Angel of my Dark Heart [Last Days 1.5]

Chapter 10

"Grand duchess." Tara corrected. "Father is the one with the title of crown high prince."

Marcus laughed halfheartedly but she ignored him to face her father.

"Just spit out what you want and go, dad," the witch said in a tired voice, pulling Marcus away from the crown prince of Hell.

"It's time you stop fooling around in the mortal world and come back home, r'graití." The demonic royal spoke in a soft tone, which clashed with his fearsome physical appearance. "Humanity is on the brink of destruction now that the first seal is broken. You'll be safer in Hell."

The previous anger melted from Tara's face as it was replaced by surprise. If her father's words were true that meant...

She turned back to Marcus and her bright red eyes welled up with crystalline tears as her clawed, white hand reached up to cup his cheek.

"What did he mean, Tary? Why are you crying?" Marcus whispered, putting a hand over hers on his cheek. "Does this have to do with me summoning him?"

She shook her head and the tears spilled down her cheeks. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm crying because if dad is right, the biblical apocalypse has begun."

His chocolate eyes went wide and the hand holding hers fell limp to his side. He stepped back, widening the distance between them until her clawed fingers no longer touched his skin. Tara's face twisted in pain as if he had plunged a knife in her heart, but he needed the space, he needed to breathe. The news were just too much.

Judgement Day was coming.

The phrase was no longer the ramblings of beggars or lunatics on the street, it was real, as real as the demons in front of him.

Marcus' knees shook and before his brain could process what was happening, his legs buckled under his weight, sending him ass first to the ground. Somehow, the shirt around his waist loosened, giving a front row view of his soft dick to his girlfriend and her father.

Turning lobster red, Marcus rushed to cover himself with the shirt once again. Why were things like this always happening to him? Was making a fool of himself his only purpose in life?

From behind Tara, the demon crown prince sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose with his clawed fingers. "I'm tired of seeing your body, mortal. You're not my type," he sneered at the same time that he snapped his fingers and clothes instantly covered his daughter's human boy toy. "Now you're decent enough to be in my presence."

The arrogance in that statement made Marcus' blood boil. The fucking bastard was looking down on him again.

Marcus glanced down at his body to find himself dressed in black slacks with a matching long-sleeved shirt and a brown silk vest with thin golden lines. Complimenting the devil's taste in his mind, he stood up before arching a dark eyebrow at the demon. "You didn't mention I had to have a dress code when we made our deal."

The dark creature chuckled, and his lips curved in an evil smile. "Are you angry, little man?" he asked with a gleam in his golden streaked white irises as he unleashed half of his dark aura.

The prince had to give the half-foot shorter male credit, though. Even under the effects of a high demon lord's aura, the human's pupils dilated, sweat started to gather on his brow and he fell over one knee, but his gaze never wavered away from the darkspawn's.

"I like you, mortal. You're fierce when you need to be, now I see why my bastard half brother keeps you around." The demon crown prince laughed out loud, chilling the forest, and bringing utter silence to the nature around them. But at the look of utter bewilderment on Marcus' face he continued with wicked glee, "You didn't know? Vergil Larsa is..."