what he said. “It is also true that there are some within the realm that mean something to him. If he remains at odds with us, then he is cut off, as well as unable to ensure their safety.”

Abriella’s eyes narrowed at her Captain. There was more to the last part than he was revealing, she was not a stupid woman. He was guarding someone’s secrets, possibly more than one person’s and they must be very sensitive ones for him to be so guarded. She would respect that because she respected him, and more so because she knew that Mithos would literally trade his life for hers. If there was any danger that he sensed, he would not hold back from her. “Do you think he is a danger? I value your council in this, Mithos. He has two males I trust vouching for him, but I want to know YOUR opinion. Please, I ask of you.” Her eyes met his, and he could see the sincerity of her words.

“I do not believe he is a threat to you, or anyone in this Palace. I do not believe he is coming for any nefarious or harmful reasons. We have given Lucifer and Arioch a second chance, My Lady, I believe that if one is going to come and ask similar after he has twice come to your aid in times of need, then we should at least entertain his argument.” Words chosen carefully came from Mithos. He hated reminding her that Amon had saved her life once, at great risk to himself, and aided her another time, again at some risk to himself. However, he would be fair to the fallen angel. Was Amon coming for selfish reasons? Most certainly. Would those reasons put anyone within Imperium in danger? Mithos felt within his being that the opposite would be true, they would be safer with him there and if his legions were loyal to Abriella and Cruz, it would not be a detriment to them in the least.

“Then, based on the vouching of three males I highly respect, I will meet with him. When does he want to come?” She was still reticent to trust that the fallen angel was there for an altruistic reason, but she would at least listen. Listening hurt nothing, and he would be in her realm, in her Palace, in a room she would ensure was seated with those she could trust. All Four of the Horsemen would be there. Her realm and all within it would be safe. Of that she would be certain.

“He can be here whenever you send summons.” Mithos had to work hard to keep a slight smirk from his face. While he knew that if certain other Princes were coming, she would react differently, he was glad to see that she was being logical and also calm regarding Amon. Recent happenings with Gabriel and Damien only had added onto their conflicts with Leviathan and Mammon. Then there was the Spectre Dartan that kept Arioch and Raguel on edge, someone to distract one of the males might not be a bad thing. Abbadon was another that would have to be dealt with at some point. Both Abriella and Cruz had their hands full, thankfully they had Olly and Deacon to share the load. He was proud of both of them that they did take counsel from those around them, even if there were a couple that the demon was unsure of regarding their discernment, but never their loyalty. There were none he knew of that would not lay down their life for another without thought.

“Give me two hours, and then summon him. I need to gather a few whom I trust to listen as well. I want to ensure that we are careful in any move we make now that we have eight vulnerable females in our trust. While many are warriors, all are still adjusting here and some have fragile psyche and I will not have anyone disrupting any of them finding peace in their new lives.” Abriella sat tall and regal, appearing the full Queen that she was, knowing her first duty was to those within the Palace walls. Then to those who counted on her to keep the peace in Imperium. She took all responsibilities seriously, but especially when any of the Princes was involved.

Looking at her, Mithos was proud. He remembered when she first came with Abbadon and while he had come to respect her then, later seeing her as a friend, and Queen. It was only after Abbadon had been banished from the realm that he had seen her blossom into the true leader that he, and her other Royal Guard, had always known was there. Now, as she was handling all of the events that were unfolding around her, he saw in her a strength that many who had fought against her when she was a Nephilim had always feared. She truly was her brother’s sister, and he knew Cruz had to be even more proud than any of them of the woman and Queen she had become.

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foxovobear · 7 months ago

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Miguel has really ruined all franchises for me bc I cannot read any sort of book without imagining the mmc as just Miguel.

