Hell's Consort

Chapter 122 - The Empress Is Dead

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Vampire King

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When Apollyon was young, he watched how his father had imprisoned her mother--who was half-vampire and half-faerie--in the ivory tower for decades and he had considered that a normal occurrence.

He was so old that he had difficulty remembering how her Queen Mother had looked like because he wasn't allowed to see her all the time.

In the past, Apollyon's mother had preferred staying in the Scleranthus along with her maids without going outside not even to meet his father.

It was unfortunate that her mother had chosen her art over her own family.

Apollyon's mother had a vivid imagination despite not being exposed to the outside world.

His father did not allow her to meet other men aside from him, not even his own son.

It wasn't just Apollyon's father.

It was actually his great-great-grandfather who had ordered a witch to curse the Queen of the Vampire Realm's lair because of jealousy and paranoia that the wife they picked, who was the fairest of them all, would be taken away under their nose.

It was a curse in their masculine bloodline to have an obsession with their wife.

All his female ancestors, especially the Queens, were locked up in the Scleranthus for their beauty so that they wouldn't be taken away by the enemy or could be kidnapped for ransom in exchange for ruling the whole realm.

The Empresses in their family were treated as treasures but their roles in this tableau became clear later on.

The Empresses had existed as trophy wives and nothing else.

An object to show off.

An object to love and to protect at all costs.

An object that didn't have a heart, a mind, a soul.

An object for pleasure.

An object who must obey to whoever it belonged to.

Apollyon had learned that at an early age.

One of Apollyon's great grandfathers had married someone from the Shadow Realm, not knowing that she was a powerful witch.

His great-great grandmother's name was Amara, the first wide of his great-great-grandfather.

She was caught meeting with a buff cook--who was the King's favourite at that time--at the Kitchen's quarters.

Amara, wearing nothing but a night chemise, had asked the servant to cook for her in the middle of the night to avoid any suspicions from the other servants.

The King had caught on that they were together.

He had witnessed it with his own two eyes how Amara had released the servant's cock in his pants so that she could play with it while the man poured her a drink in her wine goblet after eating the cuisines the cook had prepared solely for her.

At that time, the Vampire King not only bit the muscled servant by the shoulder and drained him of his blood, but also he pulled the largest kitchen knife from the cupboard and hacked him to pieces in front of the Shadow Empress Amara.

Apollyon's great-great-grandfather had lost his mind from his Empress' betrayal, lifted his chin smugly and gave the Empress a psychotic grin.

He stabbed Amara with the same knife in the chest multiple times before he burned down the place.

He waited for Amara's chopped flesh and other detached bodies part to cook under the blazing flames.

He found the charred body parts after the kitchen servants had put out the fire.

The King had ordered the servant to place her Empress' cooked flesh in a silver platter before he ate all of them and paired it with a pint of blood.

That way, even if his Empress was dead they would still be together for the rest of eternity.

Inside his body.

Inside him.

The ivory tower where Apollyon had placed Luna for the meantime to keep her safe and away from the other Kings' grasp was originally built for Luna's grandmother.

His grandmother did not cheat like Empress Amara but his grandfather had imprisoned her in this tower for a century before she squeezed herself to the small window and fell to her death, lifeless and broken.

Oh, he had not forgotten her.

Legend said that the King had raped her nightly in the ivory tower with unflagging enthusiasm while the servants hear her feeble screams at night.

It was whispered among the Kingdom's subjects that Apollyon's grandfather was quite imaginative with his punishments.

In fact, Apollyon's grandfather had loved his Empress too much and it was jealousy which had compelled him to do this to his own wife.

It was only after his great-grandfather was bored with the bed sport that he had sought solace in the arms of other women, his consorts, that she hurled herself to death.

It was said that their ancestors were cursed because of Amara's blood and flesh in his great-great grandfather's veins.

Amara came from the Shadow Realm, a supernatural race who claimed that they had access to all kinds of dark magic especially irrevocable hexes and curses.

They were myths and rumours that it was all Amara's doing, cursing the entire bloodline of Apollyon's male ancestors and descendants with absurd jealousy that would drive them to kill their females.

This was the reason why the Consortium was created to avoid triggering the accursed jealousy and the paranoia.

The Consortium was already a tradition even before Apollyon was born.

Kidnapping women for the Consortium only got worse when Lilith summoned an Archdemon to possess him.

Lilith, picking Gluttony, in her reverse exorcism spells was the worst.

As Apollyon walked to the Council Room where his meeting with the other Kings was held due to what had occurred on the Acquaintance Affairs, he remembered how the chains clanked every time Luna struggled to jerk her wrist from the manacles.

He closed his eyes and inhaled his wife's scent in his memory.

Reminiscing the scent of her blood mixed with her arousal was the best aphrodisiac he had experienced.

Apollyon fiddled with his collar, opening the top three buttons of his white shirt before he stretched his neck.

He had his blood hot and running from all his imagination and he couldn't wait to get back to Luna.

He wouldn't be able to hold himself back from playing with her body again but this time, he would let her go from the shackles now that Apollyon had left off steam, leaving her alone to repent and think over her decisions.

Apollyon would make love to her slow and steady with gentle strokes to make up to her.

He will make sure Luna would love it.

After fixing this issue with the other Kings, he would let her drain him and tie him up if she desired it.

Apollyon had visioned Luna in many guises after this meeting: a haughty lady sneering down with her patrician nose at him, a malicious harpy admonishing him for his greed of his blood, bewitching temptress taunting him with a flutter of her lashes and a flick of her moist pink tongue as she took the initiative to pleasure him.

He couldn't wait to gaze at her curled on the bed like a small kitten, waiting for him to tell her what to do, eager to do his bidding with wide, mismatched eyes.

Apollyon halted in his tracks.

He realized each of those women were only illusions his mind had concocted to distract him for who she really was.

She was his wife.

Why was he treating her like a whore and a consort?

Why did he treat her like how his male ancestors--the past Vampire Kings--had treated their wives when she didn't deserve to suffer just like all the other Empresses in the past?

What had he done?

It was at this moment Apollyon knew that he had fucked up.

Why did he keep repeating the mistakes of his father, his grandfather and his great-great-grandfather?

The history will repeat its past cycles every time Apollyon didn't attempt to change their ancestral patterns so that he could lead a different life—a much happier married life—than his male ancestors did.

Did Apollyon want to make himself and his wife suffer the same fates as the past Kings and Empresses?

Apollyon was no different from his great-great-grandfather's or his grandfather's or his father's identities for being savage husbands, which was an identity he should steer clear from if he knew what was best for him

It was the curse of their ancestors working in his system right now that he had a hard time distinguishing the right from wrong.

He ran his fingers in his hair in frustration.

Apollyon had made a great mistake and he was afraid that he couldn't do something about it.

If the others could have seen him now, they would see him as the Vampire King with unkempt raven hair and red-rimmed, wild eyes as if he hadn't slept ever since.

Apollyon had been seething with icy anger because of Luna's disobedience.

Now, it was replaced with an edge of desperation, sharpening his expression.

Standing in front of the Council Room's double doors, Apollyon shook his head as he clenched and unclenched his fists, stopping the urge from pushing the handle to meet with the other Kings.

The Council Meeting with the other Kings could wait.

Apollyon guessed Jon could handle the matter for a while longer.

He needed to prioritize his wife first more than anything else.

Cederic saw him standing in front of the door.

He was about to call the Vampire King to alert him of the current discussions regarding the bargains Jon had made with the Kings as an apology for the misunderstandings but it was all too late.

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