Chapter 31
Alora
Aprocession of horned nightmares and regal rot strode into the hall.
Each one more terrible than the last.
First came a female demon with vivid red tresses hissing with living snakes, heralded by sweet incense and laughter.
Ribbons of transparent black silk clung to her pale body like sin.
Dainty horns crowned her head. Small wings fanned at her back, a slender tail tracing her seductive steps.
Behind her came her court of succubi and incubi.
Demons who used beauty like a weapon, eyes bright with lust and seduction.
Rune whispered her name into Alora’s mind, Lady Morvenna of Lust.
Another female glided in next, a creature both divine and dreadful.
Her slick gray skin shimmered like wet pearl as she swam through the air as though on invisible tides, sirens tail catching the light like wet gemstones.
Her hair streamed behind her in long, liquid strands, a cascade of sea-silk blues and silvers, threaded with faint glimmers like light refracting through deep water.
Strips of translucent cloth and scales formed her attire clinging to her breasts and hips.
Pearls and gold chains dripped from her arms and neck, pairing with the gold trident held elegantly in her webbed hand.
And when she smiled, too many sharp teeth gleamed like shards of opals from her black lips.
Lady Nexia of Greed, Rune introduced, nodding in greeting.
Then came a towering male demon. He stood like a living embodiment of war given form, his presence bending the air around him.
Antler horns arced from his skull, wreathed in fire that burned without smoke, casting harsh light over leathery wings at his back.
His skin tinted a faint red bore the scars of countless battles, muscled abdomen marked and hardened, as though violence itself had shaped him.
Plates of sharp armor clung to his broad shoulders and arms, forged with bone and iron.
A tattered battle skirt of charred leather and darkened hide hung from his hips, weighted with chains and fragments of bone, every tear and scorch mark stained with blood.
He radiated the terrible calm of something that knew it would win, whether by strength, endurance, or sheer inevitability.
The demons of his court pounded their chests in greeting, a sound like rolling thunder.
Alora swallowed.
Rune’s mouth hitched at one end. Lord Ira of Wrath. Warlord and first commander of my legions.
Then came the next Dominium, and Alora knew his name.
Rune’s claws flexed on her hip, gaze cold. Lord Sal’vathar of Envy.
His armor gleamed like a beetle’s shell, six spider limbs unfolding behind him. His face was ashen, lips thin, eyes glowing sickly green. Around him scuttled his faction, arachnid demons with too many eyes and limbs, their movements like a chorus of skitters that set her teeth on edge.
Then followed a demon that made her stomach turn.
He was a grotesque mass of hunger given flesh, towering and misshapen, body swollen with layered muscle.
Jagged spines and hooked protrusions erupted from its shoulders and back, while thick, sinewy tentacles coiled and uncoiled behind it like restless fingers searching for a meal.
A wide, brutal mouth split his face, lined with tusks and vicious teeth made for rending rather than speech.
Pockets of more fanged mouths lined. Him from shoulder to shoulder, the stench of decay rolled off him in waves.
She blinked at Rune. Gluttony?
He nodded. Lord Balgor.
The last of the Dominions drifted at the end of the procession and the room fell quiet as all eyes fell on her.
Though much smaller than the others, she carried a presence that demanded quiet, as if the air itself held its breath.
A headdress of blackened bone and antler horns framed her face, a skull worked into its center like a mark of death worn openly.
Her hair fell in a silver cascade beneath a black hood, skin ashen and streaked with dark glyphs that crawled like veins of shadow.
She moved leisurely, the air shimmering with motes of sand and falling embers around her bare feet, burning and vanishing before they touched the floor.
And a tattered sash covered the top of her face.
Lady Segrith of Sloth, Rune murmured, his tone wary. Our Seer.
Segrith opened her palms as she got closer, revealing eyes that glowed like vivid white. When they looked at Alora, it felt like being observed by something ancient and endless.
Her heart pounded wildly, her breath quickening as the Dominions approached, their glowing eyes intently studying the white tendrils beneath her skin.
Relax… Rune murmured in her mind as his fingers circled her racing pulse fluttering in her neck in reassuring strokes. He glanced at her dragon bracelet. Your scent is more potent when you’re afraid. The last thing my queen should ever show them is fear.
Exhaling a low breath, Alora forced her heartbeat to calm down and schooled her expression. His gaze stayed on their guests, but his mouth quirked in subtle smile.
