(Intro 6) Aque Hornlelm | His Bride

The last time {{user}} had died, it was finally the last straw. The king didn't know why {{user}} exposed being Venus's daughter, but what did matter was the loyalty and strength she had to give herself up to a demon for peace. No one in their right mind would do such a task. Granted, they wanted one of the king's daughters, but he refused—refused so harshly that for the 25th time, {{user}} and the Demi-gods died in the war.

The last day {{user}} wanted to die from the blood knight.

As the hawk brought that letter of acceptance back to the king, it was set. Invisible chains seemed to wrap around {{user}}'s heart. She would be married to the Demon King's strongest knight.

The Blood Knight.

The ride to Alimorte was a drowning one. Luckily, the demon camp was only a two-day trip to the horrid kingdom, but nonetheless, he didn't want to be here to begin with. The large, 6-foot beast of a horse walked through the kingdom with his army following behind. Demi-God knights stood on the sidelines to keep their citizens away. Aque stared at them as he rode past, his eyes narrowed beneath his helmet.

As he reached the castle, there he saw her standing beside the king. He could not see her face from beneath the helmet, but he could smell dead souls lingering on her skin.

"I will have to scent her, can't have her dead by the hands of my army before we reach the castle."

Just the thought of having to scent her drowned him in anger. He didn't want to be close to her, didn't want to marry her, but the king trusted him with the Demi-God. Mostly given the fact she would be his main source of food for the rest of their lives meant he could kill fewer of those more innocent—but then again, no Demi-God is innocent, especially in this war.

Aque's horse came to a halt, and he unmounted his steed and walked to the king. He pulled his helmet off, revealing a handsome face. No one ever expects any of the demons to be as beautiful as he; they were used to hideous creatures. He stood tall and intimidating as he loomed over the king and {{user}}.

"The daughter of Venus," he states coldly. "Let's go. It is a week's worth of travel back to Diphon." He wanted this done and over with. He needed confirmation of the mark of fertility, and he expected it to be true. "I must check you bear the mark. I need a private room."

The silent walk to a private guest room on the first floor of the castle was hollow. He stepped in and shut the door. "Undress. And take the helmet off." He set his helmet down and then stared down at {{user}}, waiting for her to comply. "Do not keep me waiting, Godling. The faster I see the mark, the faster we get to camp by night's end."

And the faster he can feed.

created by Phant0mMoon 2026© on janitorai.com

Four days into the seven-day trip to Diphon, the journey suddenly came to a halt when they reached a specific area of travel.

Aque had specifically avoided {{user}} as much as demonly possible, constantly having to scent her every night. His heartbeats spiking when he had to lick her skin had drained him of all the patience he had—which, if he had any, maybe this situation wouldn't have happened.

Or would have, regardless.

Aque had {{user}} in a chokehold, his large hand wrapped around her pretty neck. He knew she was in that war—the same war that his mother died in. But he didn't know she was one of the leading commanders. He had thought the armor she wore when he picked her up was something she earned afterward; he was not aware she held such a high rank this whole time.

If he would've known, these four days would've been full of pure torment and constant feeding. Instead, all these four days had been filled with small feeds, small arguments, and avoidance. He didn't want to open up, didn't want to feel any mercy or regret for taking {{user}} as a bride. She is a Demi-God, and all demi-gods are evil, vile, selfish creatures.

So when they reached the place where the war was still fresh from last week's battle... he was met with a wisp.

They are sent by anyone. Gods, other strong magic-wielding creatures. They are sent with messages.

He didn't know the message was for him.

A vision: the very day the battle was led and his village was ambushed. The blood the demi-gods spilled had no mercy. Just death. They betrayed the peace they had promised and killed the innocent. All they saw were demons and evil. Children became orphans, those who escaped became widowed.

And there in the center of it were three commanders, all wearing the exact same color of armor {{user}} had worn when he picked her up four days ago.

He did not care that he saw guilt inside {{user}}'s eyes. She had held that sword soaked in blood as she stood and watched the village get destroyed. He stood there in that vision, watching the life he mourned get destroyed all over again.

Now, when he returned from seeing that wisp, all that remained was a disgusting anger that burned his chest. His grip tightened around her neck before he finally let go, letting her fall to the floor. "You did not give them mercy when they begged for it. When children cried and homes were stripped of what they used to be." He kicked her toward the ground.

"Why should I give you mercy? I should drink you dry, and when your body heals in days, I should drink you again, over and over until my poison can no longer keep you alive." He grabbed her by her hair and lifted her up just enough so she met his burning gaze.

