The battlefield was chaos. His warriors fought fiercely, steel clashing against claw and fang, the air thick with the scent of blood and burning flesh. Azrael's magic crackled around him like a storm barely contained, the ground trembling beneath his feet.
Celeste stirred again, her fingers twitching in the folds of his cloak. He needed to end this quickly.
Azrael moved like a shadow, cutting through the enemy lines with ruthless efficiency. His claws elongated, slicing through flesh as the enemies fell before him, one after another. They had dared to ambush him. To threaten what was his.
Another beast lunged for the carriage. Azrael's growl was low and lethal. He vanished in a blur of speed, appearing behind the attacker before it could take another step. A single strike, and its body crumbled to ash.
"Fall back!" One of the shadowy figures called, realizing they were losing ground. "The master will not be pleased!"
Azrael's eyes narrowed. The mere mention of this 'master' sent a slow-burning rage through his veins. Whoever was behind this would regret interfering with him.
With a final wave of his power, the remaining creatures fled into the darkness, their twisted howls fading into the night. The battlefield was left in eerie silence, broken only by the ragged breaths of his warriors.
Azrael exhaled sharply, his crimson gaze returning to Celeste. Her face was still hidden against his chest, her breathing soft and even. She had slept through it all.
He gently adjusted his grip on her, cradling her as he turned back to the carriage. He could feel the eyes of his men on him, but none dared to speak. They knew better than to question his protectiveness over his bride.
Without a word, he stepped back inside, pulling Celeste close once more. He would let her rest for now. But soon, she would have to wake, and when she did, she would be one step closer to the world she knew nothing about.
The rest of the journey passed in silence, save for the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels against the rough terrain. Celeste remained in Azrael's arms, undisturbed by the outside world, her body still curled against him as though seeking warmth and protection. He had spent the last hours simply watching her, memorizing the way her delicate features softened in sleep, how her breath came in steady, peaceful rhythms. A part of him relished this rare moment of quiet, knowing all too well that it would not last.
As dawn crept across the sky, casting pale light over the vast landscape, the towering silhouette of Azrael's kingdom came into view. Black spires pierced the heavens, their twisted forms casting long shadows over the land. The castle stood as a foreboding presence, its dark stone walls encased in an ever-present mist, flickering with the faint glow of enchantments woven into its foundation.
The carriage slowed as they neared the massive gates. Guards in dark armor, their faces obscured by ominous helms, straightened at their King's arrival. With a single flick of Azrael's fingers, the gates groaned open, revealing the vast courtyard beyond. The horses trotted forward before coming to a halt at the grand entrance.
Azrael shifted, adjusting Celeste in his arms before stepping out of the carriage. The moment his boots touched the ground, an eerie silence settled over the courtyard. Every guard, every servant in sight bowed their heads in deep reverence, their gazes carefully averted. None dared to look upon their King unless granted permission.
Celeste stirred in his arms, her body shifting slightly. A soft murmur escaped her lips, barely audible. Azrael glanced down, his gaze softening just a fraction as she slowly woke. Her lashes fluttered, and then, cautiously, her eyes blinked open.
Her body tensed the moment she realized where she was.
The grand halls of the Demon King's palace loomed before her, unfamiliar and imposing. Everything about it was different—the air, the aura of power that clung to the very walls. Even without knowing the truth, she could feel it. The overwhelming presence of something otherworldly.
Her grip instinctively tightened against his coat as she tilted her head up to look at him. "W-where are we?" Her voice was a whisper, laced with lingering drowsiness and fear.
Azrael met her gaze, his green eyes calm, controlled. "Home."
Celeste swallowed, glancing around warily. The way everyone kept their heads bowed, the way shadows seemed to shift unnaturally along the walls—it all made her feel small, fragile.
Azrael took a step forward, carrying her effortlessly past the grand doors that led inside. The moment they crossed the threshold, a wave of warmth enveloped them, though the palace itself remained dimly lit, its corridors illuminated by glowing blue flames that lined the walls.
"I can walk…" Celeste whispered hesitantly, her voice barely above a breath.
Azrael paused, his grip around her firm but not forceful. He studied her expression—her unease, the slight tremble in her fingers. She was afraid, but she was trying.
He set her down gently. The moment her feet touched the polished floor, she wobbled slightly but remained standing. Her gaze flickered to him, uncertain yet determined.
"Good," he murmured, watching her closely. "Then walk beside me."
She hesitated before nodding, though her steps were timid as they began their descent into the unknown depths of his domain.
And though she did not know it yet, this palace would become her new world.Celeste felt a shiver run down her spine as the castle gates groaned open. Azrael's firm grip on her wrist didn't loosen, his towering presence shielding her from the curious and hungry gazes of the creatures lurking in the shadows. The air was thick with whispers, murmurs of a queen unfit for their dark realm.
As they crossed the threshold, the grand hall came into view—vast, adorned with ominous chandeliers dripping with dark crystals, and walls lined with ancient tapestries depicting battles of blood and fire. The scent of burning incense mixed with something more metallic filled the air, making Celeste's stomach twist.
Azrael didn't pause. He led her through the hall, past the watching court members, until they reached a spiraling staircase that wound upward like the spine of a great beast. Celeste hesitated at the first step, her fingers trembling in his grasp.
"I—" Her voice wavered, but before she could protest, he turned to her, his crimson eyes glowing under the dim torchlight.
"You will not cower," he said, his voice low, commanding. "You are my queen, Celeste. And in this kingdom, only the strong survive."
She swallowed hard, nodding despite the fear clenching her heart. She had no choice. She had to be strong. For herself. For whatever fate had in store for her in this dark, treacherous kingdom.
With a deep breath, she followed Azrael up the stairs, unaware of the dangers waiting in the shadows above.