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #matthew clairmont? oh you mean vampire miguel #huh? erik bloodsinger? oh you mean fae pirate miguel #whats that? wrath? OH you mean demon prince miguel #every book is now just an au in my mind #they didnt have to make him that hot #thats all im saying

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damienthelordie · 3 months ago

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Doodle dump for Alistair only because i had no idea what to post today lol

#my art #my oc #prince wrath #Alistair #original design #demon oc #demon

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andreai04 · 1 year ago

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Twisted though it may be, that was the power of love. It could usher in warmth and light, and it could also turn a single ember into a raging inferno, destroying those who threatened it. Love might be the worst sin of them all, with its two sides.

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poisoned-peppermint · 8 months ago

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Palette 29: Citali

Wraths second born child

she seems to have inherited her fathers short temper and rash decision making

#oc artwork #my art #oc art #digital art #oc #colour palettes #color palette #moon au #palette challenge #colour palette #palette #unassuming danger #demon #prince of wrath #technically a princess #angels trumpet flowers #princess

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elettraml · 2 years ago

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ℰ𝓂𝒾𝓁𝒾𝒶 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒲𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒽

I'm in love with Kingdom of the Cursed by Kerri Maniscalco ✨.

#comicstyle #drawing #pencil #pastels #kerri maniscalco #kotw #kotc #kotf #kingdom of the feared #kingdom of the wicked #kingdom of the cursed #emilia di carlo #emilia x wrath #wrath x emilia #prince wrath #devil #witch #demon #enemies to lovers

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0-animelover-0 · 2 years ago

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Young Love {Demon Prince}

A/N: I know it's a lot i'm sorry :/

Feminine terms used for the reader.

Summary: Raivo's daughter gets a boyfriend. How does he take the news? How will he react when the guy is half human?

Raivo's clawed hands pulled the hood of his dark cloak down. He huffed as he walked into the huge home you two shared. But then his face softened after seeing you, his wife. "Hello, my lady."

You smiled at your approaching husband. You set your book down and got to your feet. You walked to him and pecked his lips. "Hello, my love. How was it? The meeting I mean."

He smiled back and put his arms around you, kissing you on the lips. "I hate these bloody meetings, honestly." He frowned. "They just eat up time better spent doing other, more important things, I'd say. But, what about you? Did you do anything today?" He seemed to not notice your book, not that he really cared anyway.

You smiled and shook your head. You looked at his broad chest and ran your fingers over it. "Well, my day was fine. But your daughter has a special announcement."

He chuckled. "And what would this special announcement entail, hmm?" He asked, running his hand through his hair. It was a nervous habit, he had to admit. After a moment of silence, he suddenly tensed up in a moment of fear. "Please don't tell me she found someone she loves. she’s too young for that."

He could never understand why teenagers always tried to get into relationships when they're so young and inexperienced. Raivo hated it.

Your eyes softened and you chuckled softly as you looked up into his glowing eyes. "Oh, darling. I know how much you hate to see it but you know teenagers go through this all the time. It's natural. She's young and wants to find love for herself."

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment in disappointment. "I know... I know. But it doesn't mean I have to like it, no?" He asked, letting out a brief chuckle before looking back at his wife. "So, who's the lucky boy, or girl? What should I expect from him or her?"

You shrugged. "I'm not sure. she wanted to introduce him to us both at the same time so I don't know what to expect."

Raivo nodded, stepping closer to his wife and putting his hands on your hips. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's find this kid." He said, before suddenly stopping when his eyes widened a bit. "You... you don't think she’s pregnant, do you?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before throwing your hands up. You turned away from your husband and started walking towards the kitchen to chop vegetables. "Oh, Raivo."

Raivo rolled his eyes and followed after his wife. "You do realize that it is a possibility, right? Young and reckless are the two words that best describe her." He said, his tail lashing slightly in irritation as they walked.

"We should sit them down and give them a good talk about things that come with the... err, fun they're having, if you know what I mean. Maybe if we give them a real scare, they'll wait a few more years?"

You stopped mid-chop and squinted your eyes at him. You pointed the sharp knife at him and raised a brow. "Says the one that got THIS woman pregnant when we were around her age." you said, pointing to yourself when you said 'this'.

