--
"What was that about?" Hazel asked?
"What?" He feigned innocence.
"You told me I wouldn't have to worry about making a baby anytime soon," Hazel glared.
"You wanted to kiss up to them, what better way to do that than to give them an heir?" He smirked.
"You caught up to my plan," She stated.
"I could hear your heartbeat racing through out, of course I caught up to it," He said, "it's normally in cases like this I wonder what you must be thinking,"
Hades walked ahead while I stood there watching his departing back. "You look gorgeous by the way," He veered around to me scanning me from head to toe before walking away.
---
The ballroom of the Hellfire Citadel shimmered in muted gold and obsidian, flames from enchanted sconces licking high toward the vaulted ceilings. Demons, vampires, witches, and creatures Hazel couldn't name moved like predators in a hunt, adorned in their finest, eyes gleaming, watching her.
At the top of the marble stairs, Hazel stood still.
She wore the same midnight-blue dress, now refined — Miriam had stitched a thin silver chain that looped delicately from shoulder to shoulder across her exposed collarbones, hinting at regality. Her silver hair was gathered high with soft curls framing her cheekbones, and her lips were stained a deep, wine-red.
A hush rippled through the room.
They stared.
She descended slowly.
Her steps were measured, shoulders poised like she'd ruled these halls all her life. There was an awkward silence but she wore the silence like a crown.
She stood beside Hades. He's in dark finery, glowing slightly with infernal power, and Hazel is beside him in a modern gown that stuns everyone into silence.
He raises a chalice forged from black obsidian and gold, his voice deep and echoing through the hall, laced with quiet threat and pride.
"Silence."
The murmurs fade instantly and the music screeched to a halt.
"I would like to welcome someone special into our Kingdom," He turns to Hazel, and though his face remains calm, his voice dips to something deeper — almost reverent.
> "It is no rumor that I'm now bonded with a mortal bride. This is Hazel of Aetheria... now Hazel of Hellfire Citadel."
He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink into the room like a hammer.
"She is not a guest. Not a political pawn. No longer something any of you may touch without losing your hands—or your heads."
His eyes scan the room slowly—deliberately. The demons know better than to challenge his claim, but the Kings of the other regions however, they might be a handful, so his words were directly targeted to them.
"From this moment forward, you will bow to her. You will address her as Queen, for that is what she is — my Queen. Chosen by my will."
He raises his glass toward her, voice lowering in a way that only the most daring would describe as possessive.
Hazel lifts her goblet delicately, her fingers wrapped in sheer black lace gloves. She doesn't look at the crowd—she looks only at Hades, her silver hair shimmering under the firelight, her silver eyes glowing with mischief.
"To my King..." She pauses, letting the silence stretch until it sings with tension. "...who burns hotter than Hell itself but still hasn't managed to set me on fire."
A ripple of nervous laughter spreads. The mistresses stiffen. A few warlords snort. Hades arches a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching in dark amusement.
Then Hazel turns to face the room fully for the first time, voice smooth as silk and sharp as a dagger.
"And to the rest of you... who may want my crown, my throne... or my man."
She leans forward just slightly, her smile razor-sharp as she glared at the mistresses who also glared at her.
"Try it. I could use the entertainment."
She takes a slow sip, unbothered. The flames behind her flare just a little—whether from her or Hades, no one can quite tell.
---
Meanwhile, in the corner of the ballroom…
Three women observed with barely concealed venom. They were stunning, no doubt — otherworldly beauty shaped to seduce and destroy.
Lysa, the succubus draped in molten crimson silk, scoffed.
"I thought the humans were fragile," she murmured, her voice syrupy and bitter. "Not this... arrogant."
Beside her, Velia, the raven-haired serpent courtesan, narrowed her snake-like eyes. "She thinks she untouchable because she's the Queen of the Citadel and has the King's vow by her side?"
The third, Nyra — the syren demon — clinked her jeweled goblet with a sharp nail. "I give her a week before she flees back to the mortal realm, tail tucked between her legs."
Lysa tilted her head. "Or before someone arranges... an accident."
The three women shared a predatory smile.