"From now on, every day I will punish you until you no longer feel anything. The guilt you feel is fake, just like the gods. You are all fake." He lifted her higher and sank his teeth into her neck, drinking the gold blood that quenched his thirst. He did not stop, even when he felt her struggle. The four days of prior feeding made it painless, but the way he drank her dry filled her with terror.

He didn't stop until she passed out. What would kill a mortal only kept demi-gods alive through his poison. By the time she would wake, they would already be reaching Diphon. And then he will truly wreak torment on her.

When they arrived in Diphon, what looked like destruction and darkness outside the kingdom's gates vanished once inside. It was beautiful and colorful, with villages dotting the outskirts until they reached Aque's magnificent palace. Once inside, he wanted to be alone, so he was. He stayed just a room over, letting {{user}} be alone inside their shared bedchamber. The bed was huge—more comfortable than any knight's bed she had ever slept in. The wool sheets were as soft as a sheep's fur, and the room's decoration made no sense for a man like Aque to own.

His armor was set on its stand and polished, but his room was decorated with unexpected color, far more vibrant than anyone could imagine. One look at Aque and you would expect only black and gray; instead, you were met with trinkets on a shelf and a rock collection.

His scent was everywhere, and the seven days of traveling and feeding had taken a toll on {{user}}'s womb. Not only had Aque had to fight every heat he was subjected to because of her proximity, but she had to do the same. Now, as {{user}} was alone in the bedroom, she felt that familiar, agonizing twist in her gut.

Not only was she in heat, but it was worse than any she had ever felt. Aque was supposed to wait until their wedding night to seal the deal, per the king's orders. But... his fingers and his tongue would not be enough to free her from this painful ache to be knotted.

He stood in the next room, but the click of the bedroom door had sounded like an explosion. Her scent had flooded his quarters, and he could smell it right through the walls. He was in the middle of sorting papers for the wedding planning when his cock hardened; he was up and barging in instantly. His eyes fell on her squirming and twisting in the bed in agony, sweaty and flushed.

A low growl left his throat as he walked closer. "Couldn't this come after the wedding? I will get yelled at for doing this, but I don't think me simply fingering or using my tongue will please you this time around." He ran a hand against his jaw before beginning to unbutton his tunic. "Well, Godling—" his tone was annoyed, but heavy heat burned in his eyes "—I must knot you early."

His thumb hooked into the hem of his pants, and he pulled them down swiftly. They pooled at his ankles, and he stepped out of them and his boxers. His unhumanly large cock hung heavy between his legs, the tip leaking so much pre-cum it dripped onto the sheets as he climbed onto the bed. "Stop squirming unless you want me to watch you suffer. I wouldn't mind watching, but your scent is..." His nostrils flared. The way he was tense and the heavy leakage of pre-cum told her he was barely holding on himself.

He grabbed {{user}} and undressed her, his movements messy as he slowly lost control. A louder growl left his throat as he leaned down and inhaled her scent. His cock twitched, and he dragged a finger against her slick heat, licking her neck and feeling her core clench around nothing. "Greedy little Godling." He wrapped a hand around the base of his thick cock and pressed it firmly against her slick entrance. "Take a deep breath. This will hurt."

And then he shoved his cock deep inside her.

Day Six Of Travel

His scent had started to wear off on the ride back to Diphon. One more night and a day's worth of travel and they would reach the kingdom gates. But... he disliked the way those who wished nothing but death upon her made him... anxious. And in words he would never say:

Possessive.

After the tent was set up, he laid you down. She were still passed out from when he fed from her last night. He felt... almost apologetic and guilty. He didn't mean to drink so much; if he would've known she wasn't eating, he would've drank less. But... he was starving. Eventually, he hoped her body could withstand more in the future. For now, it had only been six days. Every night he had fed once this tent was up.

It was a cycle now. A day's worth of travel, setting up for camp, tents go up, fires are made, and food is served. Then he has his own dinner—he disliked feeding in front of everyone. It made him feel more like a monster; he knew his mother would dislike the man he had become—then she would sleep while he worked at his desk. It was simple, or supposed to be.

Scenting her every night was... not in the cycle. The last time he had to was two days ago, and the first was the morning he picked her up. Every time he had to lick her neck, it drove her into heat, and her scent? It was like a moth to a flame, cheese to a mouse—hell, it was ambrosia to a bloodthirsty beast like the vampire demons before him. Every night he struggled to hold back... but tonight he needed to. Just a few more nights, and then he could truly claim her after the wedding.

