Xylara's POV
The royal chamber of the Succubi Queen had once been a sanctuary of indulgence and warmth. It was adorned with flowing silks, enchanted candles flickering with hues of red and violet, and the soothing scent of jasmine and emberroot. But now, it was a cold, unfeeling place—a reflection of the woman who ruled it.
Xylara sat alone on her throne, her crimson eyes devoid of life as she absently swirled a goblet of wine between her fingers. She barely tasted it anymore. Nothing had flavor. Nothing had meaning.
Her daughter was gone.
Her hands clenched the goblet, and a memory flickered through her mind—unbidden, unwanted.
---
Six Years Ago—The Night Vynessa Vanished
The palace was in chaos. The grand halls, usually filled with seductive laughter and murmurs of pleasure, were instead drowned in the desperate voices of servants and guards.
"Search every corner of the kingdom!" Xylara had commanded, her voice raw with something she barely recognized—fear. "I don't care if you have to tear apart every home, every alley—find her!"
"Y-Your Majesty…" One of the advisors, a tall incubus with silver horns, hesitated. "Her presence is… gone."
Xylara turned to him slowly, her gaze sharp enough to slice through steel. "What do you mean—gone?"
The incubus visibly flinched. "I mean… it's as if Princess Vynessa no longer exists."
A suffocating silence fell over the throne room.
For the first time in her long reign, Xylara felt a coldness seep into her bones.
Her connection with her daughter—one that should have been eternal—had been severed.
It made no sense. Even if Vynessa had died, her lifeforce should have left a trace. But there was nothing.
She staggered back, her legs refusing to hold her weight. "No…"
Michael caught her before she could fall. His hands were strong, steady—but she could feel his own fear shaking beneath the surface.
"We will find her," he swore, pressing his forehead against hers. "I will scour every plane of existence if I have to."
But even as he spoke, she knew the truth.
Vynessa was gone.
---
Xylara exhaled, letting the memory wash over her and fade like mist. She had replayed that night a thousand times, hoping for some clue, some detail she might have missed.
She had searched.
Michael had searched.
But months passed. Then years.
And with each passing day, something inside her withered.
Michael, in his grief, had tried to hold on to her, but she had pulled away. Her pain had turned into something unrecognizable—something cold, ruthless, unfeeling.
"You need to move on," Michael had told her one night, desperation lining his voice.
"Move on?" She had laughed, but there was no humor in it. "From our daughter?"
"From the pain," he had corrected, his wings drooping in exhaustion. "I can't… I can't keep watching you become someone you're not, Xylara."
"Then don't."
The words had left her lips before she could stop them. And she had meant them.
Michael had watched her for a long moment before he gave a weary sigh.
Two days later, he was gone.
At first, she thought he had simply gone to clear his mind. But then the rumors spread.
Michael had returned to the Angelic Realm.
He had married.
And worse? He had a child.
Xylara shattered the goblet in her grip. Wine dripped down her fingers like blood, staining the velvet of her dress.
Michael had abandoned her. Abandoned Vynessa.
It was as if they had been a mistake he needed to erase.
Her grief had been a blade that cut deep, but her rage? It had reforged her into something else.
The world no longer knew the warmth of the Desire Kingdom Queen.
Only her cold, emotionless rule.
---
Present
A knock at her chamber door shattered the silence.
"Enter," she said flatly.
A succubus noble stepped inside, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, there has been… a development."
She arched a delicate brow. "Speak."
The noble hesitated, as if unsure of how to phrase it. "Our seers have detected an anomaly beyond the kingdom's borders."
Xylara said nothing, waiting for him to continue.
"A life signature," he clarified. "A presence that was once erased… has returned."
For the first time in years, Xylara's heart skipped a beat.
Her grip on the armrest tightened. "Where?"
"Far beyond our reach," he admitted. "Somewhere deep within the Dark Forest."
The Dark Forest.
A place that swallowed even the most powerful beings whole.
No one entered it and returned.
Which meant…
Her fingers trembled.
Had her daughter been there all this time?
She stood abruptly, the sudden movement causing the noble to step back.
"Summon the high council," she commanded. "Now."
The noble bowed and hurried out, leaving Xylara alone with her thoughts.
For the first time in six years, a flame of something foreign—something dangerous—flickered within her.
Hope.
Vynessa might be alive.
And if she was—
Xylara would burn the world to the ground to bring her home.
---
Lycius's POV
The Desire Kingdom was unlike anything Lycius had ever seen.
