I walk beside him, my large hand wrapped around his small, pale one. His palm is cold against mine, but I already feel his warmth growing, fed by my energy. His new black wings are folded against his back, still heavy and painful, but so beautiful… so perfect. Their deep black is laced with red and gold veins, like embers glowing beneath his skin. I can’t stop looking at them.

He walks slowly, his legs still weak after his transformation. His blue gaze, deeper than before, takes in every detail of the palace. I can feel it… his tension, his nervousness, but also his curiosity. His fingers sometimes tighten around mine, and I squeeze his hand harder to remind him I’m here, he is protected, he is mine.

We descend a wide staircase of black stone, carved with ancient runes and lit by torches with blue flames. The heat here is soft, almost pleasant. The corridor opens onto an immense gallery overlooking the underground city.

I see him stop abruptly, his breath catching, his wings trembling on his back. I turn to him, and a tender, burning smile spreads across my lips.

“Look, my angel… here is my people. Your people… now.”

Below us stretches the demon city as far as the eye can see. A sea of black domes, obsidian towers, streets paved with solidified lava snaking between the buildings. Immense arches span the avenues, engraved with golden runes. Suspended bridges connect the towers, lit by fire lanterns. At the center, a palace even grander than mine rises atop a glowing red lava lake, standing like a throne of darkness and light. Columns of blue flames climb toward the stone ceiling, illuminating the darkness with a supernatural glow.

Demons walk the streets. Tall, powerful, some winged, others covered in black scales, some with red eyes, others yellow or violet. All are beautiful in their own way, but none… none compare to Caël’s beauty. Their skin is dark, marked with living tattoos that shift beneath their flesh. Their clothes are made of black leather, red silk, dark furs. They wear jewelry of gold and obsidian, diadems on their horns, thick rune-carved collars.

Caël stands still, trembling slightly. His eyes are wide, his lips parted. His wings flutter weakly behind him. He grips my hand tighter, his slender fingers whitening under the pressure. I lean down, my mouth brushing his ear, my deep, low voice filled with raw tenderness:

“You have nothing to fear. They are mine… just as you are. And none will ever touch you.”

He slowly turns his face to me. His eyes are wet, shining with a light I had never seen before. He whispers, his voice trembling, broken, but filled with pure emotion:

“It’s… magnificent… Azrael… it’s… so beautiful…”

My heart clenches violently in my chest. A soft growl escapes me, and I place my free hand on his cheek, caressing it with my thumb. I tilt my head and press a burning kiss to his trembling lips. He moans softly against my mouth, his body shivering under my touch.

I straighten and gaze at him for a long moment. His silvery hair glows under the firelight, his iridescent black wings frame his nude body, covered only by a black cloth draped around his waist. He is magnificent. My king. My husband. My soul.

I pull him against me, his wings spreading slightly in surprise. My powerful arm wraps around him, my deep voice vibrating against his ear:

“Come… it’s time for your people to see you. For all to know… that you are mine… for eternity.”

And as we descend the steps leading to the city, I feel his heart beating hard under my hand. A burning beat. A beat… for me.