Chapter 20: Ashtaroth

"I 'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Trained, even!"

My little lamb is valiantly avoiding addressing my words in their entirety. No matter, her body truly does tell me everything I wish to know about her reactions.

"It's different now: my brother is missing, there are uncontrolled rifts to the mortal world, and entries to The Pits manifested." I do not know why I am trying to mimic her informal way of speaking, something that always irked me. Why should I care if she sees me as an ancient beast – I am one, after all.

"He's your brother?" she asks, surprised.

I wave my hand in negation. "Not in the physical sense. It is our relationship. It is hard to have a brother when you're created in a time before time."

Her mouth opens in an ‘o' as she ponders this. Adorable. I want to stretch her lips with my cock.

At that moment her stomach rumbles and I glare at it. Having her spread-eagle on my bed with my tongue between those luscious ass cheeks will have to wait. "I will see about arranging dinner," I say, instead of throwing her face down on the mattress. I can wait a while longer. "Meanwhile, you may wash the dust away." I gesture towards the bathroom, where I had a toilet added to the plumbing just days ago.

"There are clothes in that dresser." I point toward the dresser I had built for her, carvings of grazing sheep decorating the doors. I smile at the offended look she throws the pastoral scene. Deliciously predictable.

I need to leave before I fuck her to starvation. I find that I want to show my acquisition off to my court anyway. And let it be known she is not for them. "You have an hour," I say. Surely my staff can prepare a feast for the court in that amount of time if pressed? Not wasting any time, I will myself into the kitchen.

The exact time I have been here last is unknown to me; I gain no sustenance from food and I have underlings to arrange the feasts in my honor. The kitchen staff surely did not expect me to materialize into existence amid them and they panic, fumbling with cookware, making an ungodly amount of noise as it drops out of their hands.

"My… My Lord!" the head cook stutters. I vaguely remember taking him into servitude centuries ago.

"A feast for the court, ready in an hour," I clip.

"But… but… that's not possible," the cook squeals, the sound irritating me as much as his words.

I grab him by the neck and throw him at the wall, spices hung to dry knocking off it and landing on his unconscious form. Probably not the best move, if alacrity is what I am after. "Does anyone else wish to express objections?"

No one meets my searching gaze as they scatter to their stations and begin preparing. Good.

The food being taken care of, I will myself to my throne room next, intent on sending a guard to the servant's quarters to rouse them from whatever task they are engaged in so that they can prepare the dining room.

"Is that mostly-human here?" I hear my son's voice behind me. I turn and frown at him and Armaros, who is, as always, by his side. "Naamah told me what she's up to," Sariel says sheepishly.

Gossips. I pinch the bridge of my nose. "You are utterly unbearable."

"You really need to get with the times, Ash. Who wants to feel like they're fucking someone's great-grandfather?"

"I warned you to cease with that insulting diminutive," I growl.

He ignores me. "First, you should know some important words. Let's start with ‘creampie'."

Armaros slaps him upside the head, sparing me the effort. "I don't want to sleep in the dungeon again, dickwad," he growls at Sariel.

"Fine," my son mutters. "Can I meet her?" he then asks me, beaming.

Denying his request is on the tip of my tongue, but then I reconsider. "You may escort her to the dining hall," I say instead. "She is in my rooms."

His eyes narrow in suspicion. I did not choose an imbecile for a son. "I'm not going to fuck your… your… thing, Father," he insists coolly. "I will wait to seduce her until you're done with her."

"That would be a novel occurrence. Gather the court first," I instruct. "Armaros," I hail the other Fallen, "tell the servants to prepare the dining hall immediately."

They set out to carry out their tasks, Sariel still giving me disgruntled looks over his shoulder.

The chessboard has been set. Now to watch the pieces fall.