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Chapter Text

It was the end of another day for Beatrice. There was only the dim light from her lantern to let her see the last minute work she was finishing. She had almost completed embroidering the white flowers on the collar of a light blue dress for a woman in the nearby town. She was dead tired, but she was so close to finishing that she decided she would stay up just a little longer so that she could deliver the dress as soon as she woke up.

Finally she was finished. She cut the thread, neatly folded the dress, blew the light out of the lantern, and went to bed.

 In this realm of despair he reigned supreme.

For years he tirelessly trained to become stronger, engrossed himself in every book and archive that could lead him to ways to become powerful, and destroyed anyone and anything that stood in his way.

Then one day, at long last, he had done it. With the help of his brother, he exacted his revenge on the former king of the Demon World, slaughtering him and taking the throne for himself. From that day forward, his reign was feared by human and demon alike, and any fool who would dare challenge the unholy ruler, were mercilessly executed by his blade. Even uttering the very name “Vergil” struck fear amongst even the mighty.

But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. His brother may be content to waste his days among humans, but the demon king’s journey was far from over; he would never stop training, never stop searching, until the day he knew that no being could ever match him in power. He would not stop until even a god would surrender to his strength.

“Isn’t this the fifth time you’ve read that book?”

The demon king didn’t bother interrupting his reading; he knew his brother, Dante, was here again to pester him. “Trying to get the stick out of his ass,” as Dante crudely put it. And yet, no matter how many times Vergil rebuffed him, Dante returned time and time again. He did not know if his persistence was admirable, or detestable.

“Unless you have something important to tell me, I usually appreciate being uninterrupted,” Vergil finally replied. Dante strolled behind the stone bench his brother was sitting in and leaned his front against the back of the bench so he could see the contents of the book.

“I’m just saying I don’t think you’re going to learn anything that you haven’t learn after the third read through.”

“If you truly must know, I’m reading purely out of leisure. I was hoping to relax before the day had ended until you felt the need to join me.”

“Aw, c’mon, Verge, you know you love me.”

 “I would love it if you left me in peace.”

“Whatever. What’s so great about this book that makes you want to read it five times anyways?” He swiftly pulled the book from Vergil’s grasp and turned to the first page.

“Return it, Dante,” Vergil said as his hand reached for the hilt of his blade.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re gonna try to kill me over a book.” It was a common occurrence in the Demon World: one thing or another would lead to the brothers into an impromptu sparring match. Of course, they always ended in a draw; one or the other would either get bored, with the other admitting the same, or something would force one of them to leave before that happened.

“I’ll make sure you finally learn why you should leave me in peace.” Vergil gripped the hilt, ready to pull the blade from its scabbard, when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“I do hate to interrupt family bonding time,” the man in black said. “But I found something that I know will be of great interest to you, my lord.” Dante glanced over at the man, before tossing the book back on the bench.

“Well, you heard him,” he said. “Better get to that important business. My lord.” He gave a teasing smile at the last sentence. Vergil was tempted to strike his brother for that remark, but instead he released his sword.

“We will continue this later,” he said before leaving the courtyard.

“What have you found, V?” Vergil asked as he sat in his seat in front of the fireplace.

“Something very rare,” V replied. “An angel. On earth.” Vergil leaned forward, his elbow resting on his knee.

“An angel… how did you find it?”

“Well, to be precise, she is half angel. But she will be useful to you all the same. She lives in a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom of Fortuna. I know you do not enjoy visiting there, but I would highly recommend that you make the trip just this once.” He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a sheet of folded paper, handing it to Vergil. Vergil unfolded the paper and saw the face of a woman with long hair. “This is her. Her hair is brown and her eyes are hazel. Her name is Beatrice, though I suppose that doesn’t mean much to you. It seems as though despite being a young woman, she has not yet learned how to use any of her powers, which should make her power easy to harvest.”

“And you say a half angel will be suitable?”

“Absolutely.”

“I see… thank you, V, I will leave at nightfall.”

To call the village she lived in “small” would be an understatement; it was a hovel of a settlement with only a little over a hundred people living there. By this time of night everyone was sound asleep, with him the lone figure wandering the empty streets. Her home was somehow even more out of the way than the rest of the village, a small cottage that looked barely livable. He made simple work of the lock and silently entered.

Even with the limited furnishing the interior felt cramped. A table and chair was nestled in the corner to the left of him. Atop of it was a blue dress neatly folded, as well as a few small baskets of sewing supplies. He could smell the lingering scent of burning wood from the stove. A single plate and glass was left in the sink. A faded gray carpet lay in the center of the floor.

He approached the bed in the furthermost corner. He could see the rise and fall of her breathing as she slept. It was little wonder it took so long to find her; the strength of her power was so weak, barely traceable, that only the strongest of demons could detect it. But it was no obstacle to him; once her power was his, he would be able to use it to its full potential.

Slowly, he pulled the blanket off her form, her thin nightgown making her slender figure easy to see. He gently shifted her so that she was laying on her back and brushed her hair out of the way, the locks feeling soft as they slipped through his fingers. He admitted that even with V’s artistic mastery, the drawing did not do her beauty justice. Almost a shame that this would be the last time he would get to admire it…

He pulled Yamato from the scabbard, the blade singing as it was freed. He raised it above his head, the tip directly above her heart. It would be painless; all it would take is a single stab to the heart, and her power would be his. He gripped the hilt tighter, prepared to plunge the blade between her breasts…

“Damn it,” he cursed. He quickly returned the blade to its sheath. He pulled the blanket across her body and swiftly left the cottage, before he changed his mind.

Chapter Text

There was little variation in her schedule; she would wake up shortly after sunrise and eat breakfast. Then she would deliver any sewing work that she had completed. Sometimes it was embroidering dainty floral designs on delicate fabric. Other times it was sewing buttons on men’s shirts for the shop in the nearby town. Afterwards she would try to find more work by asking clothing shops if there was any work that the normal employees hadn’t yet finished. Sometimes regular customers would ask if her directly to put her skills to use. Once a week, she would visit the tiny church and pray before visiting a grave marked with a simple stone slab. After that, she would complete some shopping if it was needed. When she went home, she tended to her small herb garden. Occasionally, she would wander into the forest to harvest any wild vegetation. As the sun was setting, she would eat dinner and start working. Then when the day was over, she went to bed.

She was everything he despised about humans; she was weak and fragile, as though she would fall apart if someone didn’t take perfect care in handling her. Not only that, but she was meek and almost seemed to fear interacting with others, only doing so because it was necessary. It was as though she had to build up the courage to speak to someone. She avoided any sort of conflict, even immediately blaming herself and apologizing if something seemed to go wrong. She was horribly lonely, and yet she did nothing to change it. She embodied every weakness that humans possessed, and then some.

And yet here he was, gazing at her day after day through his window to the human world. How much time had it been? Two months? Three? He had lost track.

“How long have you been staring at her? It’s getting kinda creepy.” The demon king continued to gaze at the moving image in front of him.

“Want do you want, Dante?”

“Geez, bro, no need to be so cold.” Dante approached the image. Right now she was embroidering blue flowers onto one of a set of four white handkerchiefs, her movements precise and graceful. “She’s cute.”

“She’s pathetic.”

“Wow. Harsh.”

“She’s half angel. She has extraordinary powers that lay dormant because she’s not even aware she has them. All of that power is going to waste.”

“And yet here you are, stalking her when she doesn’t even know you exist.”

“I am in no mood to fight today, brother, but if you desire one so, I will be more than willing to grant you one.”

“All right, all right. Sheesh, you gotta calm that temper.” For once Dante was smart enough to walk away from a fight. It seemed he wasn’t in a mood to fight, either.

As much as he loathed to admit it, he was indeed enamored with her; it was true that she had every weakness a human possessed, if not more, and her ignorance towards her power frustrated him. And yet, as much as he tried, he could not bring himself to hate her, as did for the rest of humanity. Her shy nature only made him want to protect her, and her loneliness made him want to give her the love she so desperately craved.

Love? Loving someone else would mean someone else to protect, someone else whose blame would fall on him should they ever come in harm’s way, someone else to remind him how he failed. Love was weakness, love was pain… how could he love a woman who didn’t even know who he was?

Damn woman. Had he not known she was an angel, he would have thought she was a witch; how else could she have enchanted so?

“I’m afraid I won’t be needing those anymore; my husband bought some while he was in the city.”

