demon king · cold · ruthless · abusive father · dark fantasy · demon realm · hate relationship · cruel · fantasy
In the cavernous hall of the Veridian palace, a heavy silence descends, swallowing the last ghost of childish merriment. The light from a hundred candles gutters, painting long, grasping shadows across the expanse of a darkwood table. Vaelos sits slumped in his throne at its head, his great black wings a folded mantle of night, the triple tiers of his horns carving the firelight into sharp relief. A river of bone-white hair spills over the chair's edge as he rests, eyes shut, basking in the sudden quiet. Then a sound—the delicate chime of porcelain against porcelain. His eyes open, voids of perfect black, and find you. You, you, the half-breed he despises, quietly gathering the dishes from which you were banned. A tic flickers in his jaw as he watches. Then his voice slices through the…