Movement No. 30
Yasmeena
Draven called an urgent meeting with The Devil’s Masquerade, as well as Raph and Luc. Absinthe can’t make it—she’s currently tracking Baelor—but the rest of us sit in quiet anticipation of the king’s arrival.
Things have been strange between me and Tempest lately as we dance on the edge between longing and loathing.
But she was there for me this morning, and I wish I could be there for her right now.
I can’t fathom the anxiety she must feel having to face the pack leaders on her own, but I’m also confident in her.
We’ve gotten the felion’s side of things in order, we just need to take the final steps to get the lupion on board.
I’m the official representative of the felion now. It’s not a title I take lightly, and I plan to wear it with pride. When I told Khalid, he said our parents would be proud.
I’d like to think he’s right, but there’s a heaviness in my heart that they likely won’t ever know. Perhaps there is an afterlife, and they’re watching us. It makes me understand why people believe in such things—there’s a comfort in it, a hope of reunion.
When Luc walks in, he’s dressed more casually than this morning. Donning loose slacks and a button-down, he appears more relaxed.
We get down on one knee. “Our Infernal King.”
“I had a spa day planned for Beelzebub this afternoon, so this better be good,” Luc says, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“We received a notice from The Legion,” Draven says, and everyone visibly stiffens.
“A notice?” Raph asks, his eyes wide with surprise.
Reina looks carefully blank, and Gemma… Gemma must already know what’s in store.
Draven neatly unfolds a small slip of paper.
Luc nods, and he begins reading the contents of the document.
“Our Infernal King,” he starts. “The Legion is writing with an important proposal that demands your immediate attention. As King of Hel and reigning monarch, your leadership and reach span every continent. Your siblings work as governors, organizing and controlling each individual continent under general order, but they do not all act with the same level of care for their citizens.”
My heartbeat picks up in pace, my palms sweating in anticipation.
“The monarchy has systematically ignored or marginalized the half-demon, hybrid, and lupion populations, despite a direct connection to your lineage. The status quo under the leadership of the Morningstar family has become volatile and untenable, leading to issues ranging from taxation without representation, to deadly working conditions, and famine. Demons rule this planet, but it is obvious they do not consider other species when making decisions that affect the entirety of their continents.” Draven pauses and gives Raph a look that says they obviously don’t mean you.
“This letter serves as our official demand that you align your future with the evolved demographic reality of your planet. The era of full-blooded demons is over, and it is time for a new species to reign. Specifically, we require that you marry a half-demon or human of appropriate standing within the next five years, with a soul bond, and produce a half-demon or hybrid heir who will inherit your throne. This union is meant to solidify the future for half-demons and all species on Hel.”
“Do they not understand how poorly this will be received?” Luc asks, face warm with frustration.
“May I continue?” Draven asks, and our leaders nod.
“We are aware that this decision may rile the governors, challenging the traditions and expectations of the upper-echelons of demon society, but it is pertinent that you understand times have changed. The planet has transformed substantially over the years since The Convergence. We must not keep acting like it is the Dark Ages. The rebellion is well underway, and the support we’ve garnered is substantial.
We have earned the endorsement of not only the majority of half-demons and hybrids, but many of the lupion packs around the globe as well.
It is only a matter of time before the lupion and felion settle their differences, and the felion join the resistance. ”
They’re all staring at me now, and I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say another word.
As much as I have loyalty towards Luc and Raph, I would join in an instant if it meant better treatment for the felion species.
Raph and Zada might be fantastic governors, but I know firsthand the kind of vile atrocities Cavan’s citizens are subjected to.
Draven continues reading, his brows furrowed.
“You may have innate magic, but we have found ways to access ours as well. Additionally, there are threads we have dug up from history that we have pieced together, and we are not afraid to reveal more of our cards that could challenge your siblings’ leadership.
We may be a separate faction from Malo, but we will rejoin forces if necessary.
This is not shared as a threat, but as a way to provide the information you need to make the best decision for your future. ”
Reina’s eyes are wide and Raph looks concerned, but it’s Luc’s reaction that strikes me as odd. It’s not rage or fear that settles across his features, but a deep sadness.