“Well… you can have them for two gold crowns instead.”

“I said I won’t be needing those anymore; that’s my final word.”

“I… I see… I’m sorry, ma’am.”

Beatrice shut the door and leaned against the wall, dejected. She had worked on those handkerchiefs for nearly two weeks and they were supposed to sell for a whole four gold crowns, and now all this work had been for nothing.

“Hey, pretty lady, why the long face?” She turned her head and saw a man in a red jacket leaning against the lamppost across from her, his arms crossed and one leg folded so his foot was resting against the base. She was quick to notice his pure white hair. How unusual, she thought, though she daren’t say so aloud.

“Oh… you don’t need to worry. It’s nothing you could help me with.”

“Try me.”

“Well, it’s just that I was supposed to sell these.” She pulled the handkerchiefs from her basket. “But as soon as I got there, she said her husband already bought some and she wouldn’t be needing them anymore.”

“How much were you selling them for?”

“Four gold crowns.”

“I see… Well, how about I take them off your hands for twenty?” When she heard him say “twenty”, she thought she would faint.

“Sir, I… I couldn’t-“

“Look, I insist, and I’m not going to leave you alone until you accept.” He pulled out twenty glistening gold coins from his pocket.

“I… very well, sir, thank you.” She handed him the handkerchiefs, which he placed in his breast pocket, as he handed her the coins. “What is your name?”

“Dante. Yours?”

“Beatrice. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Do you live here?”

“Me? I’m just passing through, that’s all.” There was a slight pause, as though he was contemplating something. “You know, I’m real sorry, I’d love to talk more, but I need to get going right now.”

“Oh, no, please don’t apologize. When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know to be honest, but I promise I’ll make it soon.”

“Hey, bro. I can’t even remember the last time you actually wanted me to talk to you.” Vergil clenched his hands into fists, resisting every urge to hit his brother right then and there. How can he act as though this was supposed to some kind of pleasant get together, as though he couldn’t possibly imagine why he had been summoned here?

“Care to tell me why you took it upon yourself to meet with her?”

Dante tilted his head. “Who, Beatrice? I mean, why not? It’s not like you were going make a move on her any time soon.” Vergil hand reached for Yamato; he preferred not to fight indoors, but if this was the only way to teach his brother a lesson…

“I would not have guessed you had a death wish, brother.” Dante’s hands flew up; for as short of a temper that Vergil had, it was rare when he was this serious.

“Hey, you were the one that called her ‘pathetic’. If you feel that strongly about her, you shouldn’t be sending mixed signals. But I can take a hint. Anyways…” He pulled out the handkerchiefs and tossed them on the table. “I think you’d like these more than I would. And if there’s nothing else you need, I’ll be leaving; I wouldn’t want to bother you during your ‘alone time’.”

Vergil waited until he heard the door shut before picking up one of the handkerchiefs. The fabric was a delicate white cotton square bordered in a scallop pattern with white thread bound against the edges. In the bottom right and top left corner were embroidered blue forget-me-not blossoms, each of the five petals perfectly shaped and proportioned to one another. They were soft and delicate… like her…

“These are pretty.” He turned his head and saw Trish examining the remaining three handkerchiefs. “They’re hers, aren’t they? You haven’t harvested her power, yet you continue to watch her. What is it you want, exactly?”

The truth was, he didn’t know; he knew her power was being wasted on someone who didn’t even know it existed, and that the opportunity to harvest an angel’s power was rare enough, let alone when the angel couldn’t even use that power to fight back. And yet, no matter how many times he told himself to get it over and done with, that her blood being spilt was a small price to pay to gain more power, he could not bring himself to slaughter her.

Watching her day after day return to her lonely cottage made him want to hold her close to him, feel the rise and fall of her chest against his as he stroked her hair, giving her the love and desperately needed and deserved. He would kiss and caress her, knowing that she would be resistant at first, but he knew she would eventually embrace his touch. Her innocence was so endearing...

And oh, how innocent she was; she was a good little girl who went to church every week to pray, even when she knew the other churchgoers whispered about her when they thought she couldn’t hear them. She even offered a single bronze crown from her meager income every time she went, even though she should be one of the people taking advantage of the church’s generosity. She was, of course, a symbol of virtue among sin, unfailing kind to everyone she spoke to, even when they did not grant her the same kindness, and promising herself to only give her body to her husband… It wouldn’t surprise him if she never once had a lustful thought.

That maiden innocence that was so endearing was also what he wanted to break; he wanted to see that sweet face of hers contorted into pure, lustful pleasure as he thrust himself into her lithe, untouched body, her soft voice crying out desperately for him to bring her to her peak. He wanted her to scream out his name as he marked her womb with his seed, their bodies entwined and linked together as one. He wanted to send her into depths of sinful, carnal pleasure that she never would have dreamed existed.

And he wanted to be the only one.

“My lord?” Trish said after a moment of silence. Vergil turned towards her, the handkerchief clutched in his grip.

“I want her.”

Chapter Text

Beatrice pulled her nightgown over her head, preparing for the day to end. She had been grateful for the stranger, Dante, for buying her handkerchiefs for such a generous amount a few days ago, and she made sure to save one gold crown for the church’s donation box. She heard a few women gossiping about her as she left the church, saying that she probably got that money from finally deciding to sell her body, but she paid no mind to them; she happy she could finally contribute more to the church that had helped her as a child. She made sure to set aside a few gold crowns to finally fix the window that wouldn’t shut all the way before it got too cold outside and to stock up on more wood for the stove.

As she was getting ready to sit down at the table to take in the seams of a blouse, she was startled by a loud noise being pounded against the door. The sound repeating itself with the company of enraged shouts snapped her back to her senses. She quickly dove for the tattered carpet and was about to pull it away, but the crowd broke the door off of its weak hinges before she could.

Her shoulders were roughly grabbed, causing her to cry out in pain as her arms were gripped and wrists tied uncomfortably together with a coarse rope.

“Let me go!” she shouted, but the crowd acted as though they didn’t hear her. She was dragged out of her home and into the chilly night air. Her wrists felt as though they were being cut into as she was pulled. The only light source came from several people holding torches, the blaze illuminating the path. She was being dragged far away from her home and her village.

Eventually she saw that they were approaching a familiar sight. It was a small, stone building that had been long abandoned. She recognized it from when she learned about the history of the village: Inside the building was a stone alter, long enough for a human lay across. The Demon King, Mundas, would periodically demand the sacrifice of a human of pure body and soul, indicated by a demon mark painted in blood on the door, or else the entire village would fall to ash. When the Demon World was sealed by the great Sparda, there was peace for a short time before he was slain, and then the sacrifices continued. Then one day, when the village was bracing itself for the next sacrificial demand, there was none. And there had been none for over a century. Even so, a villager would be bestowed with the honor of checking the door to the altar every morning, a formality to remind the village to be thankful for the many years of peace.

But as Beatrice was being dragged towards the building, she saw in the torchlight the telltale sign marked on the door: An encircled five pointed star painted in dark crimson. When her sight met the mark, she had only ever felt this much panic in the moments before her mother died.

“Please, no!” she screamed. She used all of her strength to try to pull away right before they opened the door, but they give a swift tug on the rope and she fell to the ground, her face hitting the grass. She felt rough hands lift her into the building and place her face down on the cold altar. “Please, there must be another way!” Again, they acted as though she didn’t say a word. Soon the door closed and she was surrounded by darkness in the windowless building.

She said a silent prayer, trying her best not to cry. It was horrible enough that this would be how her life ended, but she hadn’t even reached her twentieth year; there were so many things she hadn’t yet done in life, and now she would never be able to any of them. The only comfort she had in these final moments was seeing her mother again. She prayed that her mother was waiting for her on the other side, and that whatever doom awaited her, it would be quick.

Just as she finished her prayer, she felt the intense pain in her wrists suddenly relieved. She was able to use her hands to sit herself up on the altar, which was so tall her feet couldn’t quite touch the ground. As she rubbed her wrists to soothe the lingering pain, the sconces in each corner of the room suddenly lit up. In front of her was a man dressed in all black, his leather jacket sleeveless over his vest and dark, mysterious sigils covering his skin.

“Are… are you the Demon King?” she finally asked. He shook his head.