He shrugged. "And your point is?" He asked, stepping right up to his wife, his face mere inches away from yours as his tail whipped with a quick burst of movement. "I did something stupid, got you knocked up, and we got married because of it. Does that give our daughter the right to repeat my mistakes?" He asked, his voice raising with intensity.

His glowing, fiery eyes stared deep into your own eyes, practically burning straight through the woman he loved. "Does it?"

Your mouth fell agape and you plunged the knife downwards into the cutting board with so much force it stood straight up. "Are you saying us having intercourse and getting married were mistakes?" you asked, crossing your arms.

He raised an eyebrow in slight shock from the sudden movement by his wife, before responding in a calm voice, as if he hadn't just experienced a spike of panic in his guts. "No, I am not saying that our marriage was a mistake." He responded with an even tone. "But, getting a girl knocked up when you're not married is just irresponsible, you must admit."

"My point about our daughter being an idiot who thinks she knows everything stands, I hope it's not the case." He added on the last part. His tail swayed slightly in annoyance.

You sighed and rubbed your face. "Fine. I get what you're saying. But she knows about all that. We educated her when she was old enough to understand those feelings most teenagers get." You huffed at his swaying tail. "And stop swinging that around!"

"And you're sure she isn't some love-struck teenager? That she hasn't completely thrown out our education from the window because she's too blinded by love?" He crossed his arms, a stern look on his face. His tail whipped in an equally annoyed motion.

"I have to be sure about this before she introduces this boy to us, you know? I need to be prepared, so I think I have every right to be paranoid." He said the last word with a slight growl in his tone.

You sighed again and turned back to the veggies. You continued chopping them up as you spoke. "Yes, I'm sure. She may have your recklessness but she isn't stupid." You threw in a little tease to try and lighten the mood.

He was silent for a few moments before nodding with a sigh. "Sorry for getting mad. I just get worked up in these sorts of situations. But you're right, she most likely isn't stupid." He smiled a bit as his wife threw in that tease.

"Alright, she’s smart... So what if she thinks the boy is the love of your life? What if she wants to get pregnant?" He asked, his voice lower than before. He obviously preferred not to think about it, but he still couldn't help but wonder.

"I started getting baby fever at thirteen. Did I get pregnant then? No. I didn't. Even if she gets baby fever, it won't happen like that." You tried making your point by snapping your fingers at the last part of your last statement.

"And how do you know it won't happen like that?" He asked with his eyebrow raised. "Do you have some sort of all seeing eye that allows you to see our daughter's future?" It was his turn to snap at you. He had always prided himself on his sarcastic nature.

"Are you seriously willing to take the risk of us ending up grandparents at this age? Just from some boy that our daughter has convinced herself is the love of her life?" He was getting worked up again, his tail was lashing now, as his eyes flashed with fury.

You huffed and stabbed the knife into the cutting board again. "First off, we are well over 1,000 years old so that's off the table. Second of all, what if they are in love? From what she had told me, they have been dating for six months."

"Six months is way too bloody little for some kids to know if they're in love!" He was getting angry again.

"What if it's one-sided and she’s convinced herself otherwise? What if he doesn't care about her and he'll end up breaking her heart? And you're okay with that? Is that what you're telling me?" He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his ears were getting hot with anger.

A look of annoyance and growing anger flashed in your eyes. "I knew I loved you when we were six months into our relationship! Do you doubt that too!?" You took in a deep breath to try and keep calm but it failed. "And don't you dare accuse me of not thinking about our daughters' well-being!"

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he let go a sigh. He opened his eyes and looked at his wife for a second before walking up to you, his arms wrapping tightly around your frame. "I am sorry." He apologized.

"I won't accuse you of anything anymore. I promise." He said, his voice soft and calm. He smiled a bit, before kissing you on the forehead. His tail calmed down almost immediately after he apologized. "But you have to admit the risks are too much here to take chances."

You sighed softly and leaned your head on his chest. "I know about the risks that come with this. But it's not our choice to make. It's her life, babe."

He smiled down at his wife. "Yes, you're right... I'm just worried about her, you know?" He nuzzled into your head as his tail wrapped around your waist. "I know she’s a smart girl, but we're her parents, and parents need to look out for their kids."

