Deming soared across the sky, his black robes billowing in the wind. A gentle breeze caressed his face, tousling his straight, silky hair. He had long imagined this moment—reuniting with the sunlight's warmth and the wind on his skin. It had been an eternity since he last tasted such freedom, and the distant horizon beckoned him back to his home.
Astara, a realm where mountains reached the sky, surrounded the land like a protective cloak. At the heart of Middle Astara stood a city far more advanced than any other, where history, culture, art, and academia thrived. The grand palace served as the city's crown jewel, its stone walls adorned with stunning carvings portraying the culture and artistry of the Astaran people.
Approaching the palace gates, childhood memories flooded his mind, urging him toward the grand throne room, where his sworn enemy awaited.
The massive doors swung open, and Deming stepped inside, dominating the hall. The Astaran Supreme and the council gaped as the boy they remembered from his youth had matured into a tall adult.
Murmurs filled the chamber. One council member whispered to another, "Isn't that Prince Feng Deming? Wasn't he declared dead?"
Deming's malicious gaze landed on the king's, driven by a thirst for revenge. "Former lieutenant and servant of my father... how dare you sit on my throne!" he taunted in a fierce, deep voice, burning with rage in his glare. "You parasite... You sold me to the faeries as a slave. You disgust me."
Gasps and cries of outrage echoed throughout the throne room. The once-mighty King of Kings shifted, his eyes darting around the room. His composure crumbled as he struggled to comprehend how Deming's escape had occurred.
"What? Did you truly believe I would remain imprisoned forever?" Deming summoned forth a raven-black sword with a sinister aura.
The king attempted to regain control. "These accusations are nonsense! If anyone is breaking the law, it is you, entering my palace uninvited... GUARDS!"
"I made you a promise that day, and as you are aware, I always honor my promises." Deming's gaze bore into the former lieutenant, causing bystanders to recoil in horror. "Your reign ends today, and I will ensure not a single statue is made in your likeness, nor will any Astaran speak your name again until you are forgotten..." he paused, holding his hand before him with indifference. "Also, why would I need permission to enter my own palace?"
The king's heart sank as he grasped the direness of his situation. With trembling hands, he drew his sword in a desperate attempt to defend himself. Yet, before he could raise his blade, Deming moved with lightning speed, striking before the king could lift his sword. With a swift blow, the prince shattered the king's defenses, leaving him gasping as his life force ebbed away.
Deming stood over the fallen ruler, his breath heavy with anger, and the council members fell to their knees.
~*~
Meilin had a spacious yet cozy dorm room. It had a king-sized bed in one corner, a desk against the wall, and a sizeable four-door closet. "All this space... is mine?" she mused, her voice trembling with excitement. She leaped onto the bed, laughing as she sank into the soft comforter.
After an hour of unpacking and adding personal touches, the room began to reflect her style. She hung the poster of her favorite champion on her wall—his well-defined muscles and intense eyes drawing her attention in an instant. The bold choice of decor brought life to the otherwise plain wall.
"It's good that it's near the green screen, so I can cover it when I need to pray," she mused, eyeing the swordsman's bare chest. "Can't have THAT distracting me."
A team member leaned against the doorframe, holding a colorful flyer. He took in the changes, which now resembled a girl's room. He focused on the poster she had just put up as she admired the champion. He observed her with a playful glint in his eyes, amused by her daring choice of decor.
"He seems like tough competition," a smooth, masculine voice remarked from behind her, causing her to jump.
Meilin spun around, her heart racing, to find Ningshun standing close, a teasing smile on his lips. "Oh! You scared me! What are you doing here?"
He eyed the poster. "Really? This is why you main him?" He raised an eyebrow. "I must say, I see the appeal. He's got the abs for it, I guess."
Scoffing, she rolled her eyes but could not help the smile tugging at her lips, matching his teasing tone. "It's not my fault he's got great hair and... other qualities."
He chuckled, his tone hinting at playful sarcasm. "I see. So that's your type, eh? Long hair and big swords?"
"Yup!" she crossed her arms with a grin. "If I'm going to stare at a character for hours while I play, he might as well be easy on the eyes."
"Fair enough." He flashed her a naughty smirk. "Just don't get too distracted staring at his... assets."
"No promises," she joked, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, Zayn is a great champion... What, you don't think he's cool?"
Ningshun pretended to consider it, his gaze drifting back to the poster. "Your crush definitely has a... unique style. I'll give him that."
"Crush? I don't have a crush. It's called appreciation, thank you very much." Meilin caught his smug expression. "What? Should I put up a poster of you too?"
"Only if you want the room to be unbearably handsome. You'd have to charge admission," he replied with a wink.
"Ha! Keep dreaming. Arrogant Chads like you aren't even my type!"
He gasped and clutched his heart, pretending to be wounded. "Ouch! You sure know how to hurt a man's ego, don't you?"
"I call it tough love." She chuckled, her tension melting away.
