The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 103: Beautiful Darkness

Chapter 103: Beautiful Darkness

Where the air was alive with hushed whispers and expectant gazes, stepped in the Devil’s son, an entity of dark beauty that froze hearts and quickened pulses in equal measure. His entrance was a symphony of awe, the very ground trembling as if to acknowledge his presence.

Cascading like liquid night, his hair falls in inky waves that seem to absorb the very essence of light. Threads of raven-black weaved an intricate tapestry down his powerful frame, carrying with them an air of untamed power. Every movement sent these strands into a hypnotic dance, shadows caressing the marble floors as he walks.

Dark red eyes, a swirling blend of ember and coal, commanded attention from their lofty perch. They burned with an intensity that belies the cool demeanor of the Devil’s son, and each gaze captures not just attention, but souls themselves.

The swirling depths within those eyes seem to whisper of ancient secrets, a repository of infernal knowledge that surpasses human comprehension.

Adorned in garments that appear plucked from the abyss itself, Draco wore his darkness like a regal mantle. Fabrics of deepest obsidian shift with an uncanny fluidity, as if they were reflections of a starless night sky.

Their movements were both entrancing and eerie, shifting like the ebb and flow of shadows themselves.

On his face, he wore a black mask covering only one half of his face, but it didn’t deter the melancholy in his crimson gaze or conceal the sinister darkness masking over his face.

Around his neck, a pendant hanged, an emblem of his lineage and dominion. This pendant, forged from a twisted amalgamation of silver and blackened metal, gleamed with an inner fire, reflecting the red-hot intensity of his gaze.

As he moves, his long coat billows, revealing glimpses of intricate designs, runes of power etched into his skin.

With every step he took, the very air seems to tremble in deference to his presence. Shadows stretch and bend, weaving a tapestry of majesty that accompanies his journey through the ballground. His aura was both commanding and haunting, drawing the gaze of every attendee with an irresistible force that left an indelible mark upon their memories.

In this magnificent spectacle, Draco stood as a formidable figure, a living embodiment of the depths of darkness and the allure that lies within.

His entrance into the ballground was not just a moment, but a proclamation, a declaration that he is a force to be reckoned with, and that his presence will forever shape the destiny of those who encounter him.

They all curtsied with a bow as he walked ahead.

While Rama subconsciously goggled at him, he took long strides toward the podium where his throne was seated adorned with obsidian jewels and gold, depicting the title he held as not just a vampire king, but the prince of darkness with the devil’s blood coursing through his veins.

He sat with reposed movements on the throne, immense pride and ego wearing heavily over his shoulders as he moved, crossing one leg over the other while he leaned back lazily on the throne seat, chin resting lazily on his palm.

His gaze flickered over the guests with a bored look, but when his eyes dropped on her, his red eyes narrowed to a predatory look and a malignant smirk tugged the corner of his lips up, before averting his gaze away.

Awkwardly, Rama looked away from the beautiful darkness and directed her attention to whoever or whatever, as long as it kept him out of her mind.

Meanwhile, Damien was busy conversing with a few of the vampires, she merely added into it, earning spiteful glares and side eyes from the night creatures who would undoubtedly label her as rude.

Damien excused himself, but she didn’t care to bother where he was running off to, although she saw him mingling with a group male night creatures, they seemed to be close friends, but as soon as he joined the group, a bunch of female vampires joined into their little gathering, not that she cared, she didn’t even feel a tang of jealousy.

With rolling of her eyes, she looked away with a dragged sigh in boredom.

"Bored or nervous?" She asked Malika who was busy hiding behind her shadow.

"Both." The girl squeaked.

"Would you care for a drink?" A familiar, yet distant voice echoed from behind her.

She veered around mechanically and her eyes locked with bright red ones of Damien’s mother, Ideria as she approached them. She was clad in a stunning red dress too, her short black hair swinging over her shoulders in symphony. She was a gorgeous woman, no doubt, but her face was a far fetch from her attitude.