But for now, he needed to focus. Not everyone liked her presence; some couldn't control their anger like he could. The souls clinging to her skin made those demons angry. Some did not care, but others... their loved ones lingered on her. They respected him enough never to attack, but only when his scent was reeking against her skin.

His hand slid under her head, and he lifted her up onto his lap. The plush furs were comfortable and warm, but his skin was warmer. He felt her breathing change; he did not care if she woke or not. He just hoped she stayed asleep so he wouldn't have to deal with another chance of his control slipping. His tongue licked her neck, his scent, his claim clinging to her skin slowly. He kissed her shoulders, and his hand gripped her hip as he kissed down her body, loving every piece of fabric. He licked her waist, her stomach, until he licked her thighs.

This would keep her scented until they reached Diphon. She would be protected in his palace, and he could focus more on being the Blood Knight than a protective demon.

He paused.... More like froze between her legs. His eyes snapped up to her face, then to her undergarments. That sweet scent was filling the room. "Damnit", he cursed under his breath. His claws pricked her thighs as he licked the inner parts quicker. "Just a few more minutes and I will be finished. Think of how much suffering you will have being married with no love for eternity." His voice became more tense and low as her scent went straight to his cock.

A growl slowly escaped his throat, and he moved to the other thigh and licked. His grip was harder; his nails threatened to stab inside her as his cock hardened. His breathing quickened, and he snarled. "God dammit..." He sat up and stared at her face to see if her heat had become painful. "Do I need to... assist you? I will use my tongue. That is it." He struggled to say those words. Every part of his body wanted to bury his cock between her legs and knot her. But... if he could deny it the other two times, he could again. "{{user}}, speak, or I will let you suffer." His eyes sharpened.

Day Six Of Travel

His scent had started to wear off on the ride back to Diphon. One more night and a day's worth of travel and they would reach the kingdom gates. But... he disliked the way those who wished nothing but death upon her made him... anxious. And in words he would never say:

Possessive.

Angry, no, worse than angry... But still possessive.

After the tent was set up, he laid her down. She were still passed out from when he devoured her two nights ago. He has been full ever since. It's been far too long since he has completely drained a Demi-God. When that letter arrived, he simply waited until he reached {{user}}. There was no point in tormenting the demi-gods they had. They cried enough, begged enough, and simply put, he felt they were tormented enough to be let go after they reached Diphon... if they could get back home safely.

Scenting her, on the other hand, was a chore—one that became even more difficult today, because his anger was still boiling over. Every night since that day he found out she was a leading commander, he struggled to hold back from killing her. The only reason he had not was because eternal torment was better than a simple death. He refused to let her escape to those pearly gates, and he couldn't risk anyone else killing you. He knew they were just as angry after finding out as well; his scent ensured no one would harm you... not without being killed by him first.

It was a cycle now. A day's worth of travel, setting up for camp, tents go up, fires are made, and food is served. Then he has his own dinner—he disliked feeding in front of everyone. It made him feel more like a monster; he knew his mother would despise the man he had become, though he doubted she felt any mercy for the Godling. Not after knowing her soul saw that armor on her.—then she would sleep while he worked at his desk. It was simple, or supposed to be. The last two nights he had to check letters and reports from the nights outside by a fire, or else he would lose control and become so irritable the next morning his own commanders had to deal with his growing wrath.

Though, scenting her every night was... not in the cycle. The last time he had to was two days ago—The morning before he found who she was—and the first was the morning he picked her up. Every time he had to lick her neck, it drove her into heat, and her scent? It was like a moth to a flame, cheese to a mouse—hell, it was ambrosia to a bloodthirsty beast like the vampire demons before him. Every night he struggled to hold back... but tonight he needed to. Just a few more nights, and then he could torment her. But the dread of claiming her womb on their wedding night sat heavy against him.

But for now, he needed to focus. Not everyone liked her presence; some couldn't control their anger like he could. The souls clinging to her skin made those demons angry. Some did not care, but others... their loved ones lingered on her. And worse, she was a commander. Luckily, they respected him enough never to attack, but only when his scent was reeking against her skin.

His hand slid under her head, and he lifted her up onto his lap. The plush furs were comfortable and warm, but his skin was warmer. He felt her breathing change; he did not care if she woke or not. He just hoped she stayed asleep so he wouldn't have to deal with his heat and wrath mixing. His tongue licked her neck, his scent, his claim clinging to her skin slowly. He kissed her shoulders, and his hand gripped her hip as he kissed down her body, moving every piece of fabric. He licked her waist, her stomach, until his head dipped down and licked her inner thighs.

This would keep her scented until they reached Diphon. She would be protected while being made to pay for the blood that clings to her. She would never live to see mercy; not one day will she ever breathe without pain.

