Hell's Consort

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The Vampire King Apollyon

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A few seconds later, a small rabbit hole expanded from the ground as golden and turquoise light broke into the Ivory Tower.

There was extreme suction coming from the hole the moment it expanded a little, just enough for the young lass to plunge herself in.

The sucking pressure grew more extreme as seconds flew by, and it vacuumed all the jagged pieces of glass.

Apollyon held on his chair to ground himself as his inky-black hair stuck to his chiseled face, covering his eyes.

Everything happened so fast that it took Apollyon a long time to get himself together and stop the young lass from leaving him just how his Empress had done.

The ghost child jumped through the rabbit hole without looking back.

Apollyon didn't go near it, afraid that he would get sucked by this quicksand and couldn't find his way back to the Vampire Realm.

Yes, he was curious about where the little girl would go but not to the point where he would join her to the unknown.

The ghost child was too wild for her own good, but at least she had an anchor—her physical body in whichever Realm she lived—while Apollyon had none.

No matter how far the little girl roamed, she can always find her way back.

Apollyon couldn't move away from the Ivory Tower because he would like to think of himself as Luna's anchor--not her physical body.

Apollyon wanted to be here when she got back home.

Luna would come back because she loved him and not because of a mere cord that tethered her blood to his.

Once they are connected physically, then, and only then will, he would live in stillness, quiet, and peace.

Apollyon watched the black void closed in continuance, closing in on her sinking form until it became a tiny dot.

It was too late.

The child came and left through a hole she created and jumped into it, disappearing into this vast universe as if he had imagined the whole thing.

Rooted to his spot, Apollyon blinked rapidly for a few seconds before stepping towards where the ghost had generated the black hole.

Narrowing his eyes, Apollyon crouched at the space where it should have been and put his palms flat on the red carpets.

Apollyon absently tapped his lips as he observed, wondering if he could recreate a portal to Hell like the young lass.

What were the consequences he would face if he deemed successful?

He had read about Portal Creators before in one of the forbidden books he had acquired from all over the Realms, and it involved dark magic.

He knew the only people who can open portals were the High Priestesses of the Goddess Hecate.

Apollyon sighed heavily when the same old thought pestered through his mind these last few years.

What if he hadn't taken his wife's virginity?

She would have the power to come and go everywhere she pleased, and those Archdemons—not even him will not hold her down.

She would have escaped from his clutches and leave the Realm despite the blood bond, or… she could have stayed with him if he didn't act like an egotistic asshole, forcing her to marry him.

He would not have enjoyed the tasty delights she had hidden under those skirts and the secret sweet spot between her legs.

Apollyon would never have known true pleasure, and that was to be buried to the hilt in his wife's womb—to finally have something he could fully call his because of the mating bond.

He remembered how warmth permeated through his body when her skin would brush against him by accident and how the butterflies in his stomach moved in a frenzy whenever she wore something shocking and seductive.

He finally had someone to love without fear of coming across as a fool to everyone else.

He didn't care what everyone would think of him anymore as long he would have this love once again.

Living.

Breathing.

Love.

He thought the blood bond would make them inseparable, but it was obvious that the pathetic cord couldn't even do anything to make Luna return to him.

It would have been so easy if he made her fall in love with him naturally—slow, stable, and sure.

A river can cut through rock, not because of its power but because of its gentle persistence.

Standing up from his bent posture, Apollyon pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut in regret.

He added that to the list of mistakes that would haunt him tonight.

An icy breeze blew from at the nape of his neck for the second time tonight.

He knew someone else was in this chamber with him.

Again.

Why can't people leave him alone?

"Your Highness." Clenching his jaw, Apollyon heard Cederic spoke softly behind him.

Apollyon was startled, but it was good that he did not flinch.

A Vampire King should remain alert and should not react to small surprises.

As his muscles almost jump out of their own accord, Apollyon suddenly heightened to increase the military general's personal distance, but he curbed it.

He knew that it was his pride talking.

He didn't want to appear vulnerable in front of others—too exposed from people's scrutiny over his weakness.

That was why he had hidden away from the rest of the world.

He had never sensed Cederic's presence a few seconds ago before he materialized by the Ivory Tower's window.

Before, he would have considered that alarming.

Sometimes, Apollyon had this paranoia losing his magic abilities because his brain had dulled, and reaction time against others was slow.

He could sense that Cederic was waiting for him to face him and not talk behind his back like this strictly.

Hopefully, his mourning wouldn't lead to extreme paranoia because he needed all the strength he could get to bring her back to the Vampire Realm.

Apollyon chose to remain in his position, standing as he faced Luna, Cederic be damned.

He crossed his arms tightly over his chest in stubbornness as he muttered under his breath. "What is it, Cederic?"

"The Faerie Prince Aspen is here to see you."