---
The ball was a whirl of glances, music, and hidden tensions. Hazel had just finished dancing with King Ares — who, unsurprisingly, made no effort to hide his admiration — when Miriam whispered something urgent.
"Your Majesty," she said gently, "Three of the King's… companions are requesting a word. In private."
Hazel raised a brow. "Companions?"
"His mistresses," Miriam clarified with a wince. "They're waiting by the black garden archway."
Hazel's smile barely touched her lips. "Lovely. I could use some fresh air."
"Let me accompany you, those demons are sly and cunning," Ares stated.
"Thanks but an sure I can handle it," She sighed, "This isn't the first time I've been in a situation like this,"
She was going to handle this like Ariana would, this time she was definitely not going to hold back. They've been disturbing her peace for a while now without her retaliating, it was time she showed them whose boss.
---
Moonlight cast silver streaks over the black roses curling along the arches. The air was thick with floral smoke and quiet hostility.
Hazel found them waiting like statues. Lysa, Velia, and Nyra stood in a perfect triangle—gorgeous, deadly, and furious that they'd been dethroned by a human in heels.
"Well," Hazel said softly, folding her hands before her. "I see the welcoming committee didn't get the memo about flowers or gifts."
Lysa sneered. "We didn't come to flatter you."
"Oh, thank the gods. I was starting to worry you were going to fawn." Hazel tilted her head, silver strands catching the moonlight. "So what's this? Intimidation? Jealous mistresses? The cliché is adorable."
Velia stepped forward, her voice sharp. "You don't belong here, little mortal. Hades is only intrigued because you're new. But that novelty fades fast."
"And what happens then?" Hazel asked, pretending to examine her fingernails. "You all rotate back into the line-up?"
Nyra hissed, "Watch your tongue, girl. You may be Queen now, but the Citadel is built on blood and power. Neither of which you seem to possess."
Hazel stepped closer, unflinching. "You're right. I don't have claws or fangs or the ability to make a man beg with just a glance—" she leaned in just slightly, voice dropping, "but funny enough, I have him. And that must sting."
Lysa's expression twisted.
Hazel turned, slowly pacing between them. "Tell me something. When Hades was with you, did he ever listen when you spoke? Did he ever stop mid-conversation just to stare like he was trying to figure out what you were made of?"
Silence.
"Did he ever look like he'd burn the world to the ground if someone touched you without your permission?"
Still nothing.
Hazel smiled, sugar and steel.
"No? Hm. Then perhaps the issue isn't me—it's that none of you were quite enough."
Velia's eyes burned crimson.
Lysa bared her sharp teeth.
But Hazel only stepped back and smirked. "Enjoy the ball, ladies. And don't worry... if I get bored of Hades, maybe I'll throw him back to you."
She turned on her heel, silver hair sweeping behind her like a comet tail, and strode away before any of them could recover.
She wished what she had said was true but they'd never know since they can't read her mind.
---
Later That Night – Hades' Private Chambers
The doors to his chamber creaked open. Hades was standing at the window, his long coat draped over a chair. He didn't look at her when she entered, but he had heard her. He always did.
Hazel stepped inside, arms crossed. "Did you send them after me?"
Hades turned then, his face unreadable. "Who?"
"Your fan club. Succubus, snake, something else with too much perfume. They cornered me in the garden. Tried to mark their territory."
His jaw twitched. "And?"
"I left them speechless," she said, voice cool.
A flicker of pride—real, unmistakable—passed through his eyes.
"You didn't scream, cry, or turn back?"
"I told them they weren't enough. Then I walked away. Obviously."
He moved toward her slowly, his gaze burning into her like coals.
"Hazel," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "you're playing a dangerous game."
The way he called that name, it sent chills down her spine, and the tingling sensation that came with it.
"Then deal me in."
He stopped right in front of her. "They'll hate you for this." He whispered, so close to me, that I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent that turned me on so much.
"I'm counting on it."
"You're supposed to be the scared mortal girl." He lifted my chin with his finger, our faces inches apart.
"I was," she said. "Now I'm something else."
There was a long pause.
Then, softly, Hades asked, "What are you, Hazel?"
She stared up at him, her lips curved in a mysterious smile.
"I'm the storm you never saw coming."