“I’m afraid not,” he replied. “I am merely a humble servant of my lord Vergil. I am here to escort you to him. You may call me V.” He reached out his hand to her. After a brief moment of hesitation she took it before climbing off of the altar, the raven-haired man’s touch cold as ice.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, the altar began to push itself against the wall. She could feel the friction of the bottom of it forcing itself across the floor beneath her feet. When the altar could be pushed no more, Beatrice looked down and saw a staircase so long she could not see the bottom of it; there was only darkness as far as she could see.

“Better keep hold of my hand,” V said. “It is a steep descent and your eyes will not be able to see for some time.” He slowly guided her down the stairs, her grasp on his hand not faltering for even a moment. After a few steps she couldn’t even see V right in front of her, which caused her to hold on to his hand tighter. She was, at least, grateful that he wasn’t looking back at her; it was embarrassing to have a strange man look at her while she was wearing something made of such thin material.

After a few minutes her eyes were greeted by moonlight. But she did not feel any more at ease; as chilly as the air was earlier, the air of where she was now felt as though it froze her to the bone. The soil beneath her feet was dark and lifeless, and the landscape was littered with black, barren trees twisted in such a way that almost looked painful. They crossed a small bridge that was suspended over a river whose contents looked as though it would swallow up anyone foolish enough to enter it. It seemed as though this world was meant to kill any ounce of joy of those that entered it.

Finally they arrived at the entrance of a great castle. It was unmistakably the den of whoever ruled over this cheerless realm. She did not even want to imagine what horror was waiting for her beyond the towering doors.

“My lord has requested to meet with you alone,” V said as he released her hand. “The throne room is at the heart of the castle. Keep walking forward and you will arrive. Do make haste, however; his lordship does not like to be kept waiting.”

“Thank you,” she replied, even though he had just given her instructions on how to arrive to her end. Slowly, the doors opened on their own, and she made her way into the castle.

She knew that the interior to the castle would be huge, but even so she couldn’t stifle her gasp when she saw just how large it was. The ceiling looked as though it was touching the sky, and the grand staircase was made of black marble. The floor was polished so much that she could see her reflection in its dark face. What was most peculiar, however, was that the light sources came from blue flames, the fires dancing brightly from each chandelier and candelabra.

As much as she wanted to continue stalling, she knew she couldn’t procrastinate against her impending doom; if anything, he may just extend her pain as punishment for trying his patience. She took a deep breath, walked past the grand staircase, and down the long corridor.

After what seemed like an eternity, she arrived at the entrance to the throne chamber. She could see a large throne made of blue crystal, the same shade as the fire illuminating the castle. The figure seated at the throne had one leg crooked and crossed over the other, and he was slouching against his left hand, almost looking bored. As she stepped into the room, her quiet footsteps felt like in echo to her ears.

As she approached the figure, she was quick to notice his elegant blue coat lined in gold. Then her eyes darted to his pure white hair, neatly slicked back.

Dante? She thought, a light of hope blooming inside her. But that hope soon died as she came closer and realized that it couldn’t have been him; this man’s gaze was cold and threating, his frozen blue eyes never wavering their gaze from her. His skin was pale as death. “Vergil”, V had said his name was. She felt as though she was a rabbit walking into the den of a ravenous wolf. She finally stopped when she was a few feet away from, not daring to approach any further. She knelt on the cold ground, partly out of etiquette, partly out of fear, and partly because her legs felt as though they would give out beneath her.

“You’ve finally arrived…” he said. The sound of his voice made her feel so much smaller than she already was.

“P-Please,” she said, her body trembling far more than she would have liked. “Whatever you have planned for me, please make it quick.” She watched as he slowly unfolded his legs and stood up, taking the sword at his side in his hand. She gazed downwards and squeezed her eyes shut as she heard his footsteps become louder. Then she gasped as she felt an icy touch against her chin that gently tilted her head upwards. Her eyes flew open and she nearly gasped again when she saw his face so close to hers.

He was beautiful. Breathtaking even, his face perfectly carved and smooth like meticulously crafted marble. His gaze was cruel, but she would be a fool to deny that there was so much beauty to be found in his coldness, even in his icy stare.

“My dear,” he said, “what I have planned for you will make you beg for me not to stop.” He stood up again and released his sword, the sound of the blade’s cry sending a chill down her spine. But instead of striking her down, he used the sword to slice through her nightgown from neckline to navel-level, the blade cutting through the flimsy fabric like fire to paper. She cried out and tried to cover herself, but he pushed her arms away before she could. The gaping tear caused the fabric to only barely cover her nipples, the curve of her breasts almost completely visible to him.

She could have sworn she saw his lips briefly curl up to form the slightest grin as he gazed down at her before taking the tip of the blade between her breasts and over her heart, then carving a demon mark into her skin. She screamed as the blade cut into her flesh, but it was over far quicker than she expected. Then she saw him slice open the tip of his finger against the blade, watching as a single drop of blood splattered against the pristine floor. He knelt down again and traced over the mark he gave her with his wounded finger, their blood combining.

“For eternity you shall be bound to me,” he said as the blood smeared against her skin. When he was finished the mark glowed bright red for a few seconds before fading away. She looked down and saw that she was no longer bleeding, the wound now a red outline against her pale skin. She touched the mark with her fingertips, realizing that the pain had disappeared. As she watched him sheath the blade she noticed that his wound had also completely healed.

Before she could fully comprehend everything that had happened to her, she felt herself being lifted up with ease, her body cradled closely against his chest. She quickly covered her chest as best she could by overlapping the torn fabric as he carried her back the way she came, his strides quick and precise. Then he took her up the grand staircase and down another corridor, before stopping at a door and opening it. When they entered, he kicked the door behind him shut.

The room was enormous, far larger than her entire house. In the far corner was a fireplace, its hearth blazing brightly in front of a luxurious looking sofa. A table and two chairs were positioned in front of a large window, the moonlight on full display with the curtains open. He gently placed her in the large bed in the center rear of the room, the black silk sheets feeling wonderfully smooth against her skin. He swiftly pulled off his boots and climbed on top of her, trapping her body beneath his own. She could feel her heart pounding harder, so full of fear of what he intended to do to her...

Then he gently stroked his cheek and kissed her. She immediately pressed her hands against his sturdy chest, trying to push him off, but it only made the kiss more intense as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Quickly, though, she closed her eyes as a strange, but pleasurable sensation rippled through her body. His skin was cold, but his mouth was as warm as hers, and she welcomed his tongue wrapping around her own as his lips molded against hers.

Kissing him felt as though she was kissing the embodiment of sin; she knew this wrong, so horribly wrong, to let a demon seduce her. And yet, the pleasure he gave her was so intense, so wonderful, that it was all too easy to surrender, to give herself completely to him if it meant more of this wonderful feeling.

When he finally pulled away, she unintentionally let out a small whimper from her lips, which did not go unnoticed to him.

“My sweet Beatrice,” he said stroking her cheek again, “you’ve devoted your life to virtue, and your village rewarded you by throwing you to oblivion. But as long as you are mine, you shall never be starved for love again.”

He looked at her as no one else looked at her before, as though she were the only woman in the world. He was like a glimmer of light in a sea of sorrow, a chance to have love and joy in her life again. Never would she have dreamed that any man would look at her this way, or speak such words of affection to her. Perhaps she could truly be happy by his side…

No; what was she thinking? He was a demon, a denizen of hell, a servant of sin. How could she believe that what he was saying was true? How could she willingly surrender her soul and herself to the darkness for a mere moment of pleasure? She refused to let herself stray from the path of goodness, even if what she had tasted was irresistible.

“You’re a demon,” she said, though the words tasted like poison on her tongue. “I won’t be tempted by your empty promises. Please, return me.”

Anger erupted through Vergil for a brief moment, but it was soon extinguished; he was frustrated that she refused him, denying herself what she truly desired out of some foolish devotion to piety that had only failed her time and time again. But it would be all the more enjoyable to watch her resistance shatter when he would force her to surrender to his touch. He let out a bemused chuckle.

“If it’s a demon you wish to see,” he said, “then I will gladly show you.”

In an instant he tore her nightgown and underwear from her body, tossing the shredded fabric to the ground. Beatrice screamed and tried to pull the sheet over her body, but he firmly grabbed both her wrists in one hand, making her drop the dark silk from her fingers.

“Do not deny me what is mine,” he growled. When he released her wrists, they landed on the bed with a soft thud. She did not dare move them, even as her body trembled in fear. She wanted desperately to shut her eyes, so she would not have to see his lecherous gaze upon her naked body, but she could bring herself to stop staring at how intently he scanned over every inch of her; no man had ever seen her like this, and it felt so humiliating for him to do so, but she could see something strange in his gaze, something that frightened her, and yet excited her, knowing that it was the sight of her drove him to this state.

