CHAPTER 90: LOWLY DEMONS

"Should I take care of the man? The witch seems to be enjoying his company, and it might interfere with our plans."

Azazel leaned back in his chair, legs casually thrown over the table. "No. The man is the least of my concerns. I won’t need to lift a finger, if the prince sees him as a threat, he’ll take care of him himself," he replied in a bored tone.

"Very well, Master Azazel. I shall keep watching them and report any suspicious activity immediately," the man in black clothing responded, his voice cold and emotionless.

"Yes, just do that. I have more important matters to deal with, like my fucking brother." Azazel’s expression darkened. "I need to get my powers back and return to Hell before he escapes his doom. Perhaps this might be the key to getting back on Lucifer’s good side. If I deliver my brother, assuming he does escape, Lucifer might forgive me and restore my powers."

"Do you think he can escape?" the man asked.

"I don’t know. My brother is highly powerful... and unpredictable," Azazel muttered. "That’s why I need to stay ahead of him. Any progress with Hades and the witch? Is he in love with her yet?" His sharp eyes shifted to the shadowed corner where the man stood.

"It’s only been a few weeks, Your Majesty. It will take longer for the prince to fall in love with her," the man replied.

"That’s not necessarily true," Azazel said, sitting up slightly. "Two nights is more than enough for him to fall, if the connection is strong."

"You forget something, Your Majesty. The witch is still using her magic on him—every single day—shoving the demon deep into its shell. That makes it difficult for the demon to take control of the prince."

A pause lingered.

"Quite true," Azazel said thoughtfully. "But Zal isn’t a demon you can suppress with spells alone. He feeds on positive energy—love, longing, desire. The deeper the prince’s feelings for her, the more Zal will absorb her magic. Eventually, it won’t be effective anymore."

"Understood, Your Majesty," the man said with a bow before turning and walking out of the room.

~~~

When Lilith opened her eyes, she rubbed them gently as a yawn escaped her lips. She tried to lift herself from the bed, but a sharp pounding in her head forced her to lie back down with a groan. Fingers suddenly pressed against her scalp, massaging her temples with comforting pressure.

After a few minutes of stillness, she managed to sit up slowly. The headache was still present but not as intense as before. One thing was certain—drinking was definitely not for her. She swore to herself that she would never touch alcohol again.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked around and realized she was still in the prince’s chamber, lying on his bed. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed the time, it was well past 9 a.m.

What am I doing in the prince’s room? she asked herself, her brows knitting together in confusion.

She winced, shutting her eyes tightly as fragments of last night returned to her in waves. Her heart sank. Her eyes flew open.

"I want to touch you badly..."

"...I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head."

Lilith froze, staring blankly at the ceiling as the prince’s voice echoed through her memory. Even now, the gravel in his tone sent shivers down her spine, making her thighs instinctively press together.

She had never heard him speak like that—so raw, so unrestrained. And though embarrassment burned through her at the memory, a part of her couldn’t deny the pleasure it brought. The way his control had slipped—it thrilled her. And she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she liked it.

A small smile curved her lips.

But then the doorknob turned, and the door creaked open.

Lilith quickly laid back down, shutting her eyes as she stilled her breath. Soft footsteps approached, the unmistakable sound of the prince.

She kept her breathing shallow as he neared the bed, then heard something being placed gently on the bedside drawer. Moments later, the footsteps retreated, the door opened, and then clicked shut.

Only when she was sure he was gone did Lilith finally release the breath she’d been holding. Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned to her side, curious to see what he had left for her.

A gasp escaped her lips, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest as her eyes landed on the prince, casually leaning against the bedpost, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You’re terrible at pretending to be asleep, darling."

Darling...

Her heart skipped a beat. She quickly looked away, shyly tucking her hair behind her ears and clearing her throat.

"I heard the door open. I thought you’d left. How are you still here?"

"You heard footsteps, yes, but they weren’t mine," Hades replied, gesturing to the drawer. "I brought you peppermint tea. Viktor says it works miracles for headaches."

"Thank you," Lilith murmured, reaching for the cup. She wrapped her fingers around the warm porcelain and brought it to her lips. Steam rose from the liquid, and though it stung slightly, it slid down her throat with surprising ease, calming her nerves.

"Do you like it?" Hades asked, still watching her closely.

"No," Lilith replied curtly, making the prince chuckle.

"Next time, try finding something else fun to do. Drinking will only make you sick—and I’ll make you drink that tea every time you come home intoxicated."

Home.

He hadn’t said the palace. He’d said home.

Well, it was his home.

"I’ll try to keep that in mind, Your Highness," Lilith said, taking another cautious sip of the tea. Her gaze wandered to the fireplace, where logs crackled and flames danced to keep the room warm.

"Why do you have a fireplace in your bedroom if the cold doesn’t affect you?" she asked.

"Just because the cold doesn’t bother me doesn’t mean I enjoy it all the time," Hades answered. "Sometimes I like the warmth—and you need it, too."

He stepped forward, now standing at the edge of the bed. "Would you like to go skating on the ice?"

Lilith’s eyes widened. "Skating on the ice?"

"Yes," he repeated with a faint smile. "Would you like to come skating with me?"

"I’ve never gone skating before," Lilith whispered. "I... I don’t know how."

"You don’t need to," Hades said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I can teach you—just like I did with horse riding."

"You’re a terrible teacher if you think that was teaching," Lilith retorted. "It felt more like you were plotting my death."

Hades chuckled, the smile on his face widening. "I promise not to plot your death this time. I’ll be very gentle with you."

Another heartbeat skipped.

"I’ll look forward to that, Your Highness," Lilith said softly, averting her gaze.

"Very well. I shall leave you to rest and return by noon," Hades said, turning to leave. Lilith watched his figure until it disappeared from view, and moments later, she heard the door click shut.

She returned to sipping her tea, her thoughts swirling around the prince, the echo of his voice still lingering in her ears.

Hades made his way to the study, where Viktor and Lucian were already waiting.

"Did you find out what happened with the crops in Walvin?" he asked as he strode toward the chair.

"According to what the farmer and the bailiff reported, whatever affected the crops wasn’t ordinary," Viktor replied.

Hades raised a brow. "Explain further."

"The air around the farm was tense and carried the stench of burning flesh," Lucian said. "There was black dust scattered along the border of the farmland, and no other footprints were found aside from the farmer’s."

Hades leaned back, eyes narrowing.

"So it’s likely the work of a demon. A low-level one."

"That was my suspicion as well," Lucian affirmed with a nod.

"That’s preposterous!" Viktor snapped, his brows furrowing deeply. "A demon can’t just cross over to this realm—especially not a lowly one!"

"You’re mistaken, Viktor," Hades said calmly, his voice slicing through the room. "Low-level demons can breach the veil, if they’re summoned by a higher entity. They don’t act on their own. Someone is commanding them, sending them here deliberately."

Viktor’s frown deepened, confusion and disbelief battling across his face.

"But how? Why would Lucifer send his slaves to wreak havoc when he swore before the gods never to meddle with our world again?"

"Lucifer didn’t break that oath," Hades replied, "He wouldn’t. That vow is sealed with divine blood, breaking it would deem the devil as an enemy. No, this isn’t Lucifer’s doing."

"Then who?" Lucian muttered, tension creeping into his voice.

"It has to be someone else—a high demon. Someone with enough power and enough hatred to bypass the rules of the underworld." Hades stood, his jaw tightening.

"Could it be the king?" Viktor asked, almost whispering. "He is a high demon..."