"I like the confidence." His eyes stayed on hers a moment longer, and a rush of warmth came over her from the way he held her gaze.
She averted her gaze as if trying to survive a lion's den, her eyes landing on the colorful paper in his hand. She had glimpsed it earlier but had not paid much attention. "What's that?" She pointed to the flyer, her brows drawing together with intrigue.
Ningshun glanced down at the flyer, remembering why he had come to her room in the first place. "Oh, that's right... Here, I almost forgot." He handed it to her.
Meilin's eyes lit up like a child's at the sight of the various pizzas. "We're having pizza?" her voice bubbled with excitement. "This day just keeps getting better!"
'That's all it takes? Cute.' He noted her reaction, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "So, Princess, care to tell me your favor—"
"I want them all!" Her eyes lit up like fireworks.
Rendered speechless, he blinked. "You... want all of them?" His skepticism gave way to a broader smile. "I mean, it's a lot of pizzas. How do you plan to eat all that?"
"I don't. I just want to try a slice of everything. I've never had pizza from this place before, so I need to figure out which one's my favorite."
He chuckled. "Sounds like a plan."
"By the way, did I hear you call me 'Princess' just now?" Meilin quipped, cocking an eyebrow. Her eyes dared him to deny it, lips curving into a sly smile.
Ningshun gave a sheepish grin, heat rising in his cheeks as he cleared his throat. "What's wrong with that, Princess?"
Her smirk grew, enjoying the way he appeared flustered. "That's so cheesy."
He chuckled, pretending to take notes like a waiter. "No extra cheese on your pizza. Got it. Anything else, miss?"
"Ew, stop..." She rolled her eyes with a playful expression, her smile widening. "I'll start calling you worse things if you don't stop that."
"Bring it on," he shot back, his voice smooth and full of confidence, but his gaze never left hers. He appeared to be daring her to step closer, even though his heart raced a little. "Call me whatever you want."
"You're so annoying!" Her jaw dropped at his audacity. "Are you done? Can I get the flyer now?"
"Oh, you want this?" Ningshun wiggled the flyer above her head.
Meilin suddenly gripped his upper arms, pulling them down and catching him off guard. He almost tripped, but reflex kicked in. As he caught himself, his hands slammed against the wall behind her, and his body pinned her in place between the strong arms.
This sudden proximity stunned her like an electric shock—intense, even exciting. There was no way to describe the feeling burning inside her from the moment their bodies almost touched. He gave her space, but it only made their moment stronger, as if the separation teased her for a touch that felt just out of reach, and yet so close. She could sense the power in his arms, how taut they were, and how full the moment felt.
She could feel his breath, hot and shallow, brushing against her neck. He raised his head, and as his gaze clashed with hers, she caught her breath in the thrill of closeness that raced down her nerves. The way he smelled was dark and masculine, and it was overdriving her heart. His irises were the color of mint-green, that raw look in his eyes—a stare so intent on hers that he practically looked through her.
Ningshun felt his throat constrict, and he swallowed—hard. His voice came out low and rough, barely above a rasp. "I, uh... Is this what you do to your poster every night?"
"Mhm... she stuttered, hardly able to raise her voice above a whisper.
To them, the room's temperature had risen several degrees. Struggling to focus, his arms trembled, his visible veins pulsing beneath his skin as he held his position. He fought for calm and kept his gaze moving from her lips back to her eyes, but the nearness made it difficult.
"Wow..." she whispered. 'He's even more beautiful up close...'
His pulse quickened, and his shallow breaths became more uneven. The closeness unsettled him, and his cheeks grew warm as he fought against the onslaught of feelings. He did not move, his hands still on the wall, closing her off in a way that made this place too intimate for teammates. "Meilin... you good?"
"Yeah..." she breathed, struggling to find her voice since the way he gazed at her made her heart beat faster. With their faces mere inches apart, the heat radiating off his body caused a shiver to race up her spine. "Sorry, I, uh, yeah." This seemed so different, though—for some reason, she could not focus on anything but the way his eyes studied her face, as if he memorized every detail.
"Right. Well, I should get going," Ningshun's whisper strained as he took a slow step back, his eyes never leaving hers. "Enjoy unpacking, and I'll catch you later." He turned to go, but not without throwing one last glance her way over his shoulder, the intensity in his eyes washing over her for a second before he turned away.
Meilin's heart pounded in her chest as she followed him with her gaze. Her skin retained the warmth from his body and the raw power of his presence. "What... did I do?" She had no idea that the moment he stepped into her room would go from teasing to both of them nearly gasping for breath. She brought her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. She felt heat wash across her cheeks as her eyes remained glued to the doorway he had just left. "Oh, my God... Oh, God."
Her mind started to spiral with thoughts of what he would think of her after that intense moment between them and the fear that she had crossed a line he could never overlook.
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Demon King's Love - Copyright © 2023 by Aurora Luxi. All Rights Reserved.