Page 50 of Sinful Obsession

Kaua cracks his knuckles, his grin feral. “Let’s give them something to remember.”

Nevan inclines his head, his calm demeanor betraying the storm that brews beneath. “Lead us, my queen.”

And Ewan, my constant, my Death, steps to my side. “Always.”

Together, we march forward, the portal’s energy surging around us. The walls of Briarwood buckle and crack, the building itself warping under the strain of the darkness that now consumes it. The sound of distant screams echoes through the halls, the remaining staff and patients caught in the storm of chaos.

As we move, the horsemen unleash their powers, each step a declaration of their dominion.

Vito’s influence is palpable. The few orderlies who dare to stand in our way turn on each other, their minds twisted by his will. They claw and fight, driven to madness by the force of his presence.

Kaua charges ahead, his movements a blur of violence. His fists connect with the walls, with doors, with anyone foolish enough to stand in his path. Each impact sends shockwaves rippling through the air, the very foundation of Briarwood trembling beneath his strength.

Nevan follows behind, his mere presence draining the life from everything around him. Plants wither, the air grows stale, and even the light seems to dim as he passes. The energy he exudes is suffocating, a quiet, relentless force that leaves only desolation in its wake.

And Ewan...

Ewan moves like a shadow, silent and deadly. His touch brings death, instant and absolute. The guards who try to stop us collapse without a sound, their bodies crumpling to the floor as the life drains from their eyes.

I watch them with pride, my heart swelling as I see the destruction we unleash together. This is what we were meant for. This is our destiny.

We reach the heart of Briarwood, the portal’s energy pulsing like a heartbeat. The air is thick with power, the scent of sulfur and ash filling my lungs.

Asmodeus steps through the portal, his form more terrifying and magnificent than ever. His eyes lock on mine, and for a moment, the chaos around us fades.

“You’ve done well, my queen,” he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers through me.

I smile, the power of Hell coursing through me. “It’s just the beginning.”

And together, we prepare to bring the world to its knees.

42 – Lilith

The air around us vibrates with the force of the portal’s power, its energy crashing against the walls like a relentless tide. Shadows twist and writhe in every corner, taking on forms both monstrous and beautiful, dancing in reverence for what is to come. The ground trembles beneath our feet, fissures spreading outward like veins of molten energy. I can feel the weight of eternity pressing down on me, heavy and intoxicating.

And then, through the portal, he steps into the mortal world.

Asmodeus.

His form is impossibly large, yet he seems to fill the room without crowding it, his presence all-consuming. He is cloaked in darkness, the edges of his form melting into the shadows like he is one with them. His features are both grotesque and beautiful, as if the very essence of his being refuses to settle on a single form. His skin gleams faintly with an otherworldly sheen, his eyes burning with an eternal, flickering fire. Hornscurve elegantly from his head, and his wings—vast and leathery—spread out behind him, casting the room in shadow.

He is magnificent. Terrifying. Perfect.

I cannot move. My chest tightens as I take him in, the air stolen from my lungs by his sheer presence. This is the true form of the being I’ve loved across lifetimes, the demon I’ve fought and bled for. And as his gaze falls on me, all-consuming and filled with something dark and pure, I feel my knees weaken.

The horsemen fall silent, their power subdued in the presence of their king. Kaua’s ever-present feral grin softens, his hands lowering as if to offer respect. Vito tilts his head, his smirk gone, replaced by a look of reverence. Nevan watches with a keen, calculating intensity, and even Ewan—my Death, so unyielding—lowers his gaze slightly, his respect evident.

But Asmodeus isn’t looking at them. He is looking atme.

“Lilith,” he says, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that fills the space and seeps into my bones. It is a voice that commands, that consumes, but when he speaks my name, it softens, becoming something almost gentle.

I cannot speak. My throat feels tight, my words caught somewhere between fear and awe. But I do not need to. Asmodeus moves toward me, his steps slow and deliberate, the ground shaking faintly with each one. The shadows seem to part for him, bowing in his wake, and the heat of his presence envelops me like a storm.

When he reaches me, he stops, towering over me yet making me feel as though I am the only thing that matters in this shattered world. His hand reaches out, clawed yet elegant, and he takes mine, his touch both cold and burning.

“You have freed me,” he says, his eyes locking onto mine. “You, my queen. My goddess. You defied Heaven and Hell to bring me here, to stand by my side once more.”

His words wrap around me like a caress, and I can feel the truth in them. The love. The devotion. It is overwhelming, consuming, but I do not flinch. I do not look away.

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