The vast city pulsed with an otherworldly glow, imbued with rich hues of deep crimson, velvety purples, and shimmering gold. The streets were lined with grand buildings sculpted from enchanted obsidian and adorned with intricate carvings of demonic artistry. Silken banners fluttered in the wind, exuding faint pheromonal magic that created an air of irresistible allure.
Despite being the heart of the Succubi and Incubi, the city was not exclusively theirs. Other demonic races mingled freely—shadowkin merchants selling enchanted goods, oni warriors clad in traditional armor, and even feline beastfolk lounging atop marble structures, their tails lazily swaying.
Lycius walked slightly ahead, his crimson-gold eyes gleaming with unfiltered curiosity. He studied everything—the structure of the roads, the way the magic lights illuminated the pathways, the harmony of different demon races existing together. It was… strange. The outside world had a different order than what he was used to in the forest.
"I can hear your thoughts buzzing," Vynessa sighed, floating beside him as she crossed her arms. "Are you really that fascinated by roads?"
"Yes," Lycius replied without hesitation. He extended his hand, running his fingers along the enchanted stones of a nearby building. "This world has a structure… something different from the raw chaos of the wilds."
Vynessa rolled her eyes. "You're such a nerd."
Lycius shot her a sideways glance. "Says the girl who spends hours meditating while glowing like a miniature sun."
"Tch."
Lana and Elizabeth, walking slightly behind them, chuckled at their antics.
"I suppose it was a good idea to bring them here before we begin reclaiming the kingdom," Elizabeth murmured.
Lana smirked. "I just wanted them to have some fun. You and I both know they've been training non-stop for six years. This is the least we could do for them before our hands are tied with political affairs."
Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "Though, it seems they are the main attraction of the day."
Indeed, all eyes were on them.
It wasn't just the rarity of seeing DragonBorns that drew attention—though that alone would have been enough. It was the sheer presence the four exuded.
They were divine figures walking amongst mortals.
Lana's imposing yet mesmerizing beauty made heads turn instantly, her very existence commanding respect and desire. Elizabeth radiated an ethereal elegance, her presence like that of an untouchable celestial queen. Lycius, with his sculpted yet youthful features, carried an air of wild, unrestrained power that contrasted with the refined grace of his mother and aunt.
But it was Vynessa who drew the most attention.
Not just because of her beauty, though she was undeniably stunning.
But because she looked eerily familiar.
Whispers spread through the streets like wildfire.
"She looks just like—"
"No… it couldn't be."
"The lost Princess…?"
"Impossible. She's been gone for six years."
Unaware of the stares, Vynessa was too busy bickering with Lycius as they wandered the city. However, when they turned a corner, she suddenly stopped mid-step.
Her body stiffened. Her eyes widened.
Before her stood an enormous statue of herself.
A perfect sculpture of a four-year-old Vynessa, immortalized in smooth obsidian and posed with delicate hands folded before her, as if welcoming the people. At the base of the statue, an engraved plaque read:
"Our Eternal Star—Princess Vynessa."
"… What," Vynessa deadpanned.
Lycius blinked. Then slowly turned to face her with a smirk. "I thought you said they hated you."
"They do."
Lycius gestured toward the monumental tribute standing before them. "Yeah, sure. This totally screams hatred."
Vynessa's brows twitched. "… They're just crazy."
"Oh, clearly." Lycius nodded mockingly. "Because when I hate someone, I make sure to build statues of them and dedicate national holidays in their honor."
Vynessa groaned, rubbing her temples. "They're delusional."
Lycius snorted. "Oh? Then why do they look like they want to cry just looking at you?"
Indeed, a small crowd had gathered. Their gazes were filled with something raw—something that made Vynessa uncomfortable.
Reverence.
Devotion.
Love.
Some clutched their hands over their mouths, while others whispered in choked voices.
"She's really alive…"
"… We never lost her."
A small succubus child suddenly broke free from the crowd and rushed forward. She couldn't have been older than five. Tears welled in her green eyes as she clutched a tiny, hand-carved figurine of Vynessa—a replica of the very statue before them.
"P-Princess…" The child's voice trembled as she held out the figurine. "We… We missed you."
Vynessa took an unconscious step back. Her throat felt tight.
"I… I don't…"
Lana stepped in then, placing a warm yet firm hand on Vynessa's shoulder. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk, her crimson eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something far more cunning.
"Don't rush it. You'll have enough time after our conquest."
The words were laced with both reassurance and a quiet, dangerous promise. This wasn't just a return. It was a reclamation.
Vynessa swallowed hard, unable to respond.
Lycius, sensing her emotions twisting into a storm, quietly took her hand in his own.
She squeezed it.
Hard.
For once, Lycius didn't tease.
He simply held on.
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