---
They say power changes a man. But I wasn't a man anymore, was I? Not really. Not after binding myself to the Demon Queen and her five chaos-born sisters. And especially not now—lounging in a throne that pulsed with the blood of a hundred rulers before me.
It was a throne carved from the ribcage of an ancient leviathan, warm beneath my hands like living flesh. And yet, somehow, the weirdest part wasn't the throne.
It was the six demonesses sprawled all over it—and me.
Lilith, the Demon Queen, perched on the armrest like it was hers. Her sharp eyes stared ahead at nothing, legs crossed, fingers drumming on my shoulder. Not quite possessive, but just enough to remind anyone watching that this kingdom—this throne—this body—was hers.
Vera was leaning against the other side of the throne, arms crossed over her toned chest, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. Syla, of course, had made herself very comfortable—in my lap—stretching with a sigh as if she were just waking up from a long nap.
Neve sat silently at my feet, her icy gaze scanning the room, a quiet guardian despite the chill she brought with her. Iria twirled one of my fingers with her own like a child playing with a doll's arm, eyes glowing faintly as if she was reading my bloodstream.
And Lysa… well, Lysa stood behind me, fingers gently brushing my temples as if she was calming a beast from within. Her voice barely a whisper in my mind: "Don't overthink it, King. Just rule."
A knock at the chamber doors echoed, followed by the thunderous voice of a guard demon.
"The War Council awaits, Your Majesty."
Lilith nodded, and the women slowly—reluctantly—peeled themselves off me. I stood, adjusting the black and crimson robe they insisted I wear. I hated how natural it all felt now. How normal.
But then again, I was the Demon King.
---
The War Council chamber was a vast obsidian dome, lined with crimson glyphs that pulsed faintly like beating hearts. At the circular table sat some of the most terrifying beings to ever walk the demon realms: generals with horns like spears, wings of shadow, and eyes that could see through lies.
And then there was me. A human. At least, mostly. They rose when I entered.
All of them.
No one spoke until I sat at the head of the table. Lilith stood at my side, her hand on my shoulder. Syla winked from behind her, blowing me a kiss. Vera and Neve flanked the table like twin swords.
"The mortal armies have crossed into the Scorched Reaches," growled General Korr. "They number in the tens of thousands."
"And they're blessed," said Neve coldly. "I feel their divine wards from here. Someone high among the angels is protecting them."
I leaned forward.
"How many paths into our territory?"
"Three," Vera answered. "Two wide enough for an army, one narrow mountain pass they'll likely ignore."
"That's where we hit them," I said without hesitation.
Silence.
Korr frowned. "You'd have us attack the narrow pass? Why?"
"Because they won't expect it," I said calmly. "We let them advance through the two main roads. Make it look easy. Drop resistance to lull them. Then we flank their supply lines through the mountain pass. Cut off the food. Burn the tents. Poison the wells."
Syla grinned. "Ooh… starving holy men. Delicious."
Lilith's smile was subtle but approving. "Continue."
I stood and walked over to the enchanted map in the center of the room. My hand hovered over a village marked in red. "We take this outpost first. It's close to their supply chain. Neve freezes the river that feeds their wells. Syla and Iria infiltrate their tents during the night—"
"Healing and seducing," Iria interrupted with a wild grin. "My specialties."
"Exactly," I said. "We cause confusion. Lower morale. By the time Vera leads the charge on the front line, they'll be too disorganized to fight properly."
Korr narrowed his eyes. "You think like a demon."
I didn't answer.
I didn't have to.
The plan was sound. Logical. And worst of all—effective.
The generals began nodding, one by one. Even the more stubborn ones.
Lilith leaned in, whispering just loud enough for me to hear, "I underestimated you, husband."
And somehow, I didn't feel flattered.
---
Hours later, I was back in the throne room. Alone, for once.
Or so I thought.
"You surprised them," said Lysa, emerging from the shadows like a dream.
I turned slowly. "Was that doubt I saw in your mind earlier?"
She tilted her head. "Not doubt. Curiosity."
Her steps were slow and hypnotic. She circled the throne, brushing fingers along its edge.
"You're changing, King," she whispered. "And not just because of the power you're absorbing."
I leaned back. "Should I be worried?"
"Worried? No," she said, stopping behind me again. "But aware? Absolutely."
Her fingers touched my temples once more. Images flooded my mind—brief flashes of the war to come, of Vera bloodied but laughing, of Syla sleeping on a pile of enemy armor, of Lilith watching me through a broken crown.
"What was that?" I gasped.
"A glimpse of what might be," Lysa whispered.
I turned and grabbed her wrist. "And what happens to you?"
She didn't answer.
Only smiled.
---
When the others returned, their eyes gleamed with something primal.
"You're not just a king now," Vera said as she dropped her war axe at my feet. "You're our king."
"And soon," Neve added with an icy smile, "you'll be more demon than any of us."
That night, I sat again on the throne. And they gathered again—closer than before.
This time, I didn't resist when Syla curled into my lap, or when Lilith leaned down to whisper strategies between kisses to my ear.
I was preparing for my first battle as the demon king .
And I was ready.
But I had no idea what I was truly becoming.
Yet somehow, I knew this:
If I ever lost control…
None of them would survive me.
---