Laura the Devil's Wife

THE FEAST OF LEGIONS

Faceless forms hung from an altar before the great dining table. Princes, beasts, and eyeless kings sat in eerie stillness, waiting. The air pulsed with heat and whispers, as though the walls themselves breathed. When the blood trickled down from the bodies, it didn’t splash — it glided, dark and alive, into a skull-shaped chalice.

At the far end, Lucifer sat on his throne — motionless, calm, dangerously regal. When he lifted his head, our eyes locked. A chill swept through me. His lips curled into a slow smile.

“My Queen,” he said, his voice low and rich, like velvet dragged through smoke.

Every legion rose. They turned toward me, some with too many eyes, others with none at all.

“Live long, our Queen,” they echoed, their voices like layered thunder.

I forced a smile, trembling. “You may sit.”

Lucifer laughed softly, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “My subjects, you’ve seen it for yourselves. She’s daring—and I like that.” His eyes lingered on me just a little too long, amusement flickering behind them.

I tried not to stare at the altar, but the sight of the hanging figures made my stomach tighten. Lucifer tilted his head. “I hope you found the Hall without trouble, my Queen,” he said, gesturing for me to come closer.

I swallowed. My steps were small, uncertain. “Why would I get lost in my own kingdom?” I tried to sound bold, but my voice betrayed me with a soft tremor.

“Good,” he said. His smile deepened. “Then sit beside me.”

Every gaze in the hall followed me as I sat. My palms were damp; a bead of sweat ran down my neck.

From nowhere, instruments began to play themselves — haunting, beautiful, but dissonant. Masked servants in flowing black silk danced in slow circles. It felt like a celebration trapped between life and dream.

The dishes laid before us were unlike anything I’d ever seen — glistening meats that shimmered with shadows, silver goblets of dark liquid, fragments of light trapped inside crystal bowls. My chest tightened.

Lucifer noticed. He took my hand, warm and firm, his thumb brushing my skin. “Why so tense, my Queen? Your heart beats like a storm.” His whisper brushed my ear, leaving heat behind it.

I stammered. “Wh…who are those bodies? And what are we eating?”

He chuckled softly, a dangerous calm in his eyes. “So many questions. Enjoy the night first. When we’re alone, I’ll tell you everything.”

I nodded faintly, trying to hide my unease.

Lucifer rose suddenly. The hall fell silent. “Tonight, we celebrate my wife — your Queen. My second in command. My voice. My transformation.” His tone was royal, possessive.

A prince whose head resembled twisted roots spoke. “And she is divinely beautiful.”

Lucifer smirked. “I choose only the best.” He glanced at me, his gaze almost tender.

Another voice, deeper and colder, spoke from the corner. “Has she performed the ritual for immortality? She cannot last long here without it.”

“No,” Lucifer said firmly. “She doesn’t need to. I’ll protect her.” His hand brushed the back of my neck, a subtle claim that made my pulse quicken.

“Protection fades beyond realms,” the prince mocked. “You know what happens when a mortal crosses holy ground.”

Lucifer’s expression hardened. “We didn’t lose what was ours—we evolved.”

Silence consumed the room. The air thickened with invisible murmurs. I could feel their eyes, their thoughts brushing mine.

My mind raced. Ritual? Immortality? If I had that power, Devias would never have dared defy me. I looked at the altar. The faceless bodies were fading, turning to mist, while the skull filled with a pulsing crimson glow. Smoke curled upward, humming faintly.

My breath quickened. Could this be the ritual they spoke of? Surviving the altar? Becoming eternal through it?

Lucifer’s voice came suddenly, soft as silk against my mind. “Don’t worry about them, Laura. You don’t need the ritual yet. Immortality too soon would destroy you.”

I turned sharply toward him. He hadn’t moved an inch. That gentle smile again. That knowing look.

He had spoken directly into my thoughts. And now I realized — the silence in the hall wasn’t silence at all. The legions were communicating the same way. Without me.

“What are you hiding from me?” I whispered.

“Nothing,” he murmured aloud, his tone almost tender. “It’s simply not the time.”

“Why not?” My voice trembled with anger and fear. “What are you keeping from me, Lucifer?”

He sighed, the kind of sigh that felt centuries old. “You won’t understand yet, my Queen. I’ll show you... when you’re ready.”

“I want the ritual,” I blurted out, not recognizing my own voice.

The room froze. One of the shadow princes coughed out a harsh laugh. Lucifer’s jaw tightened. A flicker of red flared in his eyes.

I rose from my chair, my body trembling but my voice sharp. “Where is it held? Tell me!”

A whisper rippled through the air — one of the legions thinking, She’s going to be dangerous.

Then the skull began to rise. Slowly. Spinning, glowing from within. It hovered in front of me, humming softly.

I gasped, stepping back. The altar was now empty; the faceless bodies had become pure shadow.

Lucifer’s voice thundered, though he never shouted. “You’ll have to drink it.”

“Drink it?” I turned to him. “Why?”

“The altar it came from is the altar of immortality and power,” he said, his tone dark but steady. “Drink, and you’ll be bound to it forever.”

The entire hall waited. Every gaze burned into my skin.

My hands shook as I reached for the skull. Its surface was warm, alive.

Am I really about to do this?

The words of the faceless servant echoed in my head — This is not a good idea.

“Yeah,” I whispered to myself. “This is not really a good idea.”

I brought the skull to my lips and closed my eyes.

If I didn’t drink, would they see me as weak? Or would I lose something far worse?

My thoughts screamed louder than any sound.