In the heart of the Demon Realm lay Hollow Eden, a vast and unforgiving citadel born from the bones of ancient battles and eternal night. Obsidian spires pierced the bruised crimson sky like claws reaching for a bleeding moon, while rivers of molten lava carved glowing paths through valleys of jagged black rock. The air itself was thick with power—thick with the acrid bite of sulfur, the iron tang of spilled blood, and the sweet rot of decaying souls bound to the land. Lucifer's fortress dominated it all: a colossal structure of twisting arches, thorned battlements, and walls that pulsed faintly with captured essences, whispering curses to those who dared listen too closely. Within its halls, night-blooming roses with razor-edged petals bloomed in shadowed gardens, their fragrance a seductive lure masking deadly poison. Beauty here was never without brutality, and mercy was a forgotten myth.
At the core of this dark paradise stood the Grand Throne Room, a cavernous chamber where the ceiling vanished into swirling shadows high above. Massive pillars, etched with writhing demonic runes that seemed to slither when unobserved, held up walls draped in heavy banners of burgundy and gold. The sigil of a crowned serpent devouring its own tail gleamed menacingly. Braziers of blue hellflame cast dancing light and long, menacing shadows across the polished obsidian floor, making every movement feel alive with threat.
Lucifer reclined upon his throne of blackened bone and gleaming gold, an imposing figure radiating raw authority. His skin glowed pale as moonlight on fresh snow, contrasted by hair black as the void that fell across his shoulders. He wore a doublet of the finest black velvet, slashed to reveal crimson silk beneath, the high collar embroidered with threads of enchanted gold that shimmered like trapped stars. A mantle of midnight fur, trimmed with iridescent demonic scales, draped his broad shoulders. His ruby eyes burned with restrained power as he surveyed the assembly.
Before him stood the Archfiends; ministers of the Dark council— three high demons who ruled the realm's iron hierarchies beneath their lord. Lord Varak, broad and battle-scarred, wore armor-like plates of forged obsidian layered over a tunic of deep blood-red leather, his heavy boots planted defiantly. Lady Seraphine moved with lethal grace in a gown of midnight silk that clung to every curve like liquid shadow, her silver hair pinned high with jeweled horns that caught the firelight. Lord Korath, gaunt and sharp-featured, was draped in flowing charcoal velvet robes heavy with glowing arcane sigils. At Lucifer's right hand stood Hal, his second-in-command: tall, powerfully built, clad in tailored black leather breeches and a dark gray surcoat bearing the royal crest. His black eyes were distant, his jaw tight.
"My lords and lady," Lucifer's voice rolled through the chamber like distant thunder, velvet-smooth yet edged with steel. "My lords and lady," Lucifer's voice rolled through the chamber like distant thunder, velvet-smooth yet edged with steel. "The time has come. I will officially marry Sheba, Enchantress Supreme of the witch race. She will be crowned Queen of the Demon Realm. Through this union, she will hold dominion over the realm—and over me."
A stunned silence fell, heavier than any before.
Lord Varak's face darkened. "My Lord… you cannot be serious. You would willingly place a witch above you? Above the entire realm?"
Lady Seraphine's eyes narrowed sharply. "This is not a mere marriage. You speak of handing her dominion over you. Over us all. You still carry residual power from the old wars. Giving her such authority risks everything we have built. We have upheld this throne for millennia. This is madness."
Lord Korath leaned forward, his voice a dry rasp. "We do not question your… affection for the Enchantress Supreme. But you are choosing her over the peace and stability of your own realm. The Spirit Kingdom watches. The human nation grows bolder. The Siren Shaol stir. If she holds dominion over you, what is to stop her from reshaping the Demon Realm to suit the witches?"
"This is absolutely no time to show weakness my lord. The Enchanntress Supreme's powers grow stronger by the day since her return. It is still a mystery how she was able to break the Siren Queen's song. It would be very unwise for our race to deliberately fall beneath her feet; it is no secret how hungrily she seeks control and dominion over all races."
Lucifer rose slowly from his throne, his presence expanding until it pressed against every soul in the room. His mantle shifted, scales glinting like knives. "You dare questions my will so openly?" His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "I am no fool. I know the risks. I know what I sacrifice. Yet I decide this."
Lord Varak's fists clenched at his sides. "If you push through with this, you risk a civil war within our realm, my lord. Many of the houses will not bow easily to a witch queen who holds dominion over their true ruler."
Lady Seraphine's lips curled in a cold smile that did not reach her eyes. "And if she decides the Demon Realm should bend the knee to the Witch Coven instead? What then? Will you command us to obey her?"
"You will bend or you will break," his crimson eyes flared.
The tension in the throne room thickened until the air felt ready to ignite as he returned back to his throne. His fingers tightened on the arms of his throne until the bone creaked. His claws extended briefly, scraping gold. He understood their points and knew they were very valid. He knew the risks of giving Sheba dominion over the realm but still chose to do so.
In the past, he had chosen the peace and stability of his realm over the love he had for her. He kept the enmity running deep, refusing to put his emotions above the well-being of his people. But this time, he would not do same. He chose Sheba now and would do everything it took to keep her. She wanted the Demon Realm and control over him too? Then she shall have it all. They were mates anyways and bound to spend an eternity together. It is only right that he builds trust between them. His life and his people were very important to him. If he claimed to love her without being able to trust her with them, then what kind of mates would they make?
He already gave her control. She was allowed to break him, love him or destroy him so whichever pleased her, he was willing to live through, even at the expense of his people.
"I have made my choice. I love her. I choose her—above peace, above stability, above tradition. My word is law. She will be my queen, your queen in every sense. The preparations fall to you, Hal. The twins are at your disposal as well. Very befitting they Very befitting they help with the preparations for their sister's wedding and coronation. Twelve moons from tonight, ensure the ceremony is worthy of her—grand feasts under the crimson moon, blood oaths, rituals of fire and shadow. Spare nothing. Dismissed."
The ministers bowed stiffly, their fine robes and armored finery whispering against the stone as they filed out. Hal lingered only long enough to receive a subtle nod from Lucifer before departing the throne room, his mind already far from Hollow Eden. He seemed to be the only one who resonated with Lucifer because he too had a mate, he would sacrifice everything for and meeting her now was all he could think of.