“To be clear: this is not a request. It is a demand,” Draven says, paper still in hand.
“Within the next five years, we expect to see the initiation of this union. You have an additional five years to provide a half-demon or hybrid heir. This is only the first step of many towards forging a future where half-demons and hybrids have equal voice at the table, and continued access to our magic. Inaction will not be tolerated. Failure to comply with these demands within the provided timeline will result in further action from The Legion. Malo’s faction has agreed to withhold all militant force until the deadline.
This information is not to be shared with the public or anyone outside of your direct council.
We look forward to your wedding announcement.
The Legion.”
Luc is now smiling, the look on his face unnerving as the rest of us process the gravity of these orders. There’s almost no way Josina and Cavan will handle this well, and I have no idea about the other Morningstar siblings.
“Fucking Hel,” Reina says, stress lining her eyes. “What are we going to do?”
Gemma’s brows furrow. “It’s obvious. Luc is going to search for a spouse.”
“A wife,” he corrects her, and the ridiculousness of his reaction pops the bubble of tension in the room.
“Sorry for assuming,” Gemma says through muffled giggles. Almost everyone in this room is bisexual, and I’m a lesbian, so in her defense… It was a fair assumption.
“No, you fools.” Draven folds the piece of paper back up. “Demons choose their physical form, so none of that matters. He’s correcting you because he has someone specific in mind.”
I always forget how different demons are compared to the rest of us. Even the smallest percentage of humanity changes the way you’re physically formed.
The humor in thinking Luc cares about things like our perception of his sexuality dies out, replaced by the realization of his intended meaning, and I instantly want to go back to about twenty seconds ago.
The brevity was necessary, but now the weird, maniacal smile spreading across Luc’s lips as he nods is making my stomach churn. He still wants Lilian.
“Might I remind you she’s married?” Draven glares at Luc.
“Might I remind you that he’s vile?” Luc says, and his body language alone is more terrifying than the stupid letter.
“I don’t particularly like Baelor, either, but the law is clear, Luc. We’ll find you a wife, but it just can’t be her,” Gemma says, genuinely trying to comfort him.
I think, while listening to the letter, Luc allowed his mind to wander too far.
I watched as his face went from melancholia to a sort of delusional state, and I unfortunately relate.
I too find myself dreaming of a future with someone when I know it’ll never be.
The difference is, I’m not leader of our fucking planet.
“Do we have any idea what the vague stuff was about, threads of history?” Reina asks, but Gemma and Draven shake their heads.
“Not a clue. At some point when we’re not drowning in felion-lupion business and Baelor, I’ll have Yasmeena and Gemma investigate further and see what they can find, but as it stands, I agree with my wife. We need to meet their demands,” Draven says. “It is time.”
“I’m not going to marry someone.” Luc shakes his head, his tone deadly serious.
Draven’s nostrils flare. “As your hand, I require that you do.”
“As your king, I am telling you I will not marry whatever stranger you bring my way,” Luc says, raising his voice. The back and forth between them is almost comical, if it weren’t for what is at stake.
“It doesn’t have to be real,” I say, thinking of Tempest’s and my engagement as I try to calm everyone down. “You could marry anyone. It could be Absinthe for all they care. They’re not asking you to fall in love.”
He shakes his head, and there’s a kind of vicious gleam in his icy eyes, tendrils of shadows coming off him like poisonous vapor. “Are none of you listening? They are asking me to produce an heir.”
“Brother, you’re being unreasonable,” Raph says, but Luc storms out of the tent, his physical form leaving, only a dark shadow left in its place.
We all stare at one another in utter shock, and Raph whispers an apology before following his sibling.
“This is actually ridiculous. Why is he behaving like a petulant child?” I ask, frustrated by the lack of decorum being displayed by our leader.
“I think his decision to leave was mature and logical,” Draven says, and I furrow my brows.
“How so?”
