The image of the silver-haired devil still left a bitter taste in Agri's mouth.
She had fought for her place, endured punishment and humiliation, yet this new queen had been captured, then given more care than she had ever received after a mere 'skirmish'.
All within a day too!
Jealousy twisted in Agri's gut, as her thoughts spiraled deeper into darkness. It was a physical pain, a need; a gnawing emptiness that eclipsed her envy.
'Why her? What did this elf-deviless have that she didn't?'
'…'
Power, beauty, elegance, and her devil bloodline.
The difference in their status, potential, and strength were as different as a kitten from a tiger.
Agri knew the answer, but wouldn't admit it…
Still, Agri had been there from the beginning!
She had fought for him, bled for him, endured his punishments and reveled in his sparse, albeit harsh, praises.
She had crawled through her own blood, beaten and on the verge of death to beg for his favor!
And yet!
This newcomer, this 'prize', was elevated to a position of honor without having suffered a fraction of what Agri had.
'…'
The statement wasn't entirely right either.
In her jealous fury, Agri's demonic mind had subconsciously warped the events that had taken place. She completely overlooked the horrific violence of Lyra's introduction into Adam's harem from her perspective!
She overlooked the fact that Adam had psychologically attacked Lyra, taunting her deepest trauma until she charged in a blind rage.
She dismissed the brutal, one-sided fight where Lyra was beaten into the dust, her body battered, while her spirit was shattered, and her pride wounded as she was held hostage in a public display.
She erased the hours that followed in that secluded room; the sounds that were not of pleasure, but of struggle and degrading violation.
The humiliation, the pain, the soul-deep rage Lyra must have felt... these were not cruelty in Agri's eyes.
It just the natural order of things.
Because, in the end, she saw the result: Lyra, standing beside their master, being treated better than anyone else.
To a demon like Agri, whose entire existence was one of hierarchy, power, and submission, the process was irrelevant.
The violence wasn't an atrocity; it was a twisted courtship ritual within hell's culture.
It wasn't a violation; it was a forceful, undeniable claiming.
In the brutal inner workings of hell, to be desired so fiercely by a superior being that he would go through such lengths to possess you, it was not a fate to be pitied: it was the highest form of flattery.
It was a testament to Lyra's value. One that even Lyra, in her subconscious mind, agreed with.
'She should be grateful,' Agri thought, her claws digging into her own palms.
'He found her worthy of such effort. Worthy of receiving his favor!' The thought made her jealously act up.
She would have endured it all a thousand times over, would have welcomed the humiliation and the pain, if it meant she could stand where Lyra stood now.
Blair's mind, on the other hand, was colder; of calculation and suppressing doubt.
'He dismissed us for negotiations.' She instantly concluded, unlike her scatter-brained comrade.
Obviously, Adam saw something in the shadowy figure they didn't; maybe even a devil?
It was just that she would have never expected the devil to be Kaelgor himself.
'But to send us to... her. This is a test. A hidden power play. He is placing her above us to gauge our loyalty, to see how we react and interact with this new 'queen'!'
Adam could have told them to leave him alone, to go do as they see fit, wait at the side… but he told them to wait with Lyra.
The test, the teasing, and humiliation rituals seemed endless…
Blair's pride, still wounded from being saved by Agri, now faced a fresh insult.
Her standing among the three of them seemed to be the lowest at the moment. She had painfully noticed that she had been receiving the most humiliating of task, of constant degradation.
It was because of her pride, of her initial arrogance that she had shown Adam.
They say that first impressions have lasting consequences…
Therefore, she would not fail this test!
She would be perfect, obedient, even if it made her writhe in discomfort.
They reached the peak, the wind whipping around the hollowed-out room. The air still carried the faint, metallic scent of blood and the musky aftermath of sex.
A figure layered in shadows languidly lounged on the stone bed layered with thick furs: Lyra.
She was a picture of conquered into indulgence.
Naked, save for a single demonic fur hide draped over her hips, her silver hair lingered like lazy snakes out around her. One hand rested on her waist and stomach, the other behind her head, her mercury eyes half-lidded as she gazed out at the darkening basin below.
She looked utterly at home, a queen surveying her new domain from the highest point. The subtle shadows beneath her skin seemed to pulse with a contented rhythm.
She had taken her new forced-upon position as naturally as breathing.
Agri and Blair stopped at the entrance, their presence an intrusion on her silent pondering.
Lyra's head turned slowly.
Her eyes, those pools of liquid silver, swept over them with a lazy, dismissive curiosity. There was no fear, no hostility. Just a mild, condescending scrutiny.
She recognized them as the two who had been clinging to Adam when she was thrown into the room.
His 'pets', if she recalled correctly.
A long, awkward silence stretched. The only sound was the wind whistling through the chamber.
Agri couldn't contain herself, "Master sent us," she blurted out, her voice unsteady, "To... prepare." The words were humiliating, yet suggestively taunting.
Lyra's lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk.
It was a look that said she knew exactly what "prepare" meant, and she found their role amusing.
"Did he?" She purred, her voice a soft, melodic contrast to the hellish surroundings, "How very... intriguing of you both."
Blair, forcing her posture into one of a subservient maid, stepped forward slightly with a small bow, "We are here to serve, Mistress," she said, the title feeling like a shard of glass in her throat, "Whatever you require."
Lyra's smirk widened.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, the fur slipping to reveal more of her beautiful, smooth skin.
"Require? From you, hmmm?" She let out a soft, breathy laugh, "I require my rest. The brute was... rough." She emphasized the word, a blatant reminder of the intimacy they had been excluded from.
"You may wait over there." She gestured vaguely towards a darker corner of the room with a flick of her wrist, the motion dripping with casual dominance, "Try not to make a sound."
Agri's hands clenched into fists, her claws digging into her palms.
Blair's jaw tightened, but she gave a stiff nod and moved to the indicated spot, pulling a seething, stunned Agri with her.
Her pride, once her defining trait, now felt like a fragile shell around her; her desperate need of her lord's favor chipping away at her being, or redefining it.
The duo moved in silence.
They sat in the shadows, watching the new queen who had so easily claimed the throne they had been fighting over for days.
The room was filled with a poisonous silence, thick with unspoken rivalry, bitter envy, and the dawning realization that in their master's eyes, they had already been demoted.
They were no longer potential concubines; they were maidservants to a queen.