CHAPTER 29: CHAPTER 28. DEMON OF THE NORTH

Vivianne kept her head down, her face burning with shame as Roxanne carried her out of the tent in her strong arms the following morning. She couldn’t bring herself to meet the eyes of the knights waiting outside.

She knew they weren’t saying anything, but their silence only made her embarrassment worse. Roxanne’s demon horns are still fully visible, black and curved elegantly from her head, a lingering reminder of the night they’d spent together.

Although Roxanne had returned to her human form, the evidence of what had happened was impossible to hide, especially from Vivianne, who still felt the ache deep in her body from her wife’s unrelenting passion.

Morning light filtered through the misty mountain air, soft and pale, yet it did little to soothe Vivianne’s trembling. She had tried to stand when dawn broke, determined to at least leave the tent on her own two feet, but the moment she put weight on her legs, they gave out beneath her. Her thighs were sore, her hips aching, and her entire lower body trembling from the sheer intensity of the night before.

When she realized she couldn’t walk properly, her face flushed crimson. She clung to Roxanne’s shoulders, burying her face in her wife’s neck to hide her expression. "I... I can’t..." she whispered, her voice strained and soft, barely audible. "I don’t want to... spread my legs and sit on a horse right now." Her tone was almost pleading, filled with humiliation.

Roxanne let out a low, warm laugh that rumbled deep in her chest, the sound affectionate rather than mocking. "Sweetheart," she murmured, her crimson eyes gleaming with mischief, "you don’t have to. I’ve got you."

With a few quick commands, Roxanne instructed one of the maids to place extra cushions on her saddle. The maid worked quickly, arranging the pillows so Vivianne would have a soft, supportive seat.

Once it was ready, Roxanne mounted her massive black warhorse with effortless grace, settling Vivianne carefully on her lap. She held her omega securely in her arms, cradling her as though she were the most precious treasure in the world.

As the party resumed their journey toward the capital, Vivianne’s tense body slowly began to relax. The steady rhythm of the horse’s movement and the comforting strength of Roxanne’s arms lulled her into a drowsy haze. Within minutes, her breathing evened out, and she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep against her wife’s chest.

Roxanne glanced down at her, a soft smile touching her lips. Being half-demon had its advantages; she didn’t need sleep the way other races did. In fact, demonkin like her could go without rest for weeks, even months, without suffering fatigue.

It was one of the reasons demons had been nearly unstoppable on the battlefield throughout history. While werewolves and beastmen needed to rest and recover to maintain their strength, demons could fight endlessly, overwhelming their enemies through sheer endurance and relentless power.

As they traveled, a familiar ripple of energy stirred the air in front of Roxanne. A moment later, the shimmering form of Undine materialized, hovering before her with a pouty expression.

The spirit’s translucent arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her watery hair flowing as though moved by an unseen current. She pointed directly at Vivianne, her face filled with worry and scolding disapproval.

Roxanne only chuckled, her sharp teeth glinting as she gave the spirit a sly, almost smug smile. "Well," she said casually, shifting Vivianne’s sleeping form slightly in her arms, "she chose me. What can you do about it, spirit king?"

Undine puffed out her cheeks in frustration, clearly unhappy with Roxanne’s answer, and gave an exaggerated huff before vanishing into mist, leaving a faint trail of shimmering droplets behind.

"Wait..." Red, who had been riding a few paces away, had seen the whole exchange. His eyes went wide, and he leaned forward on his saddle, his curiosity plain on his face. "My Lord, you can speak with spirits now?" he asked, astonished.

Roxanne tilted her head, glancing at him with an amused look. "No," she replied calmly. "I can’t hear their voices... but I can read their expressions very well."

As if to prove her point, Roxanne’s gaze shifted to a group of spirits hovering curiously nearby. They floated closer, their ethereal faces filled with awe and concern as they peered at Vivianne. Roxanne gave them a reassuring nod and spoke in a soft tone.

"She’s fine," she said, her voice warm but firm. "Just asleep." The spirits seemed to relax, their forms shimmering more brightly before they faded back into the air, their worry eased by Roxanne’s words.

"Wow," Red muttered, his mouth hanging open slightly. He gave a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "That’s... actually really cool."

Roxanne smirked faintly, shifting her hold on Vivianne as the horse continued its steady pace. "It has its uses," she said simply, her eyes softening as she looked down at her sleeping wife, her expression a mix of pride and devotion.

Roxanne had never wanted a mate. From the very beginning, she was certain she would live her life alone, free from the complications and responsibilities that came with binding herself to an omega.

The thought of marriage or claiming a mate had always felt like a burden to her, a chain she didn’t need or want. With the blood of two of the most powerful alpha lines flowing through her veins, the royal werewolf lineage and the demon king’s bloodline, she knew better than anyone the danger she carried within her.