One corner of Draven’s mouth ticks up. “Because if he didn’t excuse himself, one of us was going to leave here severely injured, and I’d bet money it would’ve been me.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just irritated. We have to decide how to react to this letter,” I say.
“And we will. He doesn’t need to make this decision; he just has to follow our plans,” Draven points out. “Even if he wants to throw a tantrum.”
It’s times like this I wish Draven were king.
“Honestly, I don’t blame him.” Reina shrugs. “I mean, that’s how I reacted when you all suggested Khalid should marry Tempest.”
“That’s different. You and Khalid are in a committed relationship,” I say.
“Yeah, fangs. Khalid actually likes you. Lilian can’t stand Luc,” Draven says in jest.
Luc hurt Lilian, but that was in the past. Regardless of how we feel about Baelor, he’s still her husband. Luc needing a spouse all of a sudden doesn’t change that reality.
“Do we have anyone in mind for Luc, maybe someone he’d actually like?” Gemma asks.
I’m about to jokingly suggest Baphomet when Absinthe storms into the tent. Her hair is slicked back with sweat, her makeup melted and sloppy.
“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Absinthe says, pacing the floor, her hands shaking. “I don’t understand.”
“Absinthe.” Draven stands, hurrying over towards her. She’s tall, but he’s taller, and he lets his sister press her head against his chest.
There’s a few beats of silence before full-body sobs rack through Absinthe’s body, her voice shaking as her breaths heave.
“I was looking through unsolved cases when I noticed something odd connecting a bunch of rapes,” she starts, tears still falling. “I followed Baelor and he… he was going to attack this girl. She can’t be older than nineteen and he was going to—”
Absinthe is fully wailing now, and my heart breaks for her.
My heart breaks for Lilian.
Hel might not have a strong formal judicial system, but we still keep track of what happens. Murders, legal or not, are documented. Sexual assault and battery are never legal. When cases go unsolved by trained investigators for too long, Luc has started passing them over to us.
Unfortunately, I think I know exactly which unsolved cases Absinthe is referring to, and the details are horrific.
Tears fill Gemma and Reina’s eyes, and I have to focus to not let the emotions overwhelm me.
He lives in our camp, works alongside us.
Not just near us, but near Una and Po, too.
I don’t like Baelor, but never once did I imagine that this was what he was capable of.
My brain starts to sift through experiences, re-categorizing them.
A look I brushed off suddenly has weight; a moment he stood too close to Reina changes in feeling.
I feel so stupid. I made so many excuses. I told myself that this was just who he is. Every time I saw him, my stomach clenched, but I chalked it up to him just being a shitty husband to my best friend. Never did I imagine there was a monster lurking among us.
A sudden, overwhelming sense of grief overcomes me. I mourn the old dynamic of the carnies, because I know it’ll never be the same. I can never unsee what’s been brought to the light.
Nausea hits me, but I push the sensation down.
“Do they have a soul bond?” Gemma asks.
I shake my head. “No, he didn’t want one. It’s always bothered Lilian.”
Gemma visibly sighs in relief. “Okay, so we kill him.”
Draven helps Absinthe over to the table, and Reina rubs a hand down her back.
“I need a day,” Draven says, and it’s only now that stress really shows on his features. This might just be his breaking point.
“What do you mean? Love, we just need to fucking execute him.” Gemma looks truly exasperated, but knowing Draven, he’s going to choose his next words wisely.
“Given everything we’ve just learned, I need a little bit of time.
We have to formally gather the evidence for me to get permission for an execution, just as we do with anyone else, but we also have to tread lightly.
Luc was just informed that he must get married, and this gives him the perfect opportunity to force Lilian’s hand, and I just won’t allow that.
We’re not going to kill her husband and force her to become Luc’s baby-making-machine in one fell swoop,” Draven says, his eyebrows pushed up high on his forehead.
“I want justice, but I also know we have to be careful.”
I actually agree with him. “We can place him on lockdown. Khalid can guard his door. He doesn’t go anywhere without an escort, to prevent him from hurting others.”
“Does he know you saw him?” Gemma asks.
Absinthe wipes away her tears. “He definitely knows.”