Ideria’s hand was extended toward her with a goblet in it. Rama’s gaze fell on the red liquid content, obviously wine which occupied the goblet with a skeptical eye before dropping it on her face.

Only one thought crossed her mind, ’she might have poisoned the drink’. It wasn’t unlikeable to happen as the woman’s unsuppressed displeasure for her was evident. So offering her a drink was rather suspicious.

"Thank you, but I don’t feel thirsty or hungry." Rama refused politely with a forced smile tearing through her lips.

The obviously fake smile plastered on her face suddenly dropped on her refusal to be replaced with a neutral look.

She retreated her hands mechanically and tipped the goblet up to her lips as she gulped down the liquid.

’So apparently, it wasn’t poisoned’ she thought inwardly. But still, she wouldn’t be that gullible to believe that the sly vampiress wouldn’t attempt to murder her.

"You know...if I was trying to kill you, it definitely wouldn’t be by a measly poison." The vampiress spoke with a dark grin.

It was a sugar coated threat with an apparent meaning. She would try to murder her but not in a measly way such as poisoning.

"I’m glad to know you see me as an important figure worthy of a significant death." Rama said with a cheery smile as if the woman hadn’t just threatened her.

Ideria scoffed darkly, but before she could spew another word, unfortunately, Amon and Onyx appeared out of nowhere.

Ideria immediately scoffed in disgust when her eyes narrowed to the demons. Eventually, they both had something in common, they despised the demons.

Amon’s gaze narrowed for too long a moment on Malika who was finding solace hiding in Rama’s shadows, while Onyx stared at her with apparent envy and malicious intent swirling in her black eyes.

Amon was unsurprisingly clad in a black leather outfit embellished with grey obsidian stones and golden jewelleries hanging on his neck, wrists, fingers and ears, screaming extravagance and luxury etched on his skin. ’Typical demon of greed’ Rama thought inwardly.

Onyx was dressed in a black revealing dress as usual, it glimmered under the dim candlelight illuminating from the chandelier, but what piqued Rama’s interest was the amount of trust she had for the frail clothing hugging her.

"What a wonderful night to be talking about slaughtering your son’s future wife." Amon said as he winked mischievously at Malika who immediately averted her gaze.

"My night couldn’t be any more wonderful." Ideria said stiffly as she walked out on them with a high chin.

"Well, congratulations human, you have two hunt for your head, let’s see how much your sharp mouth and brain can save you." Onyx drawled as she eyed her with detest and twisted lips before leaving her sight.

Amon’s emerald eyes sparkled darkly, a hint of mischievousness gleaming in them as he narrowed his gaze to Malika who was avoiding eye contact with him.

"Hello Malika, why are you avoiding me?" Amon said in a sultry voice as he leaned against a pillar with arms crossed over his chest.

Rama turned to face her "It’s alright, just stay with the crowd." She whispered in a barely audible tone, but Malika understood what she meant to imply.

"Would you mind having a dance with me?" Amon said with extended hand as he stood up straight with a half crooked grin breaking through his dark lips.

She hesitated before moving out from Rama’s shadows, as she placed her hand atop his. He pulled her gently toward the dance floor, the fragile flower stealing the gazes of the night creatures as they stepped into the dance floor.

Rama sighed as she darted her eyes around aimlessly, but then, she directed her gaze to the throne seat and her eyes locked into the dark magnetizing pull of Draco’s ember crimson gaze.

His unwavering attention was fixated on her and before she could look away, he sprouted up on his feet and she watched his retreating figure as he disappeared into the darkness of the corridors.

Her breath hitched in anticipation and curiosity as her mind brewed an inner battle on whether to go after him or not. She was curious and her mind was in disarray on why he was hellbent on seducing her and trying to sabotage her wedding, but deep down, her heart yearned for something else, something her mind didn’t want to conform to.

Utilizing her curiosity as an excuse, she shot a wary glance at Damien and the others who were engrossed in the party, before dashing out of the scene with hurried footsteps and bated breath.

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