Her power isn’t just overwhelming; it’s destructive. It could crush any omega who bound themselves to her. Her alpha’s power alone is enough to drown an omega’s senses, to leave them trembling, terrified, and broken.

And when her rut comes, it’ll be worse. It’ll not be just passion or a connection for the alpha and the omega. It’ll be too primal, too violent, and too consuming. Roxanne knew that no ordinary omega could ever withstand her. To claim one would be to destroy them, leaving them with scars both physical and emotional, perhaps even ruining them for life.

Because of that, she had chosen solitude. It was safer for everyone if she kept her distance. She would fight, she would protect, and she would lead, but she would never take an omega into her arms. Not when she knew what she was capable of doing to them.

And that was supposed to happen when she visited Rothschild; she would directly reject the omega and then move on with her life. However, everything changed the moment she met Vivianne.

From the instant her crimson eyes met Vivianne’s, something deep and ancient stirred within Roxanne. It wasn’t just desire. It wasn’t just instinct. It was a connection so profound, so undeniable, that it shook her to her very core.

In that single moment, even her own wolf and demon, who are always fighting inside her, are finally agreeing on something. That the omega in front of her is special, her power is unique, and she’s her only mate in this life.

And for the first time in her life, she felt like the heavens themselves had reached down into her personal hell and offered her a sliver of salvation. Vivianne isn’t just another omega.

She’s the one, the mate fate had chosen for Roxanne, the only soul strong enough to stand beside her without fear. How her pheromone and her omega essence are so strong they could handle Roxanne alone.

The only one who could endure her overwhelming power, calm the raging storms of her ruts, and bring her back from the brink when her demonic instincts threatened to consume her entirely.

Roxanne had spent her entire life believing she was cursed to walk alone, destined to be a creature of war and ruin. But when she looked at Vivianne, she saw hope. She saw light. She saw a future where she isn’t just a weapon or a ruler feared by all, but a woman who could love and be loved in return.

From that moment on, there was no doubt in Roxanne’s heart. Heaven had sent her Vivianne, and she would protect her with every ounce of her strength, even if it meant defying the fate she had once believed unchangeable.

Last night had proven what many of them thought impossible. Vivianne can deal with Roxanne in her full demonoid form, a sight that once sent terror even into the hearts of her most loyal knights.

Yet this time was different. Roxanne didn’t lose herself to madness, nor was she consumed by the endless thirst for blood that always shadowed her ruts. Instead, she was steadied, her raging hunger subdued, and her darkness anchored by the gentle yet powerful pull of Vivianne’s pheromones.

That overwhelming controlling power from Vivianne held her fast when chains and walls could not. For the first time, Roxanne felt what it meant to be tamed not by force, but by love. And in that moment, her devotion to her omega grew into something deeper, something unshakable.

"You shall protect her with your lives," Roxanne declared, her words gentle but firm, and can be heard by all her knights who are riding on their horses. "She’s my omega. She’s your Luna, the heart of this small kingdom we have built together. It was she who calmed me, who held me in her grasp when the demon within raged to break free. Alone, I would have been lost to bloodlust. But she, with nothing but her presence, steadied me. For that, her life is worth more than myself, more than my sword, more than my very breath."

The knights listened in silence, each of them struck by the weight of their master’s confession. They had long known the truth of Roxanne de Borgia’s true self, how every rut forced her into seclusion, locked away in chains or left alone in the depths of a monster-filled mountain until the storm passed. It was the very reason they had chosen this perilous shortcut; Roxanne herself had foreseen the coming of her natural rut and feared the destruction it might bring.

But now, everything had changed. For the first time, there’s no need for chains, no need for exile, and no need for fear. Their master had found her anchor, her Luna, and her salvation, and the knights knew their duty was no longer only to Roxanne but also to the woman who had saved her from herself.

"Yes, Your Grace!" the knights answered as one, their voices firm and loyal. The sound, though respectful, is loud enough to stir Vivianne from her slumber.

Her eyes fluttered open, confusion and alarm rushing through her as she woke up abruptly. "What happened?" she asked, her voice edged with panic, still half-dreaming and fearing the worst.

But Roxanne is already there, steady and gentle, her arms wrapping protectively around her omega. She pressed Vivianne close against her chest; the fierce warrior suddenly softened into something warm and tender.

"Nothing happened," Roxanne whispered with a sweetness rare for one known as the feared Demon of the North. Her tone is hushed, like a lullaby meant only for Vivianne’s ears. "They were only jesting. Rest now, my beloved. Go back to sleep." And as Roxanne held her, Vivianne’s body sank into the safety of her mate’s embrace.