My Wives are Beautiful Demons

The sepulchral silence was broken by a strange, fractured sigh. A long, heavy breath, as if the lungs of this demon were shattered and had just begun to move, awakened after years of dormancy.

The place lacked concrete lighting, illuminated instead by a faint, reddish glow. With his awakening, it began to pulse through the chamber, casting eerie light on the black stone walls adorned with living runes, whispering secrets of their existence.

At the center, a colossally intimidating figure sat upon a throne sculpted from bones and obsidian, surrounded by a strange energy barrier.

His eyes opened slowly, revealing slitted pupils within glowing blue irises, their intensity piercing enough to penetrate any soul.

He didn't move a muscle, yet the power emanating from his presence caused the runes to flare brighter, and the chamber itself trembled.

"When was the last time I felt the demonic air of this place?" he murmured into the void, stepping closer to the barrier.

"Ten years passed so quickly... and you've grown careless, Stella," he said, placing a hand on the barrier.

It was a simple gesture, yet it shattered like glass under his touch.

"My daughter must be an adult by now?" His voice was deep, reverberating against the walls like rolling thunder.

There was no one to answer.

But he didn't need a direct response… his body already felt the shift in the world's balance. Something had awakened him from his slumber, something powerful enough to disturb even the deepest layers of the underworld.

Closing his eyes again, his mind stretched across vast distances. Fragments of information began to coalesce, like shards of glass being pieced together into a mosaic. Until… he found her through his magic, far enough away to make him question why she was there.

"My daughter…" he murmured, surprise and anger lacing his voice. Then, the most shocking revelation: glimpses of her, no longer the obedient child he had left behind, but a grown woman… standing beside another man.

A man who now bore the title of husband.

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The ground around his throne cracked. His fists clenched as he rose, each movement radiating raw power. "She married… without my blessing?" He could hardly believe it.

The audacity… the betrayal… and, above all, the humiliation of something so monumental happening while he had been absent.