He then kissed the top of your head. "But you're right. We're not in any right to stop her. If she wants to do it and is convinced that he's the one, we'll let her do what makes her happy. Okay?"

"I agree."

He pulled you into a tight hug, his heart hammering against his chest. "I'm sorry I got mad at you." He whispered to you. "I really am."

He kissed your forehead before pulling away and letting his arms fall by his side. "Well... when does she want to bring him over, huh?"

You looked at the clock hanging nearby on the wall and cleared your throat. "Okay so, don't get worked up but they should be here-" You heard the front doors open and your daughter calling out, telling yu both that her and her boyfriend were home. "-now."

A look of surprise flickered in his eyes for a second before he smiled. "They're here, huh? Finally." He said with a laugh.

His bright, gold eyes shifted their focus towards the door, ready to see who his daughter was gonna be introducing to him and you. "Well, go on then. Bring him here!" He ordered his daughter. "Give us the pleasure of meeting this boy, if he deserves it of course. No pressure on him." He said with a laugh.

Suddenly, a young guy stepped in, his eyes fixed on the two figures before him. One could sense that he felt a lot of pressure, but the boy had a calmness to him that was quite reassuring. He walked up to his girlfriend's parents like a wolf; quietly and carefully, but with clear intent to make a good impression. His hands were in his pockets, and at first glance, he looked quite normal, yet he seemed to carry a certain aura of dignity around him.

Your eyes lit up as you went to the young demon who captured your daughters' heart. You held out your slender hand and offered it to the boy to shake. "I'm Althea's mother. Nice to meet you." That surprised the family. Especially your daughter who always saw her mom as a big 'mama bear'.

The boy reached out his own hand and shook it, he had a firm grip for a teenager. His voice was clear and calm, and he spoke quietly. He looked at the mother-figure of his partner with an unreadable expression, his eyes were soft and gentle as the blue in his eyes flashed. "I am Azazel. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Raivo was watching the interaction very carefully, his attention glued to Azazel's every gesture. He didn't say anything, but one could feel his eyes piercing into the boy's skin as he tried to analyze him. The demon felt like he was some great predator from the wildlife, and Azazel was some dangerous prey that he had to be careful around.

"So son... What brought you to my daughter?" He finally said after a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. "I hope you make her happy, because if you didn't, I won't hesitate to take this personally."

Azazel looked calm and collected, but inside he was screaming in his head. 'Why is this man's eyes so damn intimidating?!' They seemed to pierce right through him and show all of his emotions. 'This demon must be one of the most powerful ones around, if he's just staring at me with those golden eyes of his! Is that why his daughter loves and respects him?', Azazel thought to himself.

You smiled as you read the poor demon's thoughts. You tried not to laugh so you pretended to cough. You put a hand over your chest to make it more believable.

"Are you, uhmm, okay?" Azazel asked with a look of genuine concern on his face. "Do you need some water or something?" He asked, walking up to you as his eyebrows bunched in worry.

Meanwhile, Raivo was glaring at Azazel with his golden eyes as he crossed his arms. His ears were pointed upwards and back, and his tail was lashing in annoyance. His expression was serious, and one could feel like the demon was just waiting for his daughter's boyfriend to make any wrong moves right now.

You smiled and shook your head in response to Azazel's question. "I'm fine, honest. But thank you for asking." You saw the way Raivo got irritated when Azazel got closer to you. You spoke to your husband through your marital bond. ‘Calm yourself, love.’

Azazel nodded. "Okay, just making sure." He said calmly with a smile. His eyes had a kind and gentle look behind his soft blue eyes, but it was obvious that the boy was terrified of your husband right now. He definitely didn't want to cross the great and powerful Demon Prince of Wrath.

Meanwhile, Raivo was silent, he just kept staring down the boy, his eyes scanning his body for the slightest sign of ill intent. ‘Are you telling me to calm down right now, Y/n?’

You smiled at the young demon's politeness. After Raivo replied to you, you squinted your eyes up at him and silently spoke to him again. ‘Yes, I am. Try to be nice to the boy. He seems polite enough.’