He trailed his hand from her thigh to the side of her breast, his breath becoming heavy as he admired her gentle curves and lithe figure. How soft… Her body was so small and dainty, so easy to hold and caress. Her breasts were small, but perfectly round, topped with rosy pink nipples. Normally he would find such vulnerably and fragility detestable, but seeing her like this, her body at its most powerless beneath him, activated something inside of him, something protective, something possessive… The only blemish on her skin was the mark that he gave her, which he briefly ran down with his fingertips… there were so many more places for him to mark on her pristine body…

Never had he seen a more beautiful sight.

“How strange,” he said, “that an angel is the epitome of purity, and yet has a body that would drive a man to sin.”

Finally he lowered his head to her left breast and left a gentle kiss. The sensation was so light, barely noticeable, but it sent flutters from her heart nonetheless. Then he took the nipple in his mouth and teased it with his tongue.

“No, please! Stop!” she begged, trying as hard as she could to not think about how good it felt. She pushed her hands against his shoulders, but it felt as though all her strength had vanished, as though his touch had robbed her of all her power. Worse yet, he then began to suck on the pink bud, his teeth ever so slightly grazing it, causing the sensation to become even stronger. “Please stop!” He continued the torturous pleasure by giving attention to the other breast, gently squeezing it and rubbing the nipple between his fingers. Her body suddenly became warm all over, as though she were set before a blazing fire. She shifted her legs against each other, trying desperately to calm the throbbing ache that was forming between them.

Finally he stopped. He gave her barely a moment’s reprieve before interrogating her again.

“Are you ready to surrender yet?” he asked. She swiftly shook her head. “No? Then perhaps a bit more force is in order.” He stepped off of her and unfastened his belt. Then he opened the front of his pants and released his erection, which had started to become painful from being strained against his pants.

Oh God she thought. She had seen what a man’s member looked like when her curiosity got the better of her at the library when she was younger, and she snuck a peek in a book full of drawings of the naked human form. But she never expected it to be so long and thick. The thought of it entering her made her cringe, and she hoped that he would give up his pursuit before he did. When he approached her again he positioned her so that she was sitting on her knees on the bed.

“Take it in your mouth,” he said. She was in such disbelief at what he said that she didn’t even move an inch. He took a lock of her hair between his fingers and gave a firm tug, which caused her to cry out. He pushed his cock inside the moment her mouth opened. “There’s a good girl,” he said as he bunched her hair from the back of her head in his hand. She did not know if this was genuine praise, him mocking her, or both.

She could taste a bit of fluid emerging from the tip, the taste bitter on her tongue. As she shifted her tongue around him to try to get more comfortable, she heard him release a barely audible groan. Then he took her head and gently pressed down, forcing more of cock into her as he bucked his hips. She tried to say something, but all that came out was a muffled “mmph!”

Her mouth felt so exquisite around his cock, so warm and wet. She was obviously inexperienced, as he expected her to be, but nonetheless her sweet little mouth around him made his entire body tense up as she struggled to take all of him in. As he continued to thrust into her mouth, she began sucking on it, which caused him to let out a low growl and his grip on her hair to tighten. Perhaps she was hoping that if she satisfied him, he would release her. Sadly for her, the night had only barely started. But soon she would gleefully embrace the blissful euphoria he would give her over and over again.

He increased his speed and force, the head hitting the back of her throat and nearly causing her to gag. She never felt so degraded, like she was just an outlet for his pleasure… and yet the throbbing between her legs did not stop. For a moment she was tempted to use her hand to relieve the ache, but she quickly discarded the idea, knowing it would fill her with even more sinful guilt than she already had.

Soon his thrusts became much more erratic and forceful, making saliva drip from the side of her lips as her mouth tried to adjust itself to him. “I’m going to cum soon,” he said with uneven breath. “You’re going to swallow all of it.” Shortly after he said those words she felt a rush of hot, thick liquid gushing down her throat. It was salty and bitter, but she knew that if she didn’t swallow it she would choke. It was pouring out so fast that she could barely take it all in, but she endured, forcing herself to accept every last drop.

When he was finally finished, he released her hair and she collapsed on the bed, her body completely open to him. He could see how her legs were split in the most enticing way, her entrance on full display, open and begging for him to touch with how wet she was. Had he not known how innocent she was, he would have suspected she had done this intentionally in an attempt to seduce him. The scent of her arousal was so strong that it nearly drove him to mate with her in that instant, but he managed to withhold the temptation. He repositioned her so that her head was against the pillow and straddled her with his legs again.

“Tell me, Beatrice,” he said as he glided his hand down her belly, “are you enjoying this?”

“No,” she replied, her voice betraying her words.

She let out a scream of pain and pleasure when she felt something shoved inside of her. She looked down and saw two of his fingers delved completely into her entrance. Her body was dripping so much that her fluids were running down the palms of his hands to his wrists. Then he started thrusting his finger in and out of her, making pleasure ripple through her body. She gripped into the sheets, feeling as though she would burst if she didn’t.

“Really?” he said. “Then why is it you’re so wet around my fingers right now?” He removed his fingers, giving her a chance to gasp for air. He placed his hand in front of her face, making her look at how her fluids glistened against his skin. “Surely you must know that it’s a sin to lie, my dear.” Her mouth fell agape as she watched him take his drenched fingers into his mouth and lick them clean, closing his eyes and moaning as he tasted her desire on his tongue. The act was so lewd and depraved, but she could feel her passage tighten when she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. When he had finished, he turned his gaze towards her. The icy blue eyes that made her shiver had turned blood red, much more dangerous and predatory, and yet somehow so much more enticing.

He kissed her and continued downwards, the light as air touches of his lips making her feel lightheaded and dizzy. Downward he went, his lips brushing against her breasts, her belly, her navel…

Then he kissed a spot that sent lightning through her body. He must have known the effect it had on her because he remained there, letting his breath linger there before kissing it again, making her entire body shiver and tense up.

When he was done, he took his hands on either side of her hips and stopped at her entrance. She was tempted to close her legs, humiliated that he was so close to such a private part of her body, but she knew he would only roughly pull them back apart if she did.

Without warning, he slipped his tongue inside of her, lapping up her fluids and slowly stroking her walls. Out of pure instinct she yelped and snapped her legs shut, but she only gave him more leverage to trap her, his hands tightly gripping her thighs and keeping them in place. She looked down and the sight of him using his mouth on her most intimate region without shame or mercy made her greatly embarrassed, but also somehow managed to arouse her more than she already was.

She had become so wet from his touches that she had left a damp spot on the bed beneath her. He would make sure that no more of her juices would go to waste as he greedily drank up every drop as her body produced it, the precise strokes of his tongue making her breath quicken and her throat release delightfully high-pitched moans. She tasted so sweet, like honey made from the finest nectar; the effect was almost intoxicating.

Suddenly his movements became faster and more intense. She squirmed in his grip, but she was punished with a stabbing pain in her skin. She looked down and nearly fainted at what she saw: His hands were covered in thick, dark blue scales, and his nails extended into sharp claws that dug into her flesh, a bead of blood forming at each tip. The wounds were painful, and she nearly screamed in terror, but soon her back curved into a beautiful arch as his tongue delved deeper, touching the places that made her delirious in pleasure.

It was not long until she threw her head back into the pillow and scream out to the skies when the heat inside her had ruptured, every nerve in her body bursting. She could feel him lap up her fluids as she came into his mouth. Soon she came to her senses as he lifted himself up from between her legs.

He could wait no longer; he had explored every inch of her body, fell in love with every dip and curve… He had to mate with her now. He positioned himself over her so that the tip of his cock was at her entrance. Her legs had closed, scared of the pain that would ensure. He gently opened them back up. He raised his hand to stroke her face again. She flinched at first, frightened of how inhuman his hand looked and knowing how his claws could hurt her, but she calmed some when she felt the coarse scales gently caress her soft cheek.

“My angel,” he said, “relax for me.” He carefully grabbed onto her shoulders, letting her put her small hands on his own. With a throaty groan, he pushed himself all the way inside of her.

