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The Devil's Consort

[MATURE CONTENT] They say the devil has no soul, that his heart had frozen over as soon as he was cast down from the heavens and tumbled straight into hell. They say a man like him could never love, that he is merely an empty shell devoid of romantics, driven only by the twisted nature of his games, the thrilling chill of lust, and of death. But I know differently. Some say he is beautiful- dancing through the night with a seductive sway of his body and a tender caress of his honeyed word that could make any mortal fall, others berate him as a monster. When I was younger, I never used to know what to believe. Never knew which legends told the truth, and which ones voiced a lie. Until one day, I tumbled straight into hell- straight into him. And that's when my whole world changed forever.

Wolfgirl1215 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
135 Chs

Auras and insults

I don't realise I have passed out until I awaken in Valerian's room lying sprawled on the couch and surrounded by a sea of concerned looking faces. Upon seeing my eyes open, a few of them breath a long sigh of relief. Others merely glare.

Perhaps my waking was not a welcome sight to everyone, then.

"Shit, El," says a familiar voice beside me, reaching over to squeeze my hand in his. Alastor's bright golden eyes spike through the haziness of my vision, his pupils narrowed with concern and a half hearted smile wires across his face.

For some reason, I can hear his heart pounding through his chest: a humming bird fluttering against a sheet of glass. Brittle. Perhaps I am still dreaming.

Giving my hand another squeeze as though to reassure himself I am alive, he says incredulously: