Hell's Consort

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Queen Morgan of the Summer Courts

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"Where are they?" Queen Morgan heard a whisper over her head as the creature gradually descended to her eye level.

Her eyes widened in shock.

That voice didn't belong to Kotar... to Beelzebub at all.

She would have either slayed this enemy with the obsidian swords she held in her hand or retreated away from him so fast before he could say another word but unfortunately, she didn't do any of these things.

She couldn't move as she stared on his pointed shoes, the bottom hem of his silver-grey cloak flitting around him as he flapped his demon wings, and the fine adornments on his waist and broad chest.

Bones. Faerie bones to be exact.

Jagged.

The white Iivory was stained with fresh blood.

The grisly stranger had the guts to have Fae spine wrapped around his waist in exchange for a built, broken skeletal fingers that didn't belong to him hanging around his shoulders and a bison skull on top of his chest as if it was a necklace.

This evil creature was as savage as the Dukes from the Legion positioned behind him.

The difference was that he was proud of what he had done and considered them as a trophy.

From his aura alone, Queen Morgan knew that the demon who just materialized in front of her was an Archdemon Prince.

It was none other than the Archdemon of Lust.

He reeked of dried blood, orgasm and death with every one of her inhalations.

It took her a while to raise her head and meet his eyes.

The bastard was almost as pretty as a woman especially with his long, smooth hair that went past his shoulders.

She tried kept her face blank when she saw splashes of dried blood on his brow and left cheek as if he just murdered someone before he went there.

The wicked smile he showed her indicated that it wasn't much of a struggle.

The Fairfolk had their fair share of darkness in their history but none can perform bloodbath the way the Demon Race do.

They didn't have reasons for their foul actions.

This wasn't even about revenge against the Fairfolk.

Torturing other people with their complete disregard for life was their only source of enjoyment.

It shouldn't be that difficult to identify which being in this Realm was possessed or not.

"It seemed like I was late to the party." The Archdemon Prince drawled 'oh-so-casually'. "I'm looking for Apollyon to give this funerary urn to him, Merle. I have gathered all of the dust I have collected from killing all the vampires in His Kingdom." He proceeded to show a large funerary urn almost half the size of his torso with pride. "The Vampire Race would soon be extinct after I killed all the Vampiric Fae from the Unseelie Courts. Will you allow me to start with the Autumn---"

Luxen released the urn without warning.

"Oop. My hand must have slipped." He said innocently.

Fooled, Beelzebub swooped in to catch but it had already turned upside down in mid-air.

The urn didn't break since its landing was cushioned by the snow.

It's just that... all of its contents had poured out as it got carried by the wind.

The Faeries covered their faces to prevent the dust from entering their nose and eyes.

"Oh. It's a shame that we can't differentiate the scattered ashes from the snow now." Luxen clicked his tongue and said regretfully. "Nevermind. I hope they rest in peace." He stared at her, a dangerous twinkle in his gunmetal grey eyes. "In Hell!"

Their distance was too close that he could grab her by the neck and squeeze the---

Luxen must have divined her thoughts because they tturned into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

It was too late to withdraw from him.

Queen Morgan felt like she was going to faint as Luxen throttled her, stopping the blood from flowing into her in brain.

Black and green spots dance at the corner of her vision.

She clawed her fingers at his hands to dislodge him when his nails sunk deep into her throat.

It was strong enough to dislocate her neck from her spine.

"Release her!" Jora shouted, attacking Luxen to save Queen Morgan.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Beelzebub was already on his tail.

After Sylvain---

She closed her eyes shut and let out a painful moan.

Her consciousness was slipping away and she couldn't find out what happened to the youngest of her Cadre.

If this continued, she might never wake up again.

Perhaps, the Archdemon would let her go if she pretended to faint.

When Queen Morgan stopped thrashing and relaxed her muscles until her arms went limp, Luxen released her and she dropped to the ground in a thud.

Small ragged gasps demanded to escape from her mouth but she tried to even her breathing so they wouldn't know she was still alive.

She lolled her head to the side and swallowed hard but it felt like glass shards were stuck in her throat.

Luxen had already damaged her throat she could barely speak.

From the grunts and screams she heard, everyone was already lost in the chaos.

Before she became the Autumn Queen, Merle had acquired power after her forbidden love affair with Uriel, giving her the ability to fight demons and evil spirits easily so that she could ascend the throne.

She had brought some of these demons to their knees and manipulated them for her own gain while she sent the others back if they were too troublesome to handle.

It was her responsibility to guide lost souls to the afterlife in exchange for having access to Hecate's powers but now, she couldn't control even a single demon in this Legion.

It appeared like they only had one Master to answer to and that wasn't her.

She couldn't accept that she, a powerful Autumn Queen, was reduced to someone who is powerless.

Why did the Goddess Hecate deserte her?