Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1244: Athena’s Secrets 2

The room was silent for a moment, with the faint glow of flames from the sconces casting dancing shadows on the walls. Then, Athena raised her hands to her robes, undoing the clasp that held them.

The silken fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling gracefully around her feet in a soft whisper. Her form, radiant and commanding even in its vulnerability, seemed to light up the room.

Moranda’s eyes followed her movements, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. Without hesitation, he moved toward her, his hands eager to embrace her. She let him take her, and soon, the sounds of their passion echoed through the chamber, mingling with the distant roar of the hellfires outside.

Hours passed. The two now lay entwined on the grand bed, the crimson drapes of the bed sheets partially covering their bodies. Athena rested her head against Moranda’s chest, her fingers lazily tracing small circles across his skin. His hand moved through her fiery hair, the strands glowing faintly as if alive with embers. For a while, neither of them spoke, allowing the heavy silence to settle between them.

Then, breaking the stillness, Moranda’s deep voice rumbled. "That slap you gave me earlier—it was a strong one, Regent." He chuckled softly, though his tone carried a hint of something more. "I’ll forgive the apology this time, but the other cup bearers… they’re not as forgiving. They’re still seething."

Athena’s fiery eyes narrowed slightly, and she sat upright in a single, graceful motion. Her expression was sharp, her voice firm. "You shouldn’t be complaining, Moranda. This has been our arrangement for the last hundred years. I made you head of the cup bearers. You’re supposed to keep them in line and ensure they respect me as Regent."

He also sat upright, brushing a hand through his disheveled hair. "I do," he said with a faint edge of irritation. "But you’ve humiliated me in front of them more than once. It’s not the first time, Athena, and it won’t be the last. I’m not so sure how long they’ll keep their obedience before they start plotting rebellion."

Athena scoffed, her voice carrying a note of disbelief. "Then apply more pressure. That’s what you’re here for."

Moranda sighed and leaned back against the headboard. "I can, and I will. But if you want my best efforts, Athena, maybe it’s time you told me what’s going on. What is the Hell Mother doing? Why has she been hidden away for the last hundred years? Why did she make you Regent of Hell instead of showing her strength herself?"

At his words, Athena’s face darkened. Her fiery yellow eyes flared brighter, their glow casting harsh shadows across the room. Her jaw tightened as she rose from the bed, moving to gather her discarded clothes.

Moranda shifted uncomfortably, sensing her anger. He held up a hand, his tone more conciliatory. "Athena, wait. I didn’t mean to offend you—certainly not like this. I know better than to question the Hell Mother directly. You have my loyalty."

Athena didn’t respond as she fastened her robes back into place. When she finally turned to him, her expression was cold and unyielding. "I’ve warned you before, Moranda. What the Hell Mother is doing is a secret. It is not for you to know, and no one in Hell is allowed to question it."

Moranda, always bold, tried to lighten the tension. He stepped forward with a playful smirk, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You’re always so serious, Athena. Let me—"

His words were cut short as Athena shoved him back with surprising force. Her patience had snapped, and the air around her ignited, flames licking at her skin as the power of the phoenix within her surged. Her voice, when it came, was thunderous. "Enough!"

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She raised her hand and struck him with a blazing slap. The force sent him sprawling back onto the bed, his cheek scorched from the fiery impact. He groaned, clutching his face, but he didn’t dare rise.

Athena stood over him, her eyes burning with fury as she stared him down. Her voice was icy and sharp. "You’re a servant of the Hell Queen, and by extension, you’re my servant. Don’t forget your place, Moranda. You’re nothing more than a rag on the ground, a tool for me to use as I see fit. Even coming here was for my convenience, nothing more."

Moranda lay there, stunned and silent, as Athena turned and stormed out of the room. Her presence left the air heavy with her anger, the heat of her power lingering in the chamber long after she was gone.

As the door slammed shut behind Athena, the chamber remained still for a moment, the heavy atmosphere of her anger still palpable in the air. Moranda lay sprawled across the bed, rubbing his scorched cheek with a hand, his lips curling into a faint sneer.

Suddenly, the crimson sheets on the bed began to ripple unnaturally, as though alive. From the folds, two figures materialized, their forms sinuous and alluring, the very embodiment of lust and temptation. The succubi, who had left earlier, reappeared, their naked bodies glistening in the dim light of the room.

Both were exquisite in their devilish beauty—skin smooth as silk, curves designed to ensnare, and glowing, predatory eyes that promised wickedness. Their wings fluttered faintly as they approached Moranda, each step calculated to entice.

One of them leaned down, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "We tasted her, you know. The Regent’s sex essence, left behind on the sheets. And you were right. She’s hiding something, lying to you."

Moranda chuckled darkly, sitting up with an almost lazy confidence. "I didn’t need her fluids to tell me that." He waved a dismissive hand, his tone mocking. "No one knows Athena like I do. Long before she became Regent of Hell, before she wore the crown of flames, she was just Athena, the gladiator of Earth. I knew her then, and I know her now."

His laughter deepened, a sinister gleam in his eyes as he looked past the succubi, lost in his own machinations. "This is my chance," he said, his voice growing colder, more calculated. "To take Hell. To make it mine. And I won’t hesitate."

One of the succubi perched on the bed beside him, her clawed fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. "And what of your love for her?" she asked, her voice syrupy sweet, though her eyes glimmered with malice.

Moranda snickered, the sound cruel and devoid of affection. "Love? That’s the only reason I haven’t killed her yet. I’m kind, after all." He tilted his head back, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued. "When I’m King of Hell, I’ll cut off her limbs and leave her tied to this very bed, naked and broken. She’ll learn her place as my pleasure toy then."

The succubi exchanged glances, their wicked smiles growing. His words seemed to excite them, their claws trailing over his skin as they pressed closer. "King of Hell," one murmured against his neck, her voice thick with lust.

The other giggled, her lips capturing his in a fervent kiss as her hands roamed over his body. "We’ll serve you, my king," she purred.

Their enticement worked as intended, and soon the three were entwined once again, their passionate cries filling the chamber. Moranda, lost in his ambition and indulgence, paid no mind to the faint flicker of light still glowing outside the room—a lingering remnant of the phoenix fire Athena had left behind...