LIAM
I knelt inside the confession booth, hands clasped together in a mock prayer, my eyes squeezed shut as if that alone could erase the humiliation of this moment.
Dignity?
Long gone.
Here I was — Liam, second prince of Hell, heir to the Forgotten Wasteland — kneeling inside a human cathedral like some sinner begging for forgiveness.
All for one person.
One person who probably didn't give a damn about me.
The cold wooden floor bit into my knees as the quiet of the cathedral pressed down on me. The air smelled faintly of incense and old wood, and the silence inside the confessional booth was almost suffocating.
From the moment I stepped into this place, I felt it — the suffocating purity of holy ground. It prickled against my demonic senses like invisible needles.
Demons and churches didn't exactly mix.
Yet here I was.
"Well… this is pathetic," I muttered under my breath.
I took a deep breath before speaking.
"Um…"
God, where do I even start?
How did I — a demon prince — end up kneeling in a cathedral confession booth?
Honestly?
I had no idea.
But I suppose if I'm going to humiliate myself like this, I might as well tell the whole story.
So let's start from the beginning.
*. *. *.
1st January, Wednesday, 2025
The VIP lounge of my nightclub pulsed with music.
Bass vibrated through the walls, neon lights flickered across the crowded dance floor below, and the entire building smelled faintly of expensive liquor and bad decisions.
Exactly how I liked it.
I lounged comfortably on a leather sofa, a glass of tequila swirling lazily in my hand as I watched the party unfold beneath the balcony railing.
People danced.
People drank.
People made mistakes.
And tonight, I was celebrating mine.
Escaping my own coronation had to be the best decision I'd made all year.
Granted, the year had only just started, but still.
I lifted the glass to my lips and took a slow sip, letting the burn of the alcohol settle warmly in my chest.
"Now this," I sighed contentedly, "is the life."
My mind drifted back to the moment everything had started.
The throne room of Hell had been packed.
Demons from every territory had gathered for the ceremony. Nobles, generals, diplomats — all dressed in elaborate formal attire while servants circulated with trays of infernal delicacies.
Everyone waited eagerly for the main event.
My coronation.
I knelt before the Chancellor, head bowed as tradition demanded while he raised the ceremonial crown.
Just a few more seconds and I'd officially become ruler of the Forgotten Wasteland.
The crown descended slowly toward my head.
Then I stood up.
The crown stopped mid-air as I caught it and spun it casually around my finger.
Gasps echoed across the throne hall.
Murmurs spread instantly.
"Apologies, Father," I said lazily, examining the crown as if it were nothing more than a cheap accessory. "But this bird's gotta fly."
My red eyes lifted toward the throne.
The Demon Emperor sat there in silence, his massive presence filling the chamber.
Beside him stood my older brother, Axel, the rightful crown prince, arms crossed and already rubbing his temples like he had predicted this disaster.
"Being tied down just isn't my style," I added with a grin.
Right on cue, the royal guards surrounded me.
Spears raised.
Magic ready.
They knew me too well.
But if they thought they could stop me, they clearly hadn't been paying attention.
The first guard lunged.
I stepped aside effortlessly.
Another swung a blade.
I ducked, spinning smoothly out of reach.
Their attacks came faster, but I danced through them like smoke — graceful, effortless, untouchable.
"Alright," I said cheerfully, twirling the crown once more. "Time for the grand finale."
I dropped the crown.
The moment it touched the marble floor, the curse embedded within it activated.
A freezing pulse burst outward.
Every guard around me instantly turned to ice.
The throne hall fell silent.
Frozen statues stood where soldiers once had been.
I casually picked up the crown again and placed it on top of one unfortunate guard's frozen head.
"Perfect."
More soldiers rushed in, surrounding the chamber, but none dared approach.
I turned toward the throne one last time.
"It was nice knowing you, Father."
I gave a playful salute.
"But this raven's gotta fly."
Dark smoke swirled around my body.
And then I vanished.
Back in the present, I leaned against the balcony railing of my club, staring down at the lively crowd.
No father breathing down my neck.
No Axel lecturing me about responsibility.
And absolutely no throne waiting for me.
Freedom.
Beautiful, glorious freedom.
"You look pleased with yourself."
I turned slightly to see Nathan leaning against the railing beside me.
The red-haired incubus had been my friend — and occasional business partner — for years.
"What gave it away?" I asked dryly.