Raivo was silent for a slight moment. He looked away, before nodding. He kept trying to analyze the boy, but his golden eyes looked softer now. The demon was still slightly wary around Azazel, but he definitely softened up a bit. He would still watch him very closely though. ‘Fine. I'll be civil. But don't for a second mistake my decency for weakness.’

He let out a long, deep breath from his nose before speaking again. "So, son. Tell me about yourself."

Azazel smiled brightly. "Well, sir. I'm an honor student at an elite high school. I was born and grew up in the mortal realm. At school, I have always been a top student who always scores the highest marks in the class. I play basketball on the school team in my free time." He said quickly without any stutters or hesitation.

Raivo let out a long, deep sigh as his golden eyes remained staring at the young boy at the end of his speech. "Well, that definitely sounds impressive. Tell me, son. What about you makes you think that you are worthy of my daughter? Why should she even give you the light of day?

You almost laughed again as you saw your daughter's face go red from embarrassment. You couldn't blame her, you'd be embarrassed too if you were in the same position as Althea.

Azazel's face turned bright red the second the demon's stern gaze landed on him. "Well, sir. I know that I love your daughter. I am dedicated to her and want to make her happy, and only her. I will always be there for her, no matter the situation. And I will try my best to be the best boyfriend I can be for her."

Raivo studied Azazel for a long moment. "Hmm... very well. That answer seems to be honest and true enough." He said with a smile, his eyes remaining cold and unforgiving as ever. "I trust that you will keep your word then. In that case, you have my permission to date my daughter. But this is your only chance boy. I trust you will take good care of her. Is that clear?" He said while staring down at the boy with those icy golden eyes.

Azazel stood up straight and gave a deep sigh of relief. "You don't have to worry, sir. I will make it my top priority to make your daughter as happy as possible. I will do my best to make her proud of me. I will be the best boyfriend that I can be. You have my word as a gentleman." He said confidently, determined to prove that he is worthy of the daughter of the Demon Prince of Wrath.

"Thanks, Dad." Althea said with a big smile. her face lit up when she saw that her father had given her boyfriend his blessing. she then looked at Azazel confidently, taking his hand happily and squeezing it tightly. she kissed him on the cheek, her face blushing as she did so. "Don't worry. He will be the best boyfriend I could ever wish for. I can feel it. Right Azazel?"

You chuckled and moved your hands in a shooing motion. "Okay you two lovebirds. Go to the dining room. Dinner is not done yet but it will be soon."

You looked at your husband and smiled. "Come, darling. You can help me."

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the-rodent-gentleman · 6 months ago

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Helluva Boss Satan Sketches (Colored) As promised, the colored (and painstakingly shaded) version of those sketches I did earlier for my rendition of Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel Satan, his precious guns - Alpha and Omega - included!

Don't forget to hit me up on Ko-Fi or commissions!

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For better quality views: DeviantArt | FurAffinity | Weasyl

#helluva boss satan #hazbin hotel satan #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #devil #demon #cowboy #wrath ring #satan #satanael #samael #vivziepop #sky #clouds #original characters #prince of wrath #hellaverse #sin of wrath #the rodent's art

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odessa-the-anathema · 1 month ago

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I'm reading Throne of Secrets!! So spoilers for a good chunk of the coming up posts. I'll mark all of them I promise! (This is only first chapter tho lol)

If I had a nickel for every time Kerri Maniscalo UNTRUE killed Wrath in a very graphic scene and you know he's immortal and not TRUE dead but you're still kinda terrified, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

YOU'RE GONNA GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK GIRL

#throne of secrets #kingdom of the cursed #kingdom of the wicked #kingdom of the feared #kotc #kotf #kotw #kerri maniscalco #demon princes #princes of hell #prince of sin #prince wrath #prince gluttony

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a-girl-made-of-stardust · 2 years ago

