Deep below, in the hellish cavern, the king sat at his throne, awaiting news from his most trusted demon. Bezel came stalking up the path to the seat of bones, kneeling before his lord. The king merely nodded his head in acknowledgement as he leaned back in a relaxed posture, legs slightly spread, arms upon two rests made of femurs, the end of one he very lightly tapped with a claw, scratching at the marrow with each tap. His eyes stared at Bezel as he rose to meet his gaze.<br/><br/>“My lord,” he began, his voice not as raspy as it had sounded on the surface, already feeling his energy return to him in the short time he spent in this place he calls home. The light of the flames reinvigorated him and the heat smoothed away some of the wrinkles. While he still looked elderly, he seemed a bit more refreshed. His yellow eyes took on a hard stare, “I have come back with news.”<br/><br/>“And?” The Demon King’s voice rang deep, a subtle gravel to the baritones that echoed off the walls.<br/><br/>Bezel felt his blood begin to boil again as it had in the woods the more he thought about that girl, but he took a deep breath through his nose and did everything he could to compose himself, “I regret to inform you, sire, that she has not made an attempt on any souls in the past few moons. While I assumed she to be moving forward on a skinwalker, she instead...” he paused, unsure of how to word it without making his master too upset that he’d take his anger out on whatever was in front of him, which to Bezel’s dismay is himself, “she...moved...<i>on</i>...him.” The king merely lifted an eyebrow at his subordinate. Bezel, interpreting this as confusion, elaborated, “she<i>kissed</i>him.” Again, the reaction he got was subtle, no other movement except for a blink of his lava colored eyes. Frustrated with the misunderstandings of his explanations, his face turns a bright red that could rival the colors of the fire around him as he exploded into a rant, "she was whoring all over him! They talked, and then he stripped down in the rain and she couldn't take his hands off of him! The two them touching, and caressing, and kissing, and tongues doing a nasty on each other, and if that imp hadn't shown up who knows how far it would have gone!"<br/><br/>Before he could continue his ramblings, the demon king held up his hand to silence Bezel from continuing any further. A small smirk played at the corner of the king's lips, "Bezel," he said with an almost disappointed tone, "You have been with me since the very beginning. Have you forgotten how I and many of my pets have recruited others?" He leaned forward, bringing his head down to just above Bezel's eye level propping himself with his hands on his knees as his voice got low, "Have you forgotten the first night that we had met?" His smirk widened, his facial expressions no longer subtle in their meaning.<br/><br/>Bezel's cheeks lightened from red to pink as he remembered that fateful night so long ago. The pleasure he had brought him ran through his body, building up between his legs as he recalled their erotic dance that lasted for three days straight. A shiver ran up his spine before he shook his head, as if trying to shake the feeling crawling on his skin. "That's....that was different. I knew what I was getting into. And even if I didn't, you would have found some way to persuade me, just like all the others! She...She wasn't even making the effort to persuade him! They were literally just talking! And after the imp poisoned the skinwalker, instead of just leaving him to die and let you just give him the choice to join you, she helped him! It was as if she cared for the beast!"<br/><br/>The king leaned back a bit, moving his hands to ball into fists to rest his chin upon, his elbows replacing the spot atop his knees. He hummed in thought as his eyes drifted over to the molten magma flowing slowly around the platform that held his throne, as if there was more information to be given to him there. "You are certain of this?"<br/><br/>"Yes, my lord." Bezel bowed his head slightly in a quick nod, "I at first left to the forest nearby to be certain she could not detect me, as I was not far nor disguised before the stray imp attacked. But as soon as I returned, as a bird, I leapt atop one of the window sills to this human establishment and witnessed her....knitting! She was mending the clothes that the skinwalker had torn! If that's not irrefutable evidence then I don't know what is. I tell you, she is a waste to us!" He whipped his first through the air towards his side with his last statement, as if he was putting his foot down in his observations of the girl as pure truth and his master needed to heed him.<br/><br/>The Demon King on the other hand could only hum again in contemplation. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling of his paradise, stalactites hanging from above with their sharp tips pointed threateningly towards any who stood below them. He stared intently, looking as if to the surface beyond the long and narrow peaks, as if directly gazing at the very topic of their conversation. "What are you up to now..." he mused, muttering the words to where only he could hear them. Bezel questioned, asking what it was that he had said, but the king ignored him, "Perhaps a small reminder is in order of what she is....and who she belongs to." He said this a bit louder for Bezel to hear this time, but before he could object, the king engulfed completely in flames, only to disappear as soon as the fire had extinguished. Bezel just stared, mouth agape in disbelief, at the empty throne. His mind raced, questions upon questions building up, and within him burning was a dark jealousy that he would never dare to admit. But beyond all the questions, all the feelings, all the rage and frustration, one word kept repeating itself over and over through his brain: Why?<br/><br/>---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>Meanwhile, up on the surface, inside the quaint tavern, a small breeze entered the demoness's temporary room. She could very well have missed the cool kiss of the wind as, like many buildings in the small village, it could get a bit drafty, especially so soon after a storm. Not long after, a breeze blew again, but this time it was localized across the back of her neck alone, like a sweet whisper. 'Good evening, my pet....' it seemed to say. A warm touch trailed along the spine of her back, softly caressing her skin lovingly.