CHAPTER 611: THE NIGHT BEFORE DAWN

The castle flickered with the dark golden light of sparse candles. Most people slept earlier than usual because of the sudden news that Asmodeus would be leaving. However, in the inner keep, where Asmodeus and his women slept, the night was starting.

The mood in the great chamber wasn’t one of despair, but of determination. The women who would stay behind had their duties, and the ones chosen to go north carried themselves with great pride.

Even so, no one wanted to sleep.

The air smelled faintly of oil lamps, flowers, and the warm musk of tired but eager women gathering close around their lord.

Velvet broke the silence first.

"So, husband, one last night together before you go risk your neck again. Shall we draw lots?" She smirked, leaning back against the wall, arms folded. The firelight gleamed against her sharp purple eyes and the lean muscle beneath her thin robe.

Alice rolled her eyes, pushing up her glasses. "Childish. I’ll have him last. You all exhaust him, and I’ll enjoy what’s left when he’s weak and tired. Much more efficient."

"Efficient?" Asmodea scoffed, straddling the armrest of Asmodeus’s chair. Her thick, red hair spilt down one shoulder as she toyed with his sleeve. "What’s efficient about love, little duchess? I say we all smother him until he begs for release."

Sariel and Riel’s eyes shone at that suggestion, both of them gently hovering behind, pressing their nails into his jaw. "He’ll never make it to dawn at this rate."

Asmodeus sat still while listening to their words for quite some time, letting the familiar bickering roll over him like waves. Normally, he’d take control and guide things the way he wanted to start or finish. Or one of them gave up. Tonight, however, he only smiled at their silly games. The truth was... he didn’t mind either way.

Their intensity reminded him he wasn’t alone.

He let out a breath. "No fighting. Tonight isn’t about possession... I originally planned to only sleep with women who would stay here tomorrow."

"That’s unfair!" Sariel shouted.

"Sari is right, how can you not give love to those leaving with you either?"

Their words carried a weight that awakened the women who came to see him, despite saying what they wanted to. He couldn’t help but soften in the face of these women he loved.

In the end, it seemed he couldn’t avoid this, and a choice was made.

***

Erika stirred from the bed, hair dishevelled, still tired from the earlier confrontation. Her hands instinctively cradled her stomach as she sat up.

"You were so violent tonight..." she whispered, though her voice trembled as she continued. "Remember you promised to come home safe last night."

"I will." Asmodeus brushed her messy blonde hair away and kissed her forehead. The first woman to submit and leave the ’battle’ was Erika, who dropped to her back, still quivering from the aftermath.

Vinea slipped onto the mattress beside her, drawing her body around Asmodeus while panting heavily. "Don’t torment yourself, Erika. Our lord is stubborn, but I will keep him safe and we all know he’ll claw back from death itself if needed right husband?"

Asmodeus chuckled at the two women who dropped out first. "Of course I will."

The room remained hot and filled with the sultry aroma of alcohol and sex.

Levia knelt at the end of the bed between his things, her cheeks swollen as she pulled back off his shaft with a sticky pop, steam leaking from her lips. Her pale throat worked as she swallowed twice, before snorting through her nose and finally dragging in air.

"My Lord... it’s still...." she whispered hoarsely, one trembling hand stroking along his still erect length as though she were trying to tame some kind of feral beast.

Her black eyes flicked up, misted with heat and devotion, and she looked utterly undone. "Still so heavy... and thick.

Whether she spoke of his member or the sticky residue in her throat, it wasn’t clear.

Velvet laughed from where she lounged across his shoulder, sweat beading her collarbone. She reached down, pinched Levia’s cheek, and pulled until the paladin swatted her hand away in annoyance.

"Don’t hog him, look at those hungry monsters behind you waiting for a chance to taste it. This thing has made more women cry than you can imagine."

"Velvet." Asmodeus’s voice cut sharply, though his smirk betrayed him. His azure eyes lingered on Levia as he cupped the back of her head gently. "Don’t bite off more than you can chew tonight. If you faint, you won’t even have the strength to join me tomorrow, take some rest, Levia."

Levia swallowed again, then pressed her lips back to the swollen head of his shaft, whispering like a prayer. "I won’t... ever faint before you, my king."

At the very least, her determination to serve made his chest tighten.

On the opposite side of the bedroom, Asmodea shifted forward, thighs glistening, strands of her red hair drifting through the air like a dance. She wrapped her vines around his wrists again, trembling in delight as a low shiver rushed through her body. "You’re too soft on them," she murmured, pouting faintly. "What about us? I don’t want to share you tonight."

Before he could answer, Sariel slid down beside Asmodea, removing her clothes, causing Asmodeus to yelp. Her soft buds and silky pink petals parted, revealing her current state, which amused the Succubus.

"If half isn’t enough, then why don’t I just take him whole, and you can wait for the next time?"

"Shameless," Riel added, though her sly grin gave her away. She crawled onto his lap, pressing herself flush against his chest, her voice husky. "You said tonight isn’t about possession, Master. Then give us all of you equally... we’ll share you until dawn."

***

Asmodeus tilted his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes for a brief moment as the weight of them pressed in from every direction—tongues, teeth, hands, nails, whispers, sweat. Their warmth smothered him in a way he both dreaded and cherished.

Normally, he’d push one down, flip another, punish the rest until the room obeyed his rhythm. Tonight, he surrendered to theirs.

He knew why they fought so desperately.

Not just for pleasure, but because at dawn, some would ride beside him into the dangers of the north to fight Mephisto, and others would stay behind, praying he came back alive. This was their last chance to hold him, to mark him, to remind him he wasn’t just a king or a demon.

He was their husband.

And he wanted them to know he was theirs, too.

The night became a mysterious dance that dissolved into heat and movement. Moans, gasps and laughter blurred together, tangled with the slap of flesh pressed close. The bed creaked and shifted, silken sheets soaked with sweat and perfume.

Each kiss and touch carried their emotions.

A plea not to forget them.

A plea to return.

Asmodeus endured it all with a calm fierceness, giving back as much as he received. His hands stroked velvet thighs, tangled in crimson hair, and traced the curve of horns and wings. He let them bite his skin, scratch his chest, claim him as if to anchor him here. Even as exhaustion tried to pull him down, he didn’t resist. If this was their way of sending him off, then he would carry every touch with him into battle.

At last, when their bodies collapsed in a tangled heap, only the sound of soft breathing filled the chamber. Sariel draped across his arm like a lazy cat.

Riel curled at his side, Sariel mounting his hips, as his seed dribbled from her insides, face buried in his chest. Asmodea sprawled over his stomach with a contented sigh. Velvet leaned against the headboard, hair damp and smile faint, while Levia clutched his leg as if refusing to let go.

Asmodeus shifted carefully, kissing each forehead in turn.

"Sleep," he whispered. "I’ll be here until dawn."

The other women who waited lay on the second bed.

Yuina’s tired eyes opened just enough to meet his. "You’d better come back. If you don’t, I’ll drag you out of the underworld myself."

He chuckled softly. "I’d expect nothing less."

For a moment, the weight on his chest eased.

He wasn’t just leaving as a Demon King marching to war. He was leaving as a husband, a father, and a man with too much to lose.

The candlelight burned with a low, golden hue, shadows creeping up the walls. Asmodeus closed his eyes, listening to the quiet breathing of his wives. For the first time in days, his thoughts calmed.

Mephisto, Grigor, the battles waiting in the north—they would come soon enough.

But tonight belonged to them.

And when the dawn came, he swore he would rise carrying their warmth with him, and he would not fall.

Wrapped in love, he swore: at dawn, he’d return to them.