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“Twisted though it may be, that was the power of love. It could usher in warmth and light, and it could also turn a single ember into a raging inferno, destroying those who threatened it. Love might be the worst sin of them all, with its two sides.” ― Kingdom of the Feared by Kerri Maniscalco

(so, i finally had the nerve to read the last book of this trilogy. I've a lot of opinions about this one. first: right off the bat, there's smut which kinda shock me on the very 1st chapter?! like holy shit can we get a footing first before this porno shit? lol I mean don't get me wrong, I love reading smut and I blush just reading them but damn, Emilia, girl you need to get a grip; I mean I get that wrath is a piece that we all want to taste but constantly thinking of his dick everytime she's with him is too much? second: things are once again too convenient for emilia but compared to the first 2 books, I kinda like her on this one. third: VITTORIA IS BADASS, PERIOD. fourth: I want to see more of the other demon princes, their interactions with each other and whatnot and a chapter or two from wrath's pov would be nice too (he kinda felt like a secondary character in this one; I expected more of him). i also found which house I would be likely in: Sloth. a giant library, you say? COUNT ME THE FUCK IN. fifth: plot was all over the place. like 30% plot, 70% smut. although this book neatly wrapped up all the questions regarding the plot of the whole trilogy but I still didn't like this one. i agree with 2-3 star reviews on Goodreads though. Less action too and less political intrigue (expected more of that but got only a little of it, main couple constantly fucking each other's brains out). saw that there'll be a spin off based on this universe and the 1st book will be about Envy? added that on my TBR list lol. can't remember who uttered the quote above lol maybe it's wrath? 2/5 stars)

#kerri maniscalco #kingdom of the feared #kingdom of the wicked #emilia di carlo #wrath/samael #seven demon princes of hell #too much smut #but wrath is just too *chef's kiss*#february 2023 read

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litnerdwrites · 6 months ago

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Time for day two! Today, we're going to be visiting House Pride, with a piece that's pretty near and dear to my heart. So please, be nice, and enjoy. Let me know if you have requests for any character from this series. I think I'll try posting fics even after this week. I have a whole list of head cannons for Emilia x Wrath child too, if y'll want to read it. Let me know! @princeofsinweek

Day 2: Pride/Reflection and Ego

Shattered Reflection - Pride X Wife!Reader

WC:2,059

TW: Body dysmorphia, mention of self harm, blood, accidental cuts on shattered glass, anxiety, insecurity, mention of sex but no smut.

Index: 'Bella' means 'Beautiful' in Latin, Spanish and Italian. Used as nickname, and term of endearment.

The hurried clicking of heels echoed in the empty hallways, accompanied by the swathes of navy fabric Isabella wasn’t able to gather into her arms before she’d hurried back the way she came. With every step, the ringing in her ears grew louder, threatening to drown out the murmurs of courtiers and well practiced symphonies.

Too thick thighs.

Too big tummy.

Too big breasts.

The words ring in her head, resounding throughout her body. Each syllable is an ache in her heart, and a throb in her temples.

Isabella clutches at her chest, over the shimmering fabric of her bodice, and forces one foot in front of the other. She stumbles as the hallway leading to her room seems to rock with each step, and the sound of drums carrying from the ballroom, and echoing in her ear certainly don't help. Did the musicians playing tonight have drums? Or perhaps it’s her heart? She didn’t know, nor did she care at this moment.

She hacks out a cough, reaching out to grab something for support with her free hand as the floor seems to drift closer and closer. Isa vaguely registers the sound of something shattering, and a sticky residue on her hands.

She chokes on a sob, trying to stand, only to stumble again.

This time, when she collapses to the ground, pain shoots through her knees, as well as the uncomfortable sensation of something stuck in her skin. Pieces of a frame? A mirror? Perhaps a vase? She couldn't tell.

Her throat constricts, a shriek building, demanding to be set free. However, not wanting to draw attention, she forces herself to her feet, ignoring her pain, and begins moving back through the halls until she reaches a familiar hall. Changing her course last minute, Isabella turns from her room, entering one across the hall instead.

The voices continued ringing in her mind, chastising her.