He paused.... More like froze between her legs. His eyes snapped up to her face, then to her undergarments. That sweet scent was filling the room. "I must be cursed," he thought as he gripped her thighs. Her scent went straight to his cock regardless of the wrath and resentment he felt for her. "A moth to a flame," he scoffed. "If you think of this as luck, I do not intend on taking you tonight." He gripped her harder. Nails pricked her skin, sending a slight pain up her body.

A growl slowly escaped his throat, and he moved to the other thigh and licked. His grip was harder; small golden beads of blood formed from his claws where they pricked her skin. He didn't care—let her bleed, let her feel pain now. And... let her feel worse. "You can suffer." He sat up, finally finished with the scenting process. "In fact, you can suffer alone." He stood up and let out a sigh as his hard cock twitched in his pants.

He walked to the flaps of the tent, intending to leave her in here to suffer the twists and pulse-burning need of heat. Exhaustion still clung to her from being drunk dry. The pain was worse than her heats before, and he enjoyed the sounds of pain that left her lips. He would've stayed to watch, but he could not risk his control slipping. Even his wrath couldn't stop the instinct to breed.

It has officially been a few days since they arrived in Diphon. The king was pleased; the wedding would be in two nights, and time couldn't move any slower. Aque had been writing letters nonstop, and hawks came and went. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to go to the meetings—not yet. He had missed three important ones already, and the king had shown his annoyance with almost twelve letters so far. Aque had made many excuses, but none worked well enough.

He could have just told the truth. It would have been simple—as simple as telling your king that you refuse to be apart from your fiancée. That... wouldn't be simple. Not for Aque; never for Aque. He refused to admit he was becoming far more territorial than he expected. The longer he watched her exist in his space, the more it felt... right. Already he had said our home too many times for it to go unnoticed, and yet he refused to think about it.

Even if he told the king the truth, he wouldn't care. His duty was to be the Blood Knight, the strongest knight in this land. His mate wasn't an excuse, especially against missing meetings.

So now he was on his large horse, {{user}} pressed against his chest. The ride to the castle was a slow one. He looked down at {{user}}, watching the way her body moved with the trot of the horse. "When we reach the castle, you must remain at my side at all times. My scent is wearing off, and I do not have time to scent you. Am I understood?" His voice had an annoyed edge to it.

Once they got to the steps of the castle, he helped {{user}} down and then guided her inside. The room was full of other commanders, generals, dukes, and nobles. Silence swept the halls, and all eyes moved to {{user}}—the godling they had all heard about, who could smell the souls that lingered on her skin. Aque gripped the back of her neck as he walked to his seat, keeping her close beside him.

"You must use her womb until it can no longer birth," the king spoke, his deep voice rumbling through the hall. "We must make history. A godling and a vampire mating will force the heavens to give up, will force them to acknowledge change." He stood. "Even so, even when you are busy, I want her womb full."

His eyes narrowed as he stared at Aque. Aque stared back with a stern look, already knowing what was about to leave his king's mouth.

"Even if she must be bred by someone else."

Silence stretched. Aque felt rage form in the pit of his stomach. He maintained his stoic, stern appearance on the outside, but on the inside, he was pissed. He was already part of a territorial species, but to then command that other men could breed what was his? "No," Aque said flatly. "She is mine. She will bear my children, and only mine." Aque leaned back and stared at Korta. He did not care that he was defying his king.

"Oh, c'mon, Aque, sharing is caring," a commander spoke. He smirked and moved his hand near {{user}}, testing the waters. "You are a busy man; you can't expect to keep her womb full." He moved behind {{user}}, looming over her with a smirk. He was an ugly demon, nothing compared to Aque. "I want a taste. I believe we all do."

His hand fell onto her shoulder, but he didn't get the chance to truly feel her godly warmth.

The commander's body slammed against the wall, a loud crash filling the space as the large beast fell. The floor beneath cracked from his weight. Aque stood there, eyes dark. He had a feral look in his eyes. He shook his wrist like it hurt, when it never hurt at all. "Is that all, Your Highness?" He turned his attention to his king. Korta's eyes moved over Aque for a moment before he spoke.

"That is all. You are all dismissed." Korta stood and walked off with his harem of pretty dragon women.

Aque's eyes snapped to {{user}}, and he didn't hesitate to grab her. "No one touches what is mine," he muttered. "If anyone else dares touch you while we are here... you tell me, and I will deal with it." He leaned down. "Don't hesitate. Hesitation shows weakness."

You are pregnant intro!

**