Nathan followed my gaze toward the bar area below.
"Well," he said slowly, "that might explain it."
My eyes shifted.
And then I saw him.
A blond man sitting alone at the bar.
His golden hair caught the shifting club lights, and a pair of glasses rested neatly on the bridge of his nose.
He looked… different from everyone else in the room.
Calm.
Composed.
Almost out of place in a place like this.
"Who's that?" I asked.
Nathan smirked.
"Looks like someone beat you to him."
Sure enough, another man was already chatting him up.
Nathan chuckled.
"Tough luck, L."
I scoffed.
"Competition?"
I downed the rest of my tequila and set the glass aside.
"Please."
With that, I headed for the stairs.
"I'll show you what real competition looks like."
Nathan watched from the balcony with growing interest.
"Oh this should be good," he muttered.
The blond man was already looking a little flushed from the alcohol when I approached.
The stranger who had been talking to him leaned closer.
"So… would you like to take this somewhere else?" the man asked suggestively.
"Sorry I'm late, babe."
Both men turned.
I slipped smoothly between them, draping an arm casually over the blond man's shoulder.
"Traffic was brutal tonight."
I glanced down at him.
"And I can see you've already had quite a few drinks."
The blond blinked in confusion behind his glasses.
Up close, his features were even sharper.
Blond hair.
Amber eyes.
Something about him felt strangely familiar.
Have I seen him before?
I shook the thought away.
Focus, Liam.
There's a conquest to win.
Turning toward the other man, I smiled politely.
"Thanks for taking care of my boyfriend," I said smoothly. "But I'll take it from here."
The stranger hesitated before leaving.
Once he was gone, I slid onto the bar stool beside the blond.
"A martini," I told the bartender.
Then the blond finally spoke.
"I think you've mistaken me for someone else."
I leaned closer, amused.
"After that many drinks?" I teased. "You're telling me you don't recognize your own boyfriend?"
His brows furrowed.
"I'm serious."
I chuckled.
"Fine then," I said playfully. "Let's pretend we're strangers."
The bartender slid my drink across the counter.
I raised the glass slightly.
"Nice to meet you."
The blond hesitated.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
And just like that…
The night spiraled out of control.
One drink became two.
Two became several.
The music grew louder.
Our conversation became easier.
Flirting turned into lingering glances and careless touches.
By the time we stumbled out of the club together, the world had blurred into neon lights and reckless laughter.
What happened after that…
Well.
Let's just say the night ended far differently than it began.
2nd January, Thursday
"So you're telling me he just left?"
Nathan was barely holding back laughter.
We were sitting in my office the next morning.
Or afternoon.
Honestly, I had no idea what time it was.
"The mighty demon prince," Nathan continued dramatically, "abandoned in the morning by a human."
He wiped fake tears from his eyes.
"Meanwhile an incubus like myself has never experienced such disrespect."
"Shut. It."
Nathan only laughed harder.
My head rested against the chair as memories from last night replayed in my mind.
The blond man above me.
The warmth of his breath.
The way he looked at me like I was the only person in the room.
And then…
Nothing.
No note.
No message.
No trace.
Gone.
Nathan patted my shoulder.
"Relax, dude. Go take a walk or something."
I groaned.
But he was probably right.
As I stared out the window of the club, one thought lingered in my mind.
Would I ever see that mysterious blond again?
Meanwhile, in Hell…
The demon empress paced anxiously across her chamber.
Axel leaned against the wall, watching her calmly.
"Remind me," he said lazily, "why you're suddenly so worried about Liam?"
The empress stopped.
"Your father is hiding the situation," she replied sharply. "But rumors are spreading. People are questioning the emperor's authority."
Axel raised an eyebrow.
"Right."
He didn't believe her for a second.
Everyone knew she had never liked Liam.
After all, Liam had been born from one of the emperor's affairs with a succubus.
The door suddenly opened.
A tall figure entered and knelt immediately.
General Ivan.
The most feared demon in Hell.
White hair fell down his back, and his dark armor gleamed under the chamber lights.
"General Ivan," the empress said smoothly. "Have you considered my offer?"
The general lowered his head.
"Yes, my empress."
His voice was cold and emotionless.
"I will retrieve the errant prince."
Axel watched silently.
"By any means necessary."
The crown prince closed his eyes briefly.
And silently prayed his reckless brother would survive whatever came next.