Beatrice screamed out and grabbed onto his hands as hard as she could; she felt like something had been torn apart inside her, her body being forced apart by him. She no longer had the strength to hold back her tears, the pain of losing her virginity so much more intense than she had anticipated. Vergil removed his hands from her shoulders and cupped them around her face, their warmth giving her some comfort as he leaned down to kiss her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, “You truly are an angel.” After a moment of reprieve he pulled out until only the head remained, before pushing back in. She whimpered in pain, but he continued his slow rhythm, letting her body become used to him. After a few minutes the pain had begun to subside. It was not long after until she let out the first moan of pleasure.

That was when every ounce of his self-control was lost. He grabbed her hips and relentlessly thrust into her, making her gasp.

“Vergil!” she cried out. She wanted to tell him to slow down, but any words that she tried to form were dissolved into incoherent sounds.

“So fucking good,” she heard him murmur. In any other circumstance she would have blushed at his crude language, but she had already gotten used to his fast and unforgiving pace that she didn’t even care. His cock was so long, so thick, that it stretched out the walls of her tight passage and hit the regions inside of her that made her feel pure bliss. Every time he entered her, her walls seemed to squeeze around him, drawing him in as much as possible, her surplus of fluids allowing him to delve in and out of her easily as he groaned with each thrust. Even his claws digging into her hips only amplified the intense pleasure she was feeling. She wrapped her slender legs around his waist, desperately wanting him closer and deeper, her sweet little moans and yelps fueling his brutal desire.

“You are mine,” he growled, his bright red eyes staring into hers, “you are mine alone to break, to mate, to breed. No one else shall have this with you.”

“Yes, Vergil,” she said, finally finding the strength to form speech. “I’m yours forever. Only yours.” The sound of her voice saying those coveted words nearly drove him mad with lust. He leaned his head into her collarbone and bit into the flesh, eagerly drinking the blood the pooled into his mouth. She held his head in place, her slender fingers weaving through his hair.

Finally the coil that had been forming in her lower region had snapped; she tensed her body around him as she screamed out his name, her vision turning pure white. When her walls tightened around him, he thrust himself inside as deep as he could before he came inside her, his seed shooting into her womb. He bucked his hips for a few more moments as more of his cum entered her, wanting to fill her past the brim, before finally coming to a stop.

Beatrice nearly fainted from the intensity, but she managed to stay conscious for a bit longer. When he pulled out of her a stream of their combined fluids gushed out of her and onto the bed. Some of her blood remained smeared on his cock. Afterwards he rolled off of her, pulled her to his chest, and placed the covers over them so she wouldn’t freeze. She noticed that his hands looked human again, and his eyes had returned blue. He gently tilted her head upwards and tenderly kissed her lips.

“You have doubts,” he said. “I can sense it. But soon you will know the extent of my love for you.” She barely registered those words before falling asleep in his arms. He had not undressed before this, but he did not dare disturb her now; he tightened his embrace of her and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

It had been well past dawn by now, the sun high in the sky, and Beatrice was still asleep. It was hours after the both of them would normally awaken, and Vergil had already been awake for some time by then, but he was content to watch her slumber peacefully until she arose.

For the first time in many years he felt true happiness; it had been so long that he had forgotten how it felt. It was… wonderful. He had never believed in soulmates, the idea that there was one being specifically fated for another, even as a child, and certainly not that love could be born at first sight. Even when his father told him and his brother many times that the love he felt for his mother the first time he gazed into her eyes was what made betray Mundus, he thought it was simply a fairy-tale version of what truly happened.

But from the moment he couldn’t bring himself he end her life at his hand, he had begun to wonder if there was some truth to what he had been told. He did not believe it at first, of course, not when he denied that he could even hold compassion for someone so weak. But she soon awakened feelings inside his heart that he had never felt for another before, and the thought of her in the blissful embrace of another made his blood boil. He knew that soon she would fully embrace her own feelings for him that lay just below the surface.

But the joy that he had been given had also given him fear; one more to love also meant one more to possibly lose, one more to protect… he could not let any harm come to her. He knew next to nothing of angels, so he had no idea how she could use her power to protect herself. He would have to be the one to protect her, especially as a Demon King’s bride was an ideal target…

Finally he felt her begin to stir awake. The first sight her enchanting eyes saw was his gaze upon her.

“Sleep well, my love?” he asked.

For a moment she thought that perhaps everything that had happened was a dream; being sent as a sacrifice, escorted to the Demon King’s lair, this beautiful demon filling her with pleasure beyond words… But feeling his arms around her body and his chest against hers made her all the more aware that this was truly real…

Did she love him? She did not know how else to describe these feelings she had; after he had made love to her last night, she did not want to experience something so wonderful with anyone else but him, nor have anyone else hold or kiss her the way he did.

But how could she love this man, this demon? What he gave her was indescribable, but he had all but robbed her of her virginity the same night he had met her. How could she be sure that this demon was true to his word when he said he loved her, and not manipulating her so that she could be his plaything? Would her soul fall to oblivion because of what she had done?

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“What… what will become of me?” she finally asked.

“You will live by my side as my mate; you will never be without me, and I will love and shelter you always.” He kissed her before climbing out of bed and taking his sword that was against the bedside table.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m afraid I lingered in bed longer than I would have liked. But I promise that I will return before nightfall.” He kissed her again, this time on the forehead. “If there is anything you need, my servants will assist you.” He swiftly exited the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Beatrice pulled the sheets off of her and immediately noticed the injuries left on her body: Puncture wounds that were now scabbed and surrounded by bruised skin were left on her hips and thighs. They were tender to the touch. At her collarbone she could feel the pattern of bite marks. And of course, the mark right at her heart remained…

When she stood from the bed, her body immediately began to ache from her midsection to her legs. She had hoped that this would not happen every time he made love to her. She looked down and saw that here tattered clothes were now gone. She turned towards the fireplace and noticed something laying across the back of the sofa. When she approached it she saw that there were a set of clothes laid out for her, including a violet dress with long sleeves. When she dressed herself, the dress was slightly large around her waist, and she tied the waist ties into a firm bow, making sure the length of each tail was even.

She left the bedroom and saw a woman with long blonde standing at the foot of the staircase. When the woman heard Beatrice stepping down the stairs, she smiled at her.

“Good morning, my lady,” she said. “I hope you slept well. My name is Trish. Breakfast is waiting for you in the dining hall. Follow me.”

Awaiting them was a large room with a long black table with at least twenty seats surrounding it. To the right of the furthermost end seat was a white plate with eggs, fruit, and toast served on it.

“Thank you,” Beatrice said as she took her seat. “Where has Vergil gone to?”

“He is off fighting today.”

“Fighting?”

“Yes. Other days he’ll spend locked away in his study. Occasionally he will travel for extended periods of time.”

“Why is that?”

“My lord desires power above all else, so that he may protect what he has left. It is why every day he works to become stronger, whether it is through slaying lesser, disloyal demons, studying away in private, or any other method.”

So Vergil spends much of his time putting himself in danger… Beatrice knew that the reason why was so that he could become stronger to protect what he cherishes, but the thought of him regularly seeking out danger worried her. She did not doubt his strength, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there would ever be a time where he would encounter something not even he could match…

“Please don’t worry, my lady,” Trish said. “The last thing my lord would want is to see you in distress.”

“Has he ever… been hurt?”

“Yes… occasionally. But I can assure you that he has never been seriously injured. And an injury is a small tradeoff when his enemies don’t even walk away with their lives.”

It did not surprise Beatrice that the hands that had so lovingly touched and caressed her had also killed, but knowing that he was almost certainly killing without a second thought while she sat peacefully eating breakfast made her slightly unnerved. She supposed that there would be many things about living with a demon that she would have to become accustomed to…

After she had finished eating Trish had shown her around the castle. There were so many rooms, even more than even the wealthiest of people’s homes she had seen, that she felt as though she would need a map just to navigate her way.

“If you want to go someplace outside the castle, either myself or V will take you there; my lord has told us that he does not want you outside the castle without an escort.” Vergil’s request should have made her frustrated, but Beatrice doubted that many of the demons that resided in this world were as kind as the ones that lived in the castle. She knew that she was no match for even the weakest demon.

Once her tour was finished, she found a book on demonology in the library. On the inside cover in elegant script was written the name “Eva”. It was a book that she had seen before at the church, but she had not thought to read it until now. There were many types of demons described in great detail, from animalistic ones that had no mind of their own except to devour their prey, to much more powerful ones that would make deals with humans in exchange for their souls, in which the demons would make them their slaves for eternity when they died.