The whole court can probably hear you stomping around up here. Have you considered dropping a few pounds?

Shut up.

If you did hit the training yard though, I bet you’d look so pathetic next to everyone else!

Shut up.

Are you sure you want to subject them to the sight of you? I mean, look at you.

Her eyes snap to the mirror beside her. In its reflection, she can see a portrait of her Prince, hanging just behind her. It didn’t do his angelic looks justice, nor did it quite convey that sinful smile he used to entice just about anyone to his bed.

Shut up.

She stepped closer to the mirror, glancing between the reflection of herself and the portrait. The ringing started getting louder, as her surroundings vanished and all that was left was the mirror.

See? Can you really stand beside him like this?

“But… He loves me,” she rasps, though it felt more like trying to herself than refute the thought.

It would be better for his standing as a Prince of Hell if you weren’t around to humiliate him. You should leave. Then you also won’t prevent him from finding Lucia. I bet she didn’t look like this. I’m sure she was slimmer with soft curves. Nothing like you. Too big in all the wrong places. You should disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear-

“SHUT-”

“Count,”

Her fist stops mere inches away from the mirror.

“Count,” it commanded again.

Everything was loud. The squeak of floorboards. The thoughts in her head. The swishing of her dress. All of it. All too loud, and all happening at once. How could she-

“Count,”

“P-Pride said m-my hair is always done up b-beauti-beautiful,” she stutters, voice choked and raspy from crying.

Had she been crying?

“P-Pride said my smile is con-contagious, and my lips are plu-ump, like strawberries,” she add, slowly falling to her knees before the mirror.

Her heart rate slowly eased, while her vision began clearing at the edges.

“Pride said h-he loves to- to grab my breasts when he’s stressed, lay his head on them when he’s tired, and kiss them when we have sex,” her voice became steadier with each word she spoke.

Still, she took deep breaths as more of the room came into focus, and she was able to recognise the navy walls, accented with silver, and ornate furniture that complimented the marble flooring.

“Pride said he likes my stomach because it’s cute, fun to kneed, a comfy pillow and he enjoys tickling it, even if it annoys me,” This time, Isa’s voice was completely even as she spoke.

“Can you really blame me for wanting to see that blinding smile whenever I please?”

She whips her head around, noticing the Prince in question leaning against the door frame. Isa can only watch him with wide eyes.

Pride’s eyes narrow on her, as he takes in her appearance. Shards of a mirror are stuck in her palms, both of which are still bleeding. There’s also blood seeping from a gash he can see on her on her knee, from where it peeks out from under her dress. Although, her face is probably the most heartbreaking sight that Pride’s ever seen. Bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks stare back at him, along with a runny nose and lips that are raw and red from where she bit and pulled at them.

It was a bad day for her. Pride could tell that much from the moment she wasn’t at the ballroom in time, but while being even the slightest bit late was odd for her, Pride didn’t begin to truly worry until he saw drops of blood and a shattered mirror in the hallway leading to their suite when he went to go find her.

He barely registered using transversa magic to get to his room before he found her crumpled in front of the mirror, a bloody hand pressed against it. He felt his namesake’s sin swelling in his chest as he heard her using the method he taught her to calm down. He’d remembered how bewildered she was the first time he’d told her to order her least favorite features from one to five, one being the least favorite. Confused, she had done as he asked. After that, Pride made her name one compliment, or thing he liked about the fifth feature on that list, two to the fourth, three to the third, and so on, so forth.

“You still need to do the last one, by the way,” he reminds, snapping her out of her daze.

“Oh, Pride loves squeezing my thighs, spreading my thighs, burying his face in my thighs, thinks my thighs are strong strong, and that there’s a perfect amount of them to bite,” Isa finishes.

“There’s a good girl,” Pride grins, walking over to pick her up from in front of the mirror. Caring little for the blood dripping everywhere, he deposited her right onto a comfy couch, knowing she’d lose it if he dumped her on the bed and she got blood on it, “Now stay put,”

Isa only nodded, letting Pride poke his head out of the room for a few minutes. He didn’t go far, and didn’t shut the door. Instead, he stood in the doorway, blocking anyone from seeing in, as he spoke to someone. Moments later, he took something from them, and came back in, shutting the door behind them. When he came back, there were bandages and ointments in his hands, all of which were ceremoniously dumped onto the floor when Pride dropped to his knee.

