CHAPTER 165: CHAPTER 165: THIRD DEMON KING

Cassian didn’t know whose idea it had been first—probably Veyce’s, since most bad ideas started with him—but when the other boy suggested, with a glint in his eye, "Concubine Hall?" Cassian didn’t say no.

He’d been there once before, and back then the place had unsettled him. All that silk, laughter, and smoke; the coy smiles of people who seemed to know a thousand secrets; the lingering scent of spiced wine and perfumed skin.

But now... now he understood it better. These weren’t the half-forgotten lovers of the Supreme Lord, nor the sort of "concubines" he’d been warned about in human tales. They were, in many ways, political ornaments—court members in silk instead of armor, using beauty the way others used blades.

And honestly? The food was amazing.

So he went without argument, letting Veyce lead the way through the gilded corridors toward the Hall’s opulent entrance.

The moment they stepped inside, the air changed. Cushions sprawled across sunken lounges, trays of jeweled goblets floated by on enchanted trays, and soft music thrummed low like a heartbeat beneath the chatter. A woman with sapphire-painted lips offered them each a piece of candied fruit; Veyce took two and winked at her.

"Best place in the palace," he declared through a mouthful, collapsing onto a low couch and stretching out like a cat in the sun. "Food, comfort, games... and the best entertainment in all the realms."

Cassian allowed himself to relax, sampling the honeyed wine and nibbling on a pastry stuffed with something rich and spiced. For a moment, it was easy to forget the strange incident in etiquette class, the parchment, and the instructor’s expression.

That was when the noise started.

It began as a ripple as a commotion broke in some other part of the hall and swelled quickly into a full-fledged drama. Servants darted by with wide eyes. A goblet clattered to the floor somewhere.

Cassian sighed into his drink. "Is this palace ever peaceful?"

Veyce grinned, leaning back on one elbow. "This," he said, gesturing broadly, "is the beauty of Concubine Hall. Not a single day without drama." Then he was on his feet, tugging Cassian up with a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Come on. Let’s see what’s causing it. Maybe we can spot the Supreme Lord again."

Cassian hesitated, but... the thought lit something in him. He still owed him an apology for his rudeness last time—rudeness that had been more instinct than intention. Perhaps this was his chance.

They wove through the crowd, following the noise until the source came into view—and Cassian stopped dead.

Seated on a throne-like divan in the center of the hall was a demon so breathtaking it almost hurt to look at him. Radiance seemed to roll off his skin like sunlight over water, warm and blinding. His hair tumbled in loose waves that caught the light, and his smile was a weapon that could unmake kingdoms.

Two exquisite figures—one male, one female—were draped across his lap, shameless in their languid touch. Neither of them cared about the dozens of onlookers. In fact, they seemed to revel in the attention. And judging by the envious murmurs from both men and women alike, they weren’t alone in their admiration.

Cassian’s ears caught Veyce’s lazy commentary beside him. "You’ll find the demon world doesn’t... How do I put it... Waste time pretending. They want something? They take it. No concern for ’decency.’ And the higher their rank, the less they care. Etiquette and rules? That’s for the bottom rungs. The top can behave however they please."

Cassian’s gaze, despite himself, lifted to the demon’s face—and his blood turned to ice.

That face. That smile. That predator’s glint hidden behind velvet ease.

His chest tightened as a memory surged—the coffin, the weight pinning him down, a mouth so close it stole his breath.

Oh no.

He should leave. Right now. Before those eyes found him. Before that lust-drenched demon decided he looked like something worth tasting again.

Veyce’s voice suddenly went sharp with excitement beside him as he also noticed the face of the demon realm.

"Holy hells—do you know who that is?" he hissed, clutching Cassian’s sleeve hard enough to wrinkle it. "That’s not just some pleasure, lord, Cass. That’s the Third Demon King."

Cassian blinked. "The... what?"

Veyce’s grin stretched wide, eyes glittering like he’d just stumbled into the greatest gossip of the century. "The demon realm has four Demon Kings—immortals nearly as old as the Supreme Lord himself. They’re... how do I explain this... walking calamities with crowns. But they’ve all been in slumber for centuries—thousands of years for some. Only the Fourth Demon King has been awake for the past few years, and now—now—" He gestured toward the radiant figure with both hands, nearly bouncing on his heels. "The Third is awake. Do you know what this means? The balance is shifting. The second and first could wake next..."

"I don’t care about the balance," Cassian muttered, but his voice lacked conviction. His stomach had already sunk to the floor.

Veyce barreled on, too caught up in his own thrill to notice the way Cassian’s shoulders had stiffened. "Third King, Cass! Only second in authority to the Supreme Lord himself. God, he must have just woken—look at the way everyone’s staring. This is history in the making!"

Cassian risked one more glance toward the man—no, the King—and instantly regretted it.

The Third Demon King lounged like he’d been born to that seat, his every movement steeped in lazy dominance. The two beauties in his lap whispered into his ears, one trailing fingers along his jaw, the other playing idly with the clasp of his robe, but Cassian barely noticed them. His gaze locked on the king’s eyes...

Those eyes.

It was like being dragged back into the coffin all over again...damn, he did not want to come in contact with him again.

Cassian’s pulse spiked. He turned sharply away. "We should go."

Veyce gave him a look. "What? Why? We just got here—"

"Now," Cassian hissed, already taking a step back.

But he’d moved too late.