The city lights flickered beneath the endless black sky, stretching out like a glittering sea. From the highest tower of his immaculate glass building, Sebastian Vaelrath's emerald-green eyes pierced into the city below, his cold gaze betraying no emotion. The moonlight brushed his pale skin, sharpening the angles of his handsome face. His black hair fell in waves over his forehead, styled in a way that covered the scar on his left eye—one that made him look dangerously handsome.
Flawless was not a word in a Demon King's world. Scars were left in honor of many worn battles.
He turned around and walked slowly, his confident strides echoing into the dark room behind him. The room was a cathedral of modern luxury—black marble floors, abstract paintings hanging on the walls, and shelves armed with weapons arranged by usefulness, half-hidden in the shadows. A small light illuminated the center of the room, casting a trembling man in its spotlight.
Three guards stood fully armed, their faces cloaked in darkness.
Sebastian sat on the throne-like chair, his form cloaked in shadows as he faced the audience in the room.
"Now speak," his cold voice echoed.
Zacheous didn't dare look up. His once composed and handsome features were now streaked with sweat and fear. The cold aura emanating from Sebastian was suffocating.
"M-My Lord… t-they had my family…" he stammered.
"And informing me of this was... what? A foolish act?" the Demon King asked, his voice soft but edged with menace.
"No, my Lord, no... it's not what it seemed—"
"Silence!" Sebastian's voice thundered through the room.
Tonight, betrayal had come too close. His own men had turned against him, selling him out to his enemies—costing lives.
Perhaps he had gone too soft. His enemies toyed with his men's loyalty by capturing their families. They thought he couldn't protect them.
But he was the Demon King. The last of the most powerful royal bloodlines.
His face hardened as he stood.
"Throw him in the dungeons," he said coldly, walking out of the room.
"M..my lord... forgive me..my family.. my children are young"
Zacheous's scream echoed in the darkness.
He should have thought about that before betraying him.He wasn't going to kill him—not yet. He would make him beg for death. How dare he betray a Demon King with a steel heart? His cries would bring satisfaction.
A lesson to any who dared dream of treason.
*********
Far beneath the immaculate glass tower, the dungeons reeked of damp stone, old blood, and forgotten screams. The walls pulsed with despair, like they remembered every soul that had ever begged for mercy.
Zacheous lay crumpled on the cold floor, chained like a dog. His breath came in ragged gasps, chest rising and falling in fear. But it wasn't the cold or the pain of betrayal that haunted him.
It was her
His wife's voice echoed in his mind.
"Do what you must, Zacheous. Just come back to us."
He had made a deal with the enemy to protect them. And now… he had become one.
Footsteps approached. He looked up, expecting a guard.
But instead, a woman stood before his cell—tall, wrapped in a hooded cloak, her presence unnaturally still.
"You failed," she whispered.
His heart seized.
"You said you'd protect them!" he shouted.
The woman tilted her head slightly. "I said you'd be spared if you delivered the Demon King's location. You delivered nothing but his rage."
And then, with a smirk that made his blood run cold, she vanished into smoke.
Meanwhile, back in the upper tower,Sebastian stood alone in his private chambers, a rare space of silence. He tapped his foot on the marble floor continuously, like a nervous fellow waiting his turn for an interview. He was waiting. His eyes glowed in the dark as he stared into emptyness, face emotionless. Soon, footsteps approached, making him stop his foot tapping.
"You're late, Virelith." Said calmly his voice stern and holds coldness
The woman stepped forward. Her black leather coat shimmered against the dark walls. She was his right hand. He had saved her life while he wiped out an entire city in ancient times. Her red eyes amused him so much he had took her as his own realizing she was also a demon, raised her as his own.
" An army has also been formed in the south a d I had to see for myself. Zacheous family has been retrieved, as you commanded, my lord..."
She seemed to swallow the rest in her throat. He turned around to look at her. His emerald green eyes shimmered in the darkness. His gaze alone was enough to force the words out of her mouth.
"Luca is alive," she said.
The atmosphere changed—a cold, suffocating aura.
Luca Blackvein was the illegitimate son of the Vaelrath family, a child of scandal, not of true blood like Sebastian. His mother had been a witch, and his father, a noble, the king of Demons, had sired him through an affair.
Only one of true blood could claim the Vaelrath throne, and Luca had accepted that fate, until he raised an army and challenged it. A brutal war followed, and Sebastian had cast him down into hell. But Luca's mother, enraged by her son's fate, cursed Sebastian before she died. A witch curse couldn't hold a Demon but he was born on a vulnerable day, a cursed moon. With that she cursed him.
Now, Luca was back.
Sebastian's eyes glowed, blazing with rage and hatred.
"Then we find her."
The pure-souled woman he was fated to, he needed her now.