The Devil's obsession with the Heiress

[Warning: Slight mature content ahead]

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As Gavriel gazed into her eyes, he could see a plea so desperate it did something to him... making it impossible for him to say no to her right away.

"Trust me, Aliana, you don’t want that..." he whispered as he leaned closer, his breath turning ragged as it brushed against her lips.

Aliana shook her head in disagreement, her grip tightening on the fabric of his coat. But the moment she did, her world suddenly tilted. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she swayed, instinctively leaning into his chest, trying to regain the balance her body was rapidly losing.

Gavriel moved just in time, catching her by the back and waist to keep her steady.

"Aliana?" he called, his voice sharper now.

But all he received was a final, fragile whisper slipping past her lips. "Please... don’t leave... m...e."

And then she went completely limp against him.

For a brief moment, Gavriel stood frozen, her weight resting against him, her warmth seeping into him in a way that made his control falter.

Then footsteps echoed from a distance, growing louder with each passing second. At the same time, the hotel lights flickered before snapping back on, flooding the space with harsh, unforgiving brightness.

He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening as his gaze lingered on her pale, unconscious face, before finally moving to lift her into his arms.

Just then, Reve materialised right before him, only to be greeted by the most unbelievable sight before him in his long existence.

The Gavriel he knew never...under any circumstances stepped out of the dungeon on a full moon night, let alone held a woman in his arms so protectively without ripping her to pieces.

When Gavriel took a step forward, eyeing his loyal servant, Reve snapped out of his shock.

"Master," he asked, "let me take her back to her room."

Something dark flickered in Gavriel’s eyes at the suggestion, making Reve quickly back away in caution.

A silent alarm of danger blared in his mind, but before Gavriel could respond, one set of footsteps closed in on them, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight.

Gavriel’s stormy eyes met Cillian’s wide brown ones.

"What in the-"

Before Cillian could even begin to process, let alone question, the utterly baffling scene before him, Gavriel spoke in a calm tone. "Cillian, make sure no one comes looking for her."

And, as if that explained everything, he simply stepped towards his suite door that opened on its own. He walked in with Aliana in his arms, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions, and the door shut with a soft click.

Cillian remained exactly where he was, mouth slightly open, as though his thoughts had collectively decided to abandon him.

Slowly, he turned his head towards Reve, who stood there in silence, looking no less affected.

"...Care to explain this?" Cillian finally managed, his voice caught in utter disbelief, "or should I just start assuming this is normal now?"

Bewilderment lingered heavily between them, but Reve straightened nonetheless. Despite the fact that nothing about the situation made sense, he knew he would have to explain it... somehow.

​

....

​

In an abandoned, secluded castle far from the city of Karden, impatient footsteps tapped against the wooden floor of a vast, Gothic room. A man with shaggy dark brown hair and crimson eyes leaned against the window, swirling the wine in his glass as he gazed at the full moon.

He stood entirely unclothed, unbothered by the chill or his own nakedness.

Behind him, a voluptuous woman with long, flame-red hair rose from the dishevelled bed. She padded across the floor toward him, her movements catlike and silent, before snaking her arms around his tapered waist.

"Master Mord, why do you stand here alone? I was beginning to get a bit lonely," she purred against his ear.

Mord turned his head over his shoulder to look at her. "Layla, aren’t you becoming more impatient by the day? Would you like me to send you back to hell?"

The woman’s red eyes widened before she let out a light, nervous chuckle. "Of course not, Master Mord. You know why? Because I know I won’t find you over there," she said lasciviously, letting her hands slide lower to reach for him.

As soon as her fingers made contact with his member, Mord’s hand shot out. He caught her wrist in a bruising grip, forcing her to let go.

He clicked his tongue lightly, then moved with a sudden, blurring speed, slamming her body against the wall. A sharp hiss of pain escaped her as the impact jolted her spine.

Mord’s hand moved to her throat, his fingers locking in a tight, punishing grip. He leaned in close to whisper against her skin. "Don’t get ahead of yourself and grab things you are supposed to beg for. Have you forgotten your place?"

His grip tightened, cutting off her air, yet a frantic thrill flickered in her eyes, betraying her dark pleasure.

"Yes," a breathy moan left her lips, and the man’s grin turned wicked.

Letting go of her neck, Mord watched as the woman sank to her knees. She was now at eye level with his erection, which seemed to glare at her in the moonlight.

"Now, Layla, take it like you mean it," Mord ordered, his voice raspy and low. The woman smirked seductively, her eyes gleaming with an eager, twisted hunger to please her master.

Soon, the lewd sounds of their activities filled the air, accompanied by deep groans and moans that did not cease until the clock struck one.

While Layla eventually fell into an exhausted sleep on the dishevelled bed, Mord remained wide awake.

Irritation flared in his mind as something promised to him had not been delivered.

He had tried to summon the malevolent spirit tasked with bringing that special woman to him, but it had not answered his call, no matter how many times he reached out.

Unable to tolerate the silence any longer, he summoned a different entity.

A female spirit materialised before him, bowing low. "Master, you summoned me?"

"Yes, find out where Viktor disappeared to. He is not answering my calls. He was supposed to bring me my special meal. Find out... find out and report back to me!" Mord’s voice dropped into a dangerous snarl by the end.

"Yes, Master," the woman’s warped voice echoed before she vanished into nothingness.

Silence followed, before Mord’s lips slowly curled into something far from sane. Wild rage burned in his eyes, laced with a flicker of madness that only deepened as the seconds passed. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Being denied what he wanted was not something he tolerated well. Not at all.

But beneath that fury, something else stirred.....excitement. A dark, exhilarating thrill slithered through him at the thought of what was to come.

If his servant had failed him... then he would hunt for himself. And perhaps...that would be far more enjoyable.

A low, almost delighted breath escaped him as he tilted his head slightly, already imagining it. The fear, the struggle and the moment they realised they could not escape.

His smile widened at the thought, after all... he did so love the chase.