Their souls were fertile ground, already prepped by an eternity of infernal evolution, ready to be sown with the seeds of his will. Their rivalry, their desire to outdo each other in his service, was simply the natural flowering of that seeded devotion.
They weren't just complying; they were competing for a divine favor they felt unworthy of, but were desperate to earn.
Every touch from him wasn't just a pleasure; it was a blessing. Every glance was an appraisal they longed to have.
They were, in their deepest hearts, exactly where they were meant to be; where they sought to be.
A low, contented hum rang out as Adam indulged in the desperate, craving caresses of the two demonesses. He stretched out his hands, his grasp free and possessive, mapping the bodies of his rewards.
His fingers traced the elegant, sweeping line of Blair's spine, feeling the subtle tremble of powerful muscle beneath her skin. Her color that of dim flames, pale and smooth as polished jade.
His other hand slid over the curve of Agri's hip, his thumb brushing the intriguing contrast of her soft, blue-tinged skin and the hard, sleek edge of the natural bone armor that framed her waist.
Their bodies were a testament to hell's perverse creations; tenacious, strong, and utterly captivating in their exotic nature.
After three days of their potent regenerative energies, they were almost fully restored.
The deep gashes were now faint, silvery lines. Even the scythe demoness below the tower had regrown her arms to their full length; the new chitin-like carapace gleaming wetly in the infernal light.
Alongside their physical healing came a surge of pent up desires.
They were virgins no longer in innocence, but in experience, and they lusted to give that singular offering to their master. Their past couple days consisted of exploring each others bodies, only keeping themselves from crossing the last threshold.
Their bodies, now nearly whole, were finally ready to 'serve' him in the most intimate way they could conceive; in the way they yearned for.
Adam knew of their desires vividly.
It was in the frantic beat of their hearts under his palms, in the heat radiating from their skin, in the way their bodies arched and trembled under his touch, begging for more.
But his understanding went deeper than mere observation.
His newfound mastery over emotions and thoughts, honed within his new dungeon, combined with the intuitive link forged by his conscious branding, gave him a direct line of insight to their fervent minds. He could feel the primal need radiating from them; the devotion, lust, and a fierce, competitive hunger to be his first.
The negative, desire-lace emotions of competitiveness interweaved with his branding.
A wicked impulse sparked within him.
With a deliberate thought, he turned his head away from Blair, ignoring her expectation, and focused entirely on Agri.
His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking the fascinating serrated black mark there. Then he leaned in and captured her lips in a deep kiss. It was not a kiss of tenderness, but of ownership, a brand of his attention.
When he pulled back, Agri's feral yellow eyes were glazed, her lips parted, stunned.
"You have pleased me greatly, my little shadow," he murmured, his voice a low tone that promised dark pleasures, "Your rewards will be… thorough."
The reaction was instantaneous.
Agri's body perked up, a shudder of pure triumph coursing through her body.
She shot a look of venomous victory at Blair, her entire being screaming with smug satisfaction; she had her master's kiss and his 'promise'.
Words that sent quivers of anticipation in her body.
Blair's world shattered.
The heat of her body was cooled by the icy feeling of humiliation. The envy that coiled in her gut made her claw and dig into the stone beneath the hides.
She felt dismissed… overlooked.
The devil she had deemed worthy of her perfection, had bestowed his favor on the lesser, more crude demoness, whose accidental glance had caught a ploy before it could blossom into devastation.
Her thoughts were a silent, screaming whirlwind of rage and a desperate. Her desire to complain fighting with her inherent knowledge that she shouldn't challenge her lord's decisions.
Though, the look on Agri's face nearly made her want to forget about any and all consequences.
Yet!
Before the silent war between them could escalate further, just as Adam was enjoying the surging emotions, he stood up in one fluid, powerful motion.
The loss of his warmth was sudden to both of them.
A long cloak of thick, black demon hide was lifted from the ground and cloaked around his shoulders, covering his magnificent naked form, its donned presence a dismissal of their intimate moment.
His demeanor shifted, in the matter of moments, from indulgent master to cold, calculating warlord.
He walked to the edge of the platform, his gaze sweeping over his domain, before focusing on the far edge of the basin, where the land fell away into a steep, treacherous cliffside; a treacherous land route in or out of the basin.
His eyes narrowed, the demonic runes within flaring with a demonic life, tracing the treacherous route back to his barrier.
There, standing just on the other side of his shimmering barrier, their forms were clear even at this great distance. It was a group of three figures.
Except, they were not demons.
They were devils.
Their postures were relaxed, almost casual, but their auras radiated a palpable, threatening power that dwarfed that of any demon.
Adam's gaze locked with theirs across the vast distance. A silent, electric challenge crackled in the hellish air.
The game had just changed.
Adam descended the obelisk with a predator's grace, the long hide cloak flowing behind him like a shadow given form. The air around him crackled with a new, sharp tension.
He crossed the inner defenses and past demons who immediately froze and bowed their heads, their fear a palpable wave before him. He didn't stop until he stood just inside his shimmering black barrier, the translucent wall humming with power.
It was all that stood between him and the three strangers.
Up close, their nature was unmistakable. Their appearance was not of distinct royals, but instead of wild devils.
Survivors.
Their forms, while all humanoid, bore the marks of harsh living and constant strife.
One had skin like cracked, dry clay, with horns that twisted like gnarled tree roots.
Another was sleeker, her form almost serpentine, with eyes that burned like liquid copper and claws that seemed to drip a viscous, shadowy toxin.
The third was bulkier, his shoulders broad and hunched, with a jaw that looked like it could crush rock and a single, massive horn jutting from his forehead.
Their auras, while potent at the high-tier lesser devil realm, were raw and untamed, like unsheathed blades left out in a battlefield.
Warriors who never stopped fighting.
Like wild predators who only knew of the hunt.