With a wave of his hand, he tore open a portal. The air around him grew dense, as if space itself resisted his will, but it was futile. He stepped through the vortex without hesitation, determined to confront whatever—or whoever—was responsible.

~~~~

Sitri Mansion – Main Hall

The atmosphere in the mansion was thick with tension, as though a dark storm loomed over it. Stella, Roxanne's mother, sat at the center of the grand hall, her gaze fixed on a book she held with apparent tranquility while indulging in sweets.

But her instincts told a different story. Something was coming. A primal awareness whispered at the edge of her consciousness, sharpening her focus. She could feel it—something was wrong. Then, the presence began to grow stronger.

And then, he arrived.

A thunderous sound echoed through the mansion's entrance.

The door was vaporized, shattered into countless fragments of wood. There he stood, his massive frame filling the doorway. A black cloak swirled around him like living shadows. His glowing eyes locked onto Stella, who now rose slowly, setting her book aside with measured grace.

"You dare invade my home after all this time?" Her voice was sharp, cold as the harshest winter. There was no warmth, only disdain.

"My home, Stella," he corrected, his voice laden with authority. "Or have you forgotten that everything here exists because of me?"

"I've forgotten many things about you... by choice." She stepped forward, openly defying him. "And if you've come for Roxanne, you'd better think twice before acting. I won't let you interfere in her life again."

He laughed, a sound so deep and menacing that the chandeliers swayed from the vibrations. "Let me? You think you can stop me? Roxanne is my daughter. She carries my blood, my legacy. And now, I find out she's married to a stranger—without my consent?"

Stella's eyes narrowed, her power radiating out in waves, filling the room with a suffocating pressure. "She's more my daughter than yours, and she made her choice. I won't let you ruin it for her."

"I didn't come here to argue with you." He stepped forward, each movement causing the ground to quake beneath him. "I came to see her. To decide if this man is worthy… or if he'll be destroyed."

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Stella raised a hand, and the very space around the hall began to ripple with her energy. "Take one more step, and you won't get the chance to see her. I'll end you here and now. If you think I'm as weak as I was back then, you're sorely mistaken."

The tension in the hall reached an unbearable peak.

Stella's aura grew, surrounding her like a tempest ready to erupt.

Her figure, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, was both majestic and fearsome. Her eyes blazed with a fury long suppressed, and the air around her seemed to boil. Every word she spoke carried the weight of a past she had no intention of forgiving or forgetting.

He, on the other hand, remained motionless, the shadow of a smile playing across his severe face. "Weak? You dare say that while looking at me, Stella? After everything you learned... from me?" His voice was a thunderclap, reverberating through the hall, making the very walls tremble.

He raised his hand, and with a single motion through the air, Stella's aura shattered as if it were made of glass.

"I said... you have no voice here, ex-wife." His words boomed through the hall like a decree.

He walked toward her, grabbing her by the neck and lifting her effortlessly. "Stella Sitri, your lack of vision is as pitiful as your damaged palate that finds solace only in sweets."

"Uhggh!" Stella gasped as his hand tightened around her throat, hoisting her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. Her feet barely touched the cold marble floor, and the crushing grip around her neck left her struggling for air. Yet, her eyes burned with pure fury, defiantly staring into his, refusing to show weakness despite her vulnerable position.

"And you... you're still the same pathetic monster," she managed to rasp out, her voice hoarse but laced with contempt. "Always hiding your insecurities behind brute strength."

He laughed, a deep, menacing sound like a beast savoring its prey. "Insecurities? Don't project yourself onto me, Stella. I am perfection incarnate. My blood flows through Roxanne's veins... and that's what makes her exceptional. Despite your weakness, she's my daughter." He lifted her higher, his fingers pressing like talons. "But you... you're nothing but a failure I was kind enough to forget."

Stella's eyes narrowed, and even as she gasped for air, her energy began to surge again. She would not let him intimidate her. "If I'm... a failure," she choked out, "then what does that make you? Someone who... needed me to create... something worthwhile."

The words hit a nerve. His expression twisted into a mix of rage and something bordering on humiliation. Without warning, he hurled her across the hall like a discarded object. Stella slammed against one of the walls, cracking the stone, but she rose almost immediately, albeit with visible effort.

"You should know when to stay silent," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "But it seems you never learned. Perhaps I should remind you... what it means to live under my shadow."

Stella spat blood but smirked, a defiant grin that only fueled his anger further. "And you... should know when to accept that you've lost. You have no power over Roxanne... or me."

The energy around him exploded, a vortex of darkness spiraling outward, threatening to consume everything in the hall. He charged forward, an unstoppable force of rage, but Stella raised her hands, her own energy radiating in brilliant waves.

"If you think I'm still the woman you left behind, it's time for a lesson," she declared, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "And it starts now."

Their energies collided, light and shadow clashing in a storm of raw power and will.

Just as the forces reached their peak, illuminating the hall in chaotic bursts of brilliance and darkness, an overwhelming presence descended upon the room.

The air grew heavy, as if reality itself buckled under an indescribable weight.

An elegant yet imposing silhouette materialized between the two combatants, and in an instant, all energy ceased, as if ripped away by an unseen force.

"Sapphire Agares," he growled, struggling against the invisible pressure that pinned him to the ground. "You dare to interfere in my personal affairs?"

She stepped forward, each movement exuding a cold, menacing grace. "Interfere? You barged into a Demon King's territory, attempted to murder its Queen, and thought you'd walk away unscathed?" Her voice was soft, almost melodious, yet carried the weight of a thunderstorm about to break. "It seems you've forgotten who rules here."

He strained against her aura, muscles taut as he tried to rise, but it was futile. The harder he pushed, the heavier the pressure grew, forcing him down further. "I don't fear you," he spat, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

"You don't need to fear me," Sapphire replied, leaning in slightly, her gaze cutting through him like a blade. "But perhaps you should. I've been here for some time, hoping to speak with my dear friend." Her glowing eyes shifted to Stella, softening slightly.

"I find it amusing... I came to see if this man is worthy..." Sapphire laughed softly, her gaze briefly shifting away.

"What are you..." The man began, noticing that she... was no longer the same.

"How could MY disciple not be worthy of something?" Sapphire questioned, her pressure increasing so much that the ground beneath them began to crack.

"Disciple?!" He snarled, his voice thick with disbelief and frustration. "You... trained that boy?!"

Sapphire tilted her head, a playful smile teasing the corners of her lips, though her eyes burned with something far more dangerous. "Vergil is not just my disciple," she began, her voice cold but carrying an unmistakable pride. "He is my Husband."