Claim and Cast Aside

He stood on the balcony, hands gripping the rail as he stared into the night.

The sky glittered with stars, but his thoughts were stormy, unsettled.

It had taken everything in him not to whisk her away the moment he realized she was his. But he had to wait. Be patient. Still, his blood boiled with longing. Every part of him screamed to claim her now. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the fire inside.

But then—headlights cut through the dark.

A red car rolled into the compound. From where he stood, he watched a woman in her late thirties step out gracefully and disappear into the house.

Zyla, also a demon, had been his bedwarmer. He was in a human body—he had urges too, even as an immortal.

They met in the 19th century, in a private club she owned. Their first night had been unforgettable, if only physically. She'd tried to make him love her, clung to that hope for decades—but she was a whore, and he never pretended otherwise.

She couldn't give him what he needed. No demon could. Only one woman could bear him offspring: a human with a pure soul, born under a full moon.

Zyla's sex drive was uncontrollable by human standards—only demons could match it. She had built her wealth by giving herself to those with power and influence. That was her currency. That was her life.

Moments later, she entered the room and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

Without a word, Sebastian turned and grabbed her waist, his mouth crashing against hers in a hungry kiss. She melted into him, breathless. One hand gripped her waist tightly while the other cupped her breast—rough, possessive. There was nothing gentle about him, and she wanted it that way.

She gasped as he spun her around and ripped her gown apart. His eyes gleamed in the dark, wild with lust and distraction.

"Fuck," she moaned as the cold air hit her bare skin.

He bent her over, tore through her lingerie. Pulling a condom from his pocket, he ripped it open with his teeth and thrust into her without hesitation. She cried out, gripping the railing as he drove into her, his fingers bruising her hips.

"Oh yes… harder…" she gasped, voice thick with desperate pleasure.

His rhythm intensified, his head thrown back. But his mind wandered. His body was here, but something about tonight felt final—like closing a chapter.

"I'm going to cummm…" she cried.

Just before she did, he pulled out, scooped her up, and tossed her roughly onto the bed. Spreading her legs, he entered her again, harder than before. Sweat rolled down his forehead. His movements were fast, unrelenting.

"She's mine," he growled, his voice low and primal—but it wasn't Zyla he was talking about.

The pressure built until they both came undone—trembling, gasping.

Sebastian rose wordlessly and walked into the bathroom. The cold water grounded him, clearing his head. Minutes later, he stepped out in a robe and moved toward the closet. He dressed in black pants and a shirt.

"Zyla, you'll be relieved of your duties," he said quietly as he buttoned his shirt.

Zyla sat up, clutching the duvet to her chest, eyes wide. Her voice came out soft, uncertain.

"But… you said until you found her."

She had prayed he'd never find the girl. Humanity had grown dark and impure—filthy souls, decaying values. She thought such purity had died out. But now it seemed the prophecy had proven her wrong.

She had his protection. Power. Prestige. As long as he kept her close. But not anymore.

He didn't turn.

"Do you dare question my authority?" he asked, voice like ice.

She lowered her eyes. "No, my lord."

Her heart burned with hatred. Whoever this new woman was—this human—she had ruined everything. She would pay. Zyla would see to it. The Demon King may have cast her aside, but she was no weakling. She didn't show her fury—yet. But revenge simmered under her skin.

"Good. Get dressed," he said as he walked out.

Moments later, a maid entered, pushing a gown rack toward the bed. Zyla said nothing.

---

He descended the stairs—but then he froze.

The air had shifted.

That energy… Familiar. Unmistakable.

His eyes narrowed.

Darven. A fellow demon. They had met in chains—slaves together once. They escaped together. But while Sebastian had become a king, Darven remained cunning, unpredictable.

"Sebastian Vaelrath," Darven said with a teasing smile. He lounged on the living room couch like he owned it.

"What are you doing here?" Sebastian's tone was sharp, venomous.

"Is that how you greet an old friend, my lord?" Darven asked, mockingly.

"You're no friend of mine," Sebastian replied lazily, taking a seat beside him.

"I heard the witches are building an army… I came to see for myself," Darven said, amused.

"And now that you're here, what do you see?"

"Not what I expected." Darven tilted his head.

"You look old and aged… without the grey hairs."

"You dare call your king old?" Sebastian smirked dryly.

"Not at all," Darven said with mock sincerity. "But there's something different about you." He leaned in. "Seems like you just let off some steam…"

His gaze shifted—to Zyla, descending the stairs gracefully, expression unreadable.

"Good evening, Lord Darven," Zyla said, bowing slightly. Her tone was respectful—but cold.

"My lady… don't be so formal," Darven said, chuckling. He threw Sebastian a knowing glance.

"You look stunning in that dress, Zyla."

"Thank you, my lord. I'll be on my way now." She smiled tightly, and exited with practiced poise.

"I've found her," Sebastian said quietly ,after a long moment of silence.

"The one with the pure soul?!" Darven stared at him, stunned—as if he'd read the words from his mind.

"I'm marrying her soon," Sebastian added.

"She agreed to this?!" Darven's eyes widened.

"Does she know who you are?"

"She doesn't have to. She's mine." Sebastian's voice was low, possessive.

Darven let out a laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

"I know she's yours. But this is the 21st century, brother. You've got to play the game. Make her fall for you. Win her over. You don't want to terrify the poor girl, do you?"

"Love… it's just a word humans use to deceive each other," Sebastian said, his tone bitter. "I don't believe in that shit. All she needs to do is give me heirs—more of my kind."

He looked away, jaw tightening.

"She can't turn me down… even if she wants to."