She also read a whole section on the demon mark: Many times it was used to mark a demon’s domain or to indicate that a demon had wanted to make its presence known. If a human wanted to summon a demon, they would paint the mark in blood and offer a human sacrifice. Then she read that demons would carve the mark into the flesh of their mates as part of a soul binding ritual: a tiny part of each of the participant’s souls would be exchanged, so they each had a part of one another’s soul. The process would ensure that their fates would be entwined for eternity.

She placed her hands between her breasts. A part of him would always be with her, and a part of her with him… She knew that severing and mutilating one’s soul was one of the gravest sins one could commit; after all, the soul was a gift from God and mutilating it was spitting in the face of that perfect gift. But she couldn’t help but find the process of soul binding to be romantic, the idea that they would be bound together spiritually forever…

“What’s happening to me?” she muttered to herself. For her entire life she wanted to lead a life of morality and goodness, not just for herself, but for her mother, who helped guide her to that path. And now so quickly she had diverted to the path of sin. Would her soul burn for what she had done?

As the sun was beginning to set, Beatrice found herself awaiting Vergil’s return in one of the parlors, idly drinking tea in a seat by the window. He said he would return before nightfall, and it had only just turned dusk, but she couldn’t help but worry if he would return in one piece, if he would return at all.

As though on cue she heard the sound of the great doors opening. Quickly she arose from her seat and made her way to the foyer. There Vergil stood, looking none the worse for wear. He smiled when his gaze turned to her.

“Hello, my love,” he said as he caressed her cheek. “Were you worried about me?”

“A little,” she admitted. As he leaned his head in to kiss her, they both heard a distinct whistling sound. Dante was leaning against the staircase, a bemused look on his face.

“Well, well,” he said. “You could have told me you decided to bite the bullet.”

“What do you want?” Vergil asked sounding very displeased.

“Come on, bro, were you trying to keep this a secret or something? Afraid I would make a move on your girl?”

“I was hoping to spend some time with my new bride, dear brother, if you would be so kind as to give us some privacy in our own home.”

“Aw, c’mon now, surely you can spare just of couple of minutes.” Dante approached closer to them, turning towards Beatrice. “I honestly thought this day would never come. You must be something real special to him. Of course, had he waited just a little longer, I may have just have beat him to you; doesn’t seem right to have such a pretty lady be single forever.”

Before she could say a word, Vergil’s sword flew past her face like a blur and towards his brother, which was stopped by Dante’s own blade.

“Stop! Please!” she cried, but her words fell on deaf ears as the sound of clanging metal rung through the foyer. Her hands flew to her mouth; what should she do? Should she stop them? But how? She can’t just jump between them; that would be suicide. But they didn’t seem to notice her when she shouted.

“I do hate it when they fight indoors,” V said as he approached from behind her. A bundle of books and papers were gathered in his arms. “They always leave such a mess afterwards. My lady, Trish has drawn a bath for you and prepared your night clothes. Perhaps you will finish by the time these two are done with their little sparring match.” Beatrice felt a bit guilty for not doing anything more to stop them, but V seemed confident that they wouldn’t kill one another.

In the center of the bathroom was a large, rectangular indentation filled with water, a flowery scent emanating from it. Beatrice removed her clothes and neatly set them on the table before stepping into the bath. She let out a sigh as she lay down and let the warm water surround her body, the small amount of lingering pain that she still felt completely dissolving. When she had thoroughly scrubbed herself clean she pulled the stopper out of the bottom and stepped out. Waiting for her was a soft, fluffy towel to dry herself with.

Hanging on a hook attached to the wall was an exquisite white dress with billowy sleeves. The lightweight fabric felt so luxurious and the dress was so well-crafted that she couldn’t believe that such a garment was meant to be slept in.

After she slipped the dress on and left the bathroom, both Dante and Vergil had left the foyer, and V was shaking his head as he looked at the cracked floor and ripped wallpaper. Much to her surprise, there was not even so much as a single drop of blood.

When she entered the bedroom, Vergil was setting his blade against the bedside table before looking up at her.

“I apologize for the incident earlier,” he said. “My brother can be insufferable even at the best of times.” He approached her as she shut the door. He took her cheek in the palm of his hand and deeply inhaled against her neck. “You smell divine.” The floral aroma of the bath soaps and oils complemented her natural scent perfectly. He began kissing and gently sucking at her neck, making her let out a moan. He took her in his arms and lay her on the bed beneath him. Immediately he pressed his lips against her own and coaxed his tongue into her mouth, which she eagerly accepted.

As he kissed her he rubbed his hand against her breast and he could feel her nipple harden against his palm through the delicate fabric. He pulled away for just a moment and he could already see her cheeks turn bright pink from arousal. Perhaps there was still a bit of embarrassment left over from the previous night. How sweet. He slowly pulled the nightgown from her down from her shoulders, wanting to make the moment last as long as he could as more of her skin was revealed to him. When her body was completely bared to him and let the dress fall to the ground. As he leaned in to kiss her again she stopped him by gently pressing her hand against his chest. She began to unfasten his vest.

“Do you wish for me to be unclothed?” he asked. She nodded. He smiled at her before stepping off the bed. She watched as he pulled off his clothes one by one, leaving them in a pile next to her nightgown. When he returned on top of her, he let her glide her hand down his chest, admiring every firm muscle. He was easily the most handsome man she had ever seen, making it all the more surreal that this was happening to her.

Without warning he pushed his fingers inside of her, causing her gasp. She was already making his fingers soaked.

“Vergil,” she moaned.

“Already so eager to be ravished by a demon,” he said as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. “I could enter you right now if you so desired it. Or perhaps you’d like me to draw this night out a little longer.”

“I…” she said as she panted. It was difficult for her to speak while she was being pleasured by his hand.

“Yes?”

“I… I want… I want you…” she couldn’t believe the words that she was about to say. “I want you to use your… your mouth on me down there.”

“As you wish, my lady.” He kissed his way down her body, making her tremble with each contact of his lips, until he reached that sensitive spot right above her entrance. Instead of kissing her, however, he clamped his lips around it and gently rubbed it with his tongue. She was unable to hold back a sudden cry of pleasure as he continued to stroke his tongue against her clit. She had felt so much pleasure just by him stimulating that tiny spot, so many sensations electrifying through her body, that she thought she would climax soon. Of course, he stopped right before she could. He chuckled when he heard her whine out of frustration. “Patience is a virtue, my dear.”

He gently bit into her soft inner thigh before licking up her slit. She bucked her hips up, but he quickly held her down. He licked away the fluids that lingered from his earlier actions before pushing his tongue inside. Her legs wrapped around his head, wanting to keep his head in place. As if he would ever dream of leaving his mate disappointed. His tongue continued to rub against her slick walls, coating his mouth with her sweet juices, refusing to waste even a drop. Tighter she clenched her legs and deeper he pushed his tongue inside her as she came closer to her peak.  

He could feel her passage clench around his tongue as she came, her cry of pleasure arousing him even more as he drank up her sinfully delicious fluids. When he was finally finished he kissed her as she was beginning to recover from her orgasm, making her taste the product of her lust.

“Please,” she begged when he pulled away.

“’Please’ what?”

“Please I… I want you to… I want you to make love to me.” A part of her thought she would die of embarrassment from being forced to put her desire into words, but nonetheless it made her all the more eager for him.

How could he deny her after she had asked desperately? And after she had been so patient? Not even a demon could deny her after all of this. He positioned her so that she was on her side, his body positioned between her legs, and pushed inside. She still felt a bit of pain when he entered her, her body still so new to this and he so large, and he leaned his body over hers, wrapping his arms around her. But the pain quickly passed when he began thrusting, his cock fitting firmly in her entrance and the wetness allowing it to slide in and out easily. Her breast fit perfectly in his hand as he squeezed it and rubbed her nipple between his fingers.

“So tight and wet for me,” he growled possessively before biting into her delicate neck.

“Yours,” she managed to say between thrusts. “Only… ah…only yours.” He removed his mouth from her neck, leaving a deep red mark against her flesh. Then he kissed her deeply as he increased his speed and force. He tenderly rubbed his hand against her mark as she moaned into his mouth, feeling her rapid heartbeat against his palm.

The scream of her climax was muffled by his kiss, and he made sure he was deep inside of her before allowing himself to release. His seed felt warm and thick as her womb began to overflow. When he was finished, he pulled her close to him, her back pressed against his chest.

