Hell’s Consort

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Vampire King Apollyon

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Apollyon couldn't believe his eyes as they passed over the small river bridge on their way to the Lilac Manor's entrance.

He blinked and squinted at the vision from afar, clutching his chest like it was on fire.

Apollyon mused as he felt chills running down his spine,  'Was this a dream?' 

Earlier, he had strolled side-by-side with Prince Aspen in companionable silence as the midnight sky gradually shifted into hues of orange and yellow, bathing their exhausted forms in the sunrise.

As he glanced up into the heavens, he saw white bleeding heart doves flying.

Silver pixies, which appeared like nature spirits from the stream, hovered above their heads as if making sure that Prince Aspen and Apollyon would arrive at the Lilac Manor safe and sound.

They chattered in small, high-pitched voices in his ear in a language he didn't understand.

In a way, their presence had distracted him from his failure and disappointments.

He needed to set himself free from the prison of his own mind.

Apollyon had started to doubt his abilities to save his wife, but he decided to elevate—to choose to make this failure work for him and propel him higher.

He would never give up on his Empress.

They had spent the night into the Whispering Forest where the Spring Courts hide their high-valued captives without success.

The captive had no other confessions that were of great importance.

After brainstorming on their way back to Lilac Manor, Apollyon and Aspen had figured out that night was that the ring leader had summoned an Archdemon without the cult members knowing of who and where they got the Magic from. 

The members have been kept in the dark of who their ring leader was.

The killing of unicorns had been a test or some form of initiation for the new members.

Since they weren't aware of all the other members of this demonic faerie cult, they must have been recruited through a series of secret networks where they only interact with cult members they had known within that circle without any proof of the structure of this hierarchy. 

Apollyon had told Aspen of this earlier.

They had to capture every single one of them until only the ringleader was left, but that would be too difficult.

Aspen was right, though, when he said it would take forever.

If words come out that Apollyon and Prince Aspen were the ones hunting every single one of them, they also wouldn't be able to hide their identities for very long.

The hunter would become the hunted.

It would be a battle between the Spring Courts and their allies—hopefully, the entire Faerie Courts-- versus a new breed of demonic fairies who had access to Archdemon Magic.

What if they had recruited new members as a replacement for the captives that had been tortured?

Faeries were smart, mischievous and cunning.

Like all other creatures, most of them wouldn't shy from gaining more power to make them stronger.

It wouldn't matter who and where it came from, as long as they could inflict pain on those who had wronged them.

Faeries wouldn't be called faeries if they weren't petty and vengeful.

He had to think of another strategy on how to get hold of the cult leader as soon as possible without dealing with his/her lackeys.

Sometimes, he wondered if the cult leader was a female or a male because, as far as he knew, only Dark High Priestesses can conjure an Archdemon. 

Well, there was no need to trouble himself with the things he didn't know yet.

He would find out in the future if Apollyon had captured the cult leader.

Apollyon had walked over the golden walk bridge as he stared at the thin bamboos and mangroves sprouting at the riverbank.

One minute, he was lost in his own thoughts as Prince Aspen trailed behind him, and the next thing he knew, Apollyon had seen a woman with long silver hair standing at the entrance to the Lilac Manor with her back facing them.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

  She wore…she wore…that familiar blue gown…Apollyon had chosen for his wife yesterday morning at the Vampire Castle as he ordered his servants to dress her up.

Licking his dry lips, Apollyon closed his eyes and took a calming breath.

She had settled under the shade of a tree, busy observing the thick canopy of leaves above her. 

His lips parted as he tried to breathe from his nose, but he still found it hard to breathe.

Apollyon clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles had turned to white.

Apollyon's… vision of the lady had abruptly blurred as he tried to vanquish these damned tears that wouldn't stop leaking from the corner of his eyes.

He paused in his tracks as he bit his lip, waiting for the silver-haired lady to turn her head to look at him as he stood at the centre of the bridge, holding his breath in fear and anticipation. 

Why wouldn't she turn?

'Can't she feel his intense gaze on her through the blood bond?' He thought in desperation.

Apollyon's heartbeat was like a roaring thunder in his ears.

Why couldn't he feel her presence—her warmth—inside his heart now that she was here?

He stood there, frozen, rooted in his spot, staring at the woman without really seeing her.

What if it wasn't Luna, and he got his hopes up for nothing?

His disappointments had already piled up as high as the Ivory Tower for the recent years every time he woke up early in the morning to witness his wife still sleeping beside him.

Apollyon had no desire to add something to that.

He wasn't a masochist. 

"What's the matter, cousin?" Aspen had tried to catch up to him to see what was wrong, but Apollyon would never let the Faerie Prince see him cry like a sissy for such a simple sight of his wife up and about.

"Fuck this!" Apollyon muttered, changing his mind.

He should be happy now that his wife was back! 

He should be jumping for joy that he didn't have to torture more dark faeries!

  Apollyon must run towards his wife and quit acting like a coward.

"LLUUUUNNNNAAAAAA!" Waving his arms, Apollyon bellowed with a huge grin on his face.

He swore his voice had woken the entire Lilac Manor, including the village, but who cared?

He didn't wait for the silver-haired lady to turn her head, and neither did he wait for Aspen to see his pathetic face.

Focusing on Luna and the tree, Apollyon teleported in front of her in a split second.

He didn't even check because Apollyon knew in his heart that it was her all along.

Wrapping her into a tight embrace, Apollyon rested his chin on her shoulder and sniffed her neck and her hair.

The all too familiar scent of vanilla and a hint of lavender made him cry tears of joy.

"Apollyon!" Luna breathed as she rested her hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the emerald eyes which sparkled and gleamed in the sunlight.

Placing his hands on her small waist, Apollyon lifted her, and her skirts had floated in mid-air as he swung her around the garden.

He was finally home.