Good girl.
Her cheeks warmed at the praise. They are…
The Fallen Dominions who rule the seven factions of demons within my court, and each represents one of the seven deadly sins. Pride. Greed. Lust. Envy. Gluttony. Wrath. And Sloth.
But Alora only counted six Dominions.
Who is the seventh?
Rune’s red eyes gleamed like coals of fire as he took a drink of wine. You’re married to him, love.
She stared at him, wondering which sin he represented. He looked nothing like the procession of grotesque creatures. Then Alora smirked when she realized it.
Rune’s flair of elegance-laced brutality could only be Pride.
His faction had already been waiting in the hall when they arrived, and they stood near him now, gleaming and beautiful, and terrible, their smiles edged in vanity as they silently judged other factions.
Together, all seven were the embodiment of sin.
Seven crowns of the damned, gathered beneath one god.
The Dominions bowed, then every faction behind them kneeled. Rune tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement and they stood.
Morvenna came forward first, her smile languid and sharp.
“For the Shadow Queen,” she purred, offering a diamond vial shaped like a teardrop, its contents swirling with molten gold.
“A draught brewed from the essence of desire itself. A single drop grants the drinker the vigor to enjoy a long night of pleasure.” She smiled at her knowingly.
“And to aid the body to withstand it, where necessary.”
Alora’s cheeks burned and she squirmed, aware again of her position on Rune’s warm lap.
The corners of Rune’s mouth curved in amusement. “How generous,” he murmured, playing with a lock of her hair. The faint tickling of her scalp sent a current down her neck. “Though I suspect your intentions are less holy than your tone.”
Morvenna smiled wider, the snake wrapped her throat flicking its tongue. “Temptation is holy, my king. At least in my court.”
Rune smirked. “Then may you have it in abundance.”
The demoness squealed happily at her blessing and scampered to Ira’s side.
I think we’ll enjoy that one, Rune purred in her mind.
Alora tried to ignore him but stifled a gasp when his shadows glided around her ankles, sliding up her thighs like invisible hands. A blush heated her face. They moved torturously slow, each inch making her heartrate climb.
What are you doing? The others will notice.
His nose grazed her ear, words like dark silk. Only if you give yourself away.
Alora tried to stay very still as the Lady of Greed approached next.
Nexia presented them with a chest overflowing with coins and jewels that gleamed with unnatural light. “A token of devotion for the Queen of Shadows. Let her reign glitter brighter than my own.”
Rune tilted his head, red eyes gleaming. “I trust this treasure will not turn to foam by morning. Your vaults will be blessed to never run dry, so long as you give with generosity.”
A ripple of nervous laughter trembled through the court. Nexia’s smile faltered, and with a hiss of magic, she snapped her fingers. Servants hurried forward with a different chest. This one, smaller but a pile of jewels glittered inside without enchantment.
Alora trembled when Rune’s shadows continued up her thigh. Her core throbbed in anticipation as they grew closer, but they then slid up her stomach. She exhaled sharply and Rune hid a smile as Ira came forward next.
The great war demon presented them with a chest of armor, a beautiful black chest plate veined in crimson, much like her bodice. Though this one was sharp like a tangle of thorns and adorned with tiny red flowers. Included were matching gauntlets and greaves.
“For your Queen,” Ira said, his voice low and booming. “It will turn away any blade, damned or divine.”
Rune inclined his head. “A gift of purpose.” His gaze stayed on the Lord of Wrath as his shadows secretly continued beneath her dress, curling through the valley of her breasts like smoke. “May your hammer never falter against any unworthy opponent.”
Ira grinned and stepped back.
The Wrath faction roared, beating their chests. She was grateful it masked how rapidly she was breathing. Alora clenched her fists when her undergarments grew wet. She ignored it, telling herself it was because he was touching where no one had before.
Rune’s smirk grew. Oh?
Alora scowled at him. Stop it.
His fingers curled around her neck lightly, so light it made her shiver. Why? I am enjoying watching you try so hard not to squirm. Has no one ever truly touched you before?
It wasn’t as if there had been much opportunity for lovers when she had been confined to a cottage in the woods for most of her life.
Does that please you?
Rune gave her a wicked smile, flashing the edge of his fangs. What pleases me, Alora, is that I will be the first one to fill every inch of you. Once I do, you will desire no other cock but mine.