“So beautiful,” he said pulling the covers over them. “Never shall I stray from you. I will always be by your side. Never forget that.” He placed his hand against her mark again, which she took into hers before falling asleep.

Chapter Text

Today Vergil was holed up in his study, meticulously reviewing the books and documents that V had delivered to him. It gave Beatrice peace of mind knowing that he was safe in the castle today, even though she knew that he would be out fighting again soon enough.

She hesitantly knocked on the door to his study; she knew he didn’t want to be disturbed while working, but she hoped he would at least allow her presence to accompany him.

“Yes?” his voice replied. She opened the door, making it let out an audible creak. The sternness in his expression immediately softened when he saw her. “Is something the matter, my love?”

“No, not at all,” she quickly said. “I was just… wondering if I could stay here with you for a bit? If that’s all right. I promise I won’t be a bother.” Vergil smiled at her.

“Of course.” She shut the door behind her and entered the room. Lining the walls were bookshelves filled with very old looking books and a few fancy looking boxes. She peeked over his shoulder and saw him reading a book written in a language she didn’t recognize. The black cover had parts of it that had worn away from age. On his desk she saw a map of Fortuna, where on the very right edge of it was circled in ink. It was where her home village was located.

“Why is this circled?” she asked while pointing to it.

“Ah yes, I was hoping to keep that a surprise for you, but I suppose it’s too late now; I plan on sending a horde of demons into the village to destroy it and burn it all to ash.” He had expected her to be pleased with this news. Instead, her face looked to be a combination of horrified and furious, her hands bunched into fists.

“How could you?” She finally said.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“How could you kill all of those innocent people without a second thought?” He stood up from his seat.

“Innocent? They barely tolerated your existence for your entire life, and then they were more than willing to throw you to your death. They are pathetic parasites that are far from innocent that deserve the painful end I have planned for them.”

“But the church; they buried my mother and gave me a place to stay!”

“Then they will see their reward in death.” Beatrice couldn’t believe that he was so insistent on his plans to massacre an entire village. She knew that a demon’s nature was different from a human’s, but she didn’t think that Vergil would be so determined to destroy when he gained nothing from it.

“You truly can’t see them as anything more than detestable…”

“Never.”

“Then… if you won’t spare them because you think it’s moral to do so… then spare them for me.” Vergil looked down for a moment; he wanted revenge on those weak, cowardly, humans who would sacrifice an innocent woman without second thought, a woman who did nothing to harm them, the woman who would become his mate. Creatures like them deserved to suffer the wrath of a slow and painful demise, their last moments full of fear. And yet, Beatrice all but begged him to spare their lives despite everything that they did to her. It was surely the inherent weakness of an angel, to be so merciful of humans despite their sins. He knew she would never forgive him if he went through with his plans, and that he would have to live the rest of his life knowing that she harbored that resentment towards him. It would leave a fracture in their relationship permanently…

“You truly want to give these people mercy?” he asked.

“Yes. Please.”

“Then… I will honor your request; your pathetic village will live.” The tenseness in her body finally released as she approached him, a sigh of relief escaping from her body.

“Thank you,” she said before kissing his cheek. Her lips sent tiny shockwaves through his nerves, but he was not about to make that apparent. She left the study, believing that he would want to be alone after their argument.

“Everything all right?” Dante asked. She looked over and saw him leaning against the top of the staircase across from her. “It’s just that I heard some yelling.”

“Oh… yes, it’s all right now. You don’t need to worry.”

“Just wanted to make sure. I know my brother can be a bit of a hardass.” Beatrice tried not to make her surprise of his vulgar slang obvious.

“Y-Yes, I suppose he can be rather stubborn.”

“That’s putting it mildly. But you know, he wasn’t always like that. You should have seen him when we were kids.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. See, this one morning, when we were about six, he suddenly comes running out of his room and grabbed onto our mom for dear life, screaming and crying. Turns out his room is crawling with spiders; there must have been a nest hidden somewhere, and he didn’t even realize it until they hatched. Dad had to go in and kill them all while Mom tried to calm him down.” Beatrice giggled; she felt a bit bad for him; after all, she probably would have been scared too if something like that happened to her. But she couldn’t help but find it funny to know that strong, stoic Vergil once had such a reaction to something as small as spiders. “I didn’t let him live that one down for years,” he added. “I still don’t think he’s a big fan of spiders.”

“Oh my goodness,” she said as she tried to recover from laughing so much. “Thank you, Dante, I feel a lot better already.”

A few days later Vergil had told her he planned to travel to a faraway kingdom, and that he would be gone for a week. The research he had done pointed him to a demon amulet hidden deep within the catacombs of the royal family. Hundreds of years ago, long before even Vergil was born, a demon had ascended the throne. When he was slain by his oppressed and vengeful subjects, a priest entrapped the king’s soul in the amulet. If Vergil was able to find the amulet and destroy the soul, he could gain the king’s power for himself.

“Must you really go?” Beatrice pleaded as she lay her head against his chest in bed. “They’ll be so many other demons after it, I’m sure.”

“Remember, my dear, I’m doing this so that I can better protect you.” He kissed her forehead and squeezed her tight. “I will return to you in one week’s time.”

It had been eleven days since he left.

She remained mostly calm on the eighth day; perhaps he was having trouble making his way home. But by day ten she was practically in a panic. What if he finally took on more than he could handle? What if he had been killed by a horde of demons? Or executed by a priest? She tried to distract herself with books or sewing, but it would not be long before her mind would wander to the worst case scenario. She had even begun to lose sleep, her mind plagued with thoughts of him dead. She even prayed for his safe return, even if she wasn’t even sure that praying for a demon would reach anyone’s ears, let alone even care to listen to a woman so steeped in sin.

Trish had given her tea before bed that was meant to help her sleep. Already she was becoming drowsy. Perhaps she could finally get some rest…

It had taken a few days longer than he anticipated, but he had finally done it; there were countless other demons in his path, all hoping to receive the hidden power within the graves that could possibly lead them to usurping the Demon King, but they all turned to blood and dust in his path. When he destroyed the tyrant king’s soul, he could feel the power coursing through his veins, as though it was always meant to be his.

Finally, he was home; he looked forward to holding his mate in his arms again, for even after the first day of his separation of her did he begin to feel the pain of her absence. But as he walked up the stairs, he heard her screaming as though she were in excruciating pain. He ran to the bedroom and practically pulled the door off its hinges.

“No, please, don’t leave me!” she cried. “You’ll die! Please don’t go! Please hide with me!” Her forehead was covered in sweat, and tears streamed down her flushed cheeks as her body thrashed around in bed, as though she were struggling against some invisible force.

“Beatrice!” Vergil shouted. He shook her shoulders, but she did not awaken. “Beatrice!”

“Let me go! Let me go!” He held onto her tightly, afraid she would hurt herself. After giving her one last firm shake, she awakened with a scream. “Vergil…” She threw her arms around him, as though he had saved her from the brink of death. “Oh Vergil… you’re finally home… I was so worried… I thought something had happened…” He held onto her tightly as her breathing recovered.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes… it was only a nightmare… one I used to have often as a child, but now much rarer… it was about my mother on the night she died…” She suddenly became quiet. He sat on the bed next to her.

“Why don’t you tell me about your mother; perhaps it will help ease your mind.” She had not spoken to anyone about her mother in ages; the memories were too painful. But perhaps he was right in believing that opening up about them would help her.

“Very well…”

Since as far back as she could remember, it was only her and her mother, Marianne; there was no father in her life, and whenever Beatrice asked about him, her mother simply said that he wasn’t around anymore. But it mattered little; her mother gave her child all the love she could possibly need, and then some.

They moved to their little village shortly after Beatrice was born. Beatrice remembered that the villagers always treated the two of them with suspicion; after all, an unwed mother with a newborn suddenly moving to their remote settlement was surely hiding something. But her mother paid little mind to them, focusing only on raising her daughter to the best of her abilities.

They were not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but they lived day by day and found fulfillment in their humble lives where they could. Her mother taught her how to read and write, as well as what kind of wild vegetation could be harvested and how to raise herbs from seeds. She made money from her sewing skills, which she taught her daughter as she worked on whatever project she was assigned. They went to church every week, something that Beatrice was not always happy about, but whenever the other villagers would try to pry information about her private life from her, her mother was quick to pull her away.

