Page 99 of Bound By Lust

Blood red the exact moment it hits oxygen. The bodice is sculpted and high-necked, but backless for my wings to freely move and my tail to not feel suffocated. It clings to my waist, cinched by an infernal corset sewn with thread that glimmers like gold. The skirt spills into a slit so high it’s practically illegal that Jessica isn’t here to see it…I just know she’d pull this bitch to the side and take my dick in that pretty mouth of hers…

I drool a bit at the thought and shake my head, but when I move, I notice the fabric shifts like liquid flame, which is cool as fuck. My hair is naturally long now, glossy, with thick waves down to my waist. I run a clawed hand through it and grin.

“Well,” I mutter, admiring my reflection in a broken shard. “Guess I won’t need to buy wigs anymore, which is perfect because Jessica is a hair puller anyway… ”

“Milord, must you make everything about that hu?—?”

I throw her a look that warns not to fuck with me, with ,my horns glowing full, and aching with the weight of stored miasma, ready to snap loose if I even think the wrong thought.

“My…my apologies Milord…” she mutters and I make my way out to my throne room where I see my brothers are all in ceremonial garments. All of them except Pierce are looking uncomfortable.

None of say anything to one another as we head to those damn creepy ass midnight horses and the damn weird ass things that drive them, who bow when we come near them. We get into our respective carriages, I see my father get in with Wilder and when look back to see my mother gets in with me. I groan as the midnight horses jump through, space landing us in the center were we appeared a week and a half ago.

I glance out the window, looking at nothing even though mother speaks and buzzes around excitedly talking about this and that while pointing to shit. I make a note to remind myself to never let her ride with me again. I snicker…I’ll suggest she ride with Saint next.

The thought alone of her talking Saint’s ear off about responsibility and all the shit he needs to do as a Demon Lord makes my fucking day. I shift in my seat, hoping she’ll take the hint and stop talking and see we are now in a place with white stone arches that hang overhead as pale as bone and polished to a cold, moonlit shine.

Its spirals curve like thorns toward the sky, and gold veins run through the marble walls like spiderwebs with strange runes that glow faintly beneath the surface, pulsing with restrained power.

The entrance is a wide archway, rimmed with jagged ivory and flanked by Seven ivory statues that tower over everything. It’s as if the midnight horse can sense my curiosity because the carriage slows and I see a group of beings cloaked in black veils, foreheads pressed to the ground, chanting in some weird language in prayer. I narrow my eyes intrigued and that triggers my mother to speak.

“It’s the Temple of the Seven, built by the Dark Elves centuries ago when your third incarnation was here…” she pauses then points. “Dark Elves live for centuries, so I have no doubt that some who built it are in that group. They are some of the most devout in the realm,” she smiles and I scoff.

“To us?”

“Of course, Milord, and to what you represent,” she corrects, voice precise. “Each Sin is a spiritual archetype to them. They don’t just worship, it’s ritualized devotion. They believe aligning with the energy of Sin leads to transcendence, power, and awakening.”

I glance again at the temple and I can easily point out my statue near the front gate. My face is carved in marble, smirking like IknowI own everything I want. One of the elves is praying beneath it, whispering my true name like it’s holy, and it makes my stomach twist.

“So… it’s a cult.”

My mother huffs, sitting back on her side.

“No. It’s faith, and that faith not only strengthens you and powers the statues, but also enriches the miasma.” I shake my head slowly, not getting what’s so great about us but whatever… I don’t need to hear anymore. I just fall quiet, eyes lingering on the curved spires rising above us, clean, sharp, pristine.

It’s beautiful.

And I still hate it.

After we pass the temples, the carriage speeds up and thankfully it takes little to no time to get to where we’re going.

We pull up to a massive coliseum that is cut into the side of a volcanic cliff, with stands stretching up into the clouds and pits so deep I can’t see the bottom. The crowd’s already buzzing when we arrive, cheering even louder when we get to the podium.

I slump in my throne, fingers tapping the armrest, wishing I’d never came. I was more content laying in my Jessica Nest. On the side of me Saint sleeps, Genesis is growling because he can’t check his stocks, Pierce is has his nose turned up in the air, Gannon is munching on a feast laid out for him, Echo looks annoyed that he’s not the center of attention, and Wilder… is growling at a video game.Typical…

When my mother stands, the crowd once goes quiet. Her voice echoes through the arena with no mic, only magic and her undeniable presence.

“Today, the Hunt begins anew, but this time will be different… because today, we are joined by the Seven!” She turns to hold her hand out to us and we ignore her. “Our Lords, they have returned to us, born again in flesh and reunited in the demon realm. Their presence alone blesses this tradition with greater meaning, greater glory. Let this be not just a contest of instinct and dominance, but a celebration of their awakening. May the worthy rise. May the weak fall. And may the blood spilled today honor the sins that shaped hell itself.”

She lowers her hand. The crowd erupts in thunderous howls and chants.

“KILL THOSE OMEGAS! KILL THOSE OMEGAS! KILL THOSE OMEGAS!”

I barely pay attention. This shit is weird and unsettling to even us. I think about leaving until I look and see one of the dragon orbs pan over to a group of people on stage and I freeze, and so do my brothers, all watching in horror.

The Omega’s they have been chanting to be killed… they’re not warriors, or beasts.

They’re fucking people… dozens of them. Girls, boys, men, women…young and old, scared and thin.

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