Gasping, Isabella tried to stand, only for a stern look to force her back down. Pride never kneeled. For anyone. The only time he’d ever knelt before her was less kneeling and more lying down, and it was just so he could feast on Isa. Now, however, his touches remained reverent as he pulled out the glass, before cleaning and bandaging each wound.

“Pride-”

“We’ll talk later, just- Just let me do this first,”

Isa could only nod.

When he was done, he carried her to the bed, before leaving and coming back with a simple, blue tunic. Pride had no intention of letting her do anything tonight, it seemed, as he pulled the gown from her body, not caring as the thin ties snapped at the back. After that, he pulled the tunic over her, and gently pushed her to lay on the bed. Moments later, he was climbing in with her, having taken off his formalwear, and coming back in loose trousers.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, once they were both tucked into bed.

“It got bad,” she whispered, “Worse than before. I took one look at that ballroom, and suddenly, the thought of food made me want to hurl, and having to spend an evening with others looking at me all night, made me want to tear at my skin,”

“Has it ever gotten this bad before?” Pride asks.

“Once, but it was a while before I came here,” she assured him.

Pride rubs a thumb over her cheek, gentle and soothing.

“I’m so, so sorry, Bella,” he whispers.

Isa’s heart picks up its pace in her chest. Pride never apologizes either. Well, not to anyone but her anyway. It appears she’s been the exception to many rules, when it comes to Pride.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she responds, “I’m sorry I made you miss your party. I know how much you love them,”

“Don’t be. I love you more,” he soothes, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“I have one more thing I need to ask, Bella,” he tells her, suddenly serious.

“Yes?”

“The glass shards. Did you do that on purpose?”

“No! No, of course not. I- On my way back up here, everything had overwhelmed me and I was so dizzy, I was reaching for anything to grab onto and I- I ended up grabbing the mirror, and…dropped it…” Isabella trails off sheepishly.

Pride examines her for a moment, his icy eyes carving deep into her flesh, before he finally relents.

“Alright, good. Please remember, that I don’t know what I’d do without you, my Bella,” he whispers, “So don’t you ever, ever, even consider it.”

“I’ll try not to,” she whispers, “But sometimes those voices just make too much sense to ignore,”

“Tell me what it will take to help you, my love. Do you want me to take you on my throne before our whole court, to let them, and you, know who holds whatever’s left of my heart? Is there a person in particular bothering you, that I need to feed to some foul beast somewhere? Do I need to kiss every inch of your flesh until your mind accepts my words as fact? Would you like me to shatter every mirror in my circle, so you can never rely on them to show you yourself again?” he asks desperately.

“I don’t know,” she whispers honestly.

“Then try to remember this; You are my wife. You are the first face I see in the morning, the last face I see every night, and the one face I could never be tired of. I love your belly, even if it’s bigger than others’. I love your thick thighs, and plump lips. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you find something you’re interested in. I love the way you squeal when you see something cute. I love the way your smile instantly improves my mood. I love everything about you, my sweet, beautiful Bella,” Pride whispers to each one with conviction, “Whatever you see in your reflection, pay it no heed. Only my view of you matters. Mine, and nobody elses,”

“Pride-”

His arms wrap around her, pulling her close to his chest.

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, if it means I won’t lose you!”

Isabella relaxes in his hold, though her mind is still racing.

“Just- Just hold me. And help me remember why you love me. Why I love me,”

“Of course, my beautiful love,” Pride whispers, before he begins listing everything he’s ever loved about you off, one by one. From appearance to personality to memories. Pride leaves nothing out. By the time he’s done, you can barely keep your eyes open. Noticing this, Pride chuckles. “Sleep Bella,”

“Goodnight, Pride,”

“Goodnight, my love,”

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