Never a day went by where Beatrice felt unloved. Her mother always kissed her when she cried, whether it was from the loud roar of a thunderstorm, her finger scratched by a sharp briar, or finding a dead sparrow lying among the leaves of the forest. They shared one another’s warmth as they nuzzled in bed together every night. Her mother’s gentle voice and soft touch was always there to give her comfort.

But one night, when Beatrice was ten years old, their peaceful lives were shattered forever. Her mother was watching as she sewed buttons on a men’s shirt, making sure each one was evenly spaced and tightly secured. Then suddenly, they heard someone banging against the door, causing the walls to shake.

“Marianne,” a sinister voice called, “remember me? Come on out, my little stranded angel.” Another bang against the door nearly caused it to collapse.

“Beatrice, quickly, come with me,” she said grabbing her daughter’s hand. She swiftly pulled the gray carpet from the floor and lifted up the indentation in the wood. She guided her daughter into the cramped space. “Beatrice, my darling, I need you to stay down there, and you must not move from this spot until it is safe.”

“Mother, please don’t leave me, I’m scared,” Beatrice pleaded as she tightly pulled at her mother’s hand.

“I know. But you must be brave, my darling. I love you so much.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead before shutting the door above her and replacing the carpet, blocking Beatrice’s vision so that she could she could not even see the tiniest hint of light from between the cracks of the floorboards, and most of her hearing was muffled. But she could hear the wooden door collapsing. She pulled her knees to her chest and did not dare say a word. Then she felt like the earth was shaking beneath her. After a moment, the vibrations stopped.

Beatrice hesitated for a moment, not sure if it was safe, but after a period of silence she decided to crawl out of her hiding space. Various objects were scattered on the floor, but there was no stranger in the house. Then her sight found her mother lying on the ground, her body limp and eyes shut.

“Mother!” Beatrice cried as she ran towards her. Marianne’s eyes opened to the sound of her daughter’s voice. Slowly, she reached her hand towards hers, a weak smile spreading across her face.

“Beatrice…” she said as her hand touched her daughter’s. Her voice was strained and barely above a whisper. “I love you… stay strong… for me…” Then her eyes shut for the last time, a peaceful expression left on her face as her soul left her body.

Beatrice screamed and sobbed louder than she ever had before. She wrapped her arms around her mother’s body, the comforting warmth already starting to fade, and cried into her breast. A part of her was determined to die by her mother’s side; what was left for her in life? Everyone despised her; why would they help her? If all that was left for her was to die in a miserable heap in the streets, then she would just choose instead to die next to the only person that ever loved her.

About an hour later she heard a group of people entering her home. They must have traced the source of whatever caused the earth to shake back to her. She did not look up at them.

“Poor kid,” she heard one of them say. Perhaps they were kind enough to have pity on her. Then she felt herself lifted from her mother’s side.

“No! Let me go!” She screamed. “I need to stay with her!” Then she saw someone carry her mother’s lifeless body in their arms and out the door. “No! Mother! Please, don’t take her! I need to be with her!”

She did not remember when she lost consciousness. All she remembered was waking up in a bed. Sitting by her side was the kindly priest of the church, his aged face looking at her in sympathy.

“My child,” he said. “I am so sorry about your mother.” She wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve.

“What will I do now?”

“You can stay here until you are of age; you will have a place to eat and sleep in safety. When you are old enough, you can return to your home.”

“What about… my mother?”

“She will be buried on these grounds in three days time. You will not have to worry about the cost of her funeral.” She could not believe the words he was saying; had this man really shown her compassion and kindness? Had someone truly not condemned her for her existence? Perhaps there was hope for here somewhere after all…

“Th-thank you,” she said. The priest smiled and patted her on the head.

“Get some sleep, child; it’s late now.” As stood from his seat, she saw a nun entering her room, looking at the priest in disbelief.

“Father,” the nun said, “should we really be doing this?” He placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder.

“Sister, please remember that she too is a child of the Lord.”

“I lived in the church until I was eighteen,” Beatrice explained. “They gave me food and shelter. In exchange, I cleaned the church and did other menial chores. Then when I came of age, I started living on my own…” Vergil felt guilt wash over him. Was it because of his extended stay that she was cursed with a nightmare of her worst memory? Because she was terrified of losing someone else that she loved? “I suppose you think it’s foolish of me to still be haunted by something that happened so long ago.” He shook his head.

“No,” he said squeezing her hand. “Not at all. My own mother and father died so that my brother and I could live. Do you know who Sparda was?”

“Yes; he was the demon who turned his back on his own kind and sealed the former Demon King away in his own domain, saving humanity. The priest always said that it was proof that even those steeped in the deepest of sin can find redemption.” Of course the church would use his father’s actions as fuel to gain more supporters. He resisted the urge to say that out loud, however.

“He had done all of that because of his love for my mother, Eva. After Mundus was sealed away, he made her his mate and lived a peaceful life in Fortuna to raise a family.

“Shortly after my brother and I’s eighth birthday, our home was attacked by demons. Somehow Mundas had broken the seal and wanted revenge. My mother took us and fled, but Mundus soon caught up to us. So she told us to run before standing right in front of him, knowing that she would die so that we could have a few extra seconds to escape. I still remember her scream as he struck her down without a second thought…

“Soon we found our father, who asked us where our mother was. When none of us answered, I could see the despair and rage in his eyes. He told us to where to go where we would be safe, and entered the flames. A moment later I could sense his life force wilt away…” He squeezed her hand tighter. “Despite their love for one another and their children, they were still too weak to save themselves, and the only way they could protect their sons was to sacrifice their own lives… I will never let that happen again.”

“Vergil…” She reached her hand to his cheek and kissed him. He quickly pushed her back on the bed and cupped her face as he deepened the kiss, her eyes fluttering shut as her hands wandered to the back of his neck. It had only been eleven days, but he had sorely missed this, feeling his mate’s touch, her soft skin against his, the warmth of her body...

Then he pulled away.

“I’ll join you in a moment,” he said as he was about to make his way to the dressing room.

“Wait,” she said as she grabbed his hand. “I missed you so much. I want to feel you against me again. I know you do too.” It was true that he missed her so; laying with her would relieve the tension that had grown inside him from his distance from her. But after her nightmare, he assumed that she would not be in any state of mind to mate with him tonight. “Please, comfort me, Vergil.”

It appeared he was mistaken.

He quickly climbed on top of her again, biting her bottom lip before inserting his tongue in her mouth. After a moment he pulled back to admire her body. How he loved that nightgown on her: It was so beautiful and elegant, but just beneath the surface was pure eroticism, waiting, begging to be uncovered. He slowly removed it from her form, watching intently as more and more of her silky skin was revealed to him.

She couldn’t help but be curious as to how much he missed the intimacy between them as he was pulling the nightgown past her hips; she slowly brought her arm up to cover her breasts. As soon as he noticed what she was up to, he roughly pinned it back on the bed before she could fully shield herself, a possessive growl rising from his throat.

“I am in no mood to play games tonight, my dear,” he warned as his gripped her wrist a bit too tightly. His eyes were blood red and she could already feel his scales forming against her skin, the courseness feeling a bit uncomfortable. So frightening, enough to send a chill down her spine… and yet she could hardly wait for what would happen tonight.

“Please forgive me, my love,” she pleaded.

“Are you truly remorseful?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then show me.” He stepped off the bed and released his cock from his pants. He was already fully erect, a small amount of fluid leaking from the tip. She knew exactly what he wanted from her.

She crawled over to the edge of the bed and gingerly took it in her hand, noticing how warm he was as she gently stroked it. She knew that this would not be enough to earn his forgiveness, however; she inserted it into her mouth, causing him to groan as it entered her wetness. Her tongue delicately wrapped itself around his length as she slowly bobbed her head up and down, firmly sucking so that the sides of her mouth were completely encasing it as she did. The sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from her between her perfectly shaped and tinted lips was immensely erotic, but he, of course, wanted more.

He gripped the hair at the back of her head and pushed down each time she pulled back up. It was somewhat of a struggle for her to take that much of him in her mouth, but she endured, knowing how much he enjoyed it. She could feel his claws digging into her scalp, but it only encouraged her to continue to pleasure him until he was satisfied.

“Who would have thought a sweet little maiden could be hiding a wanton harlot within?” he taunted. She never would have imagined being called such degrading words would have made her even more eager for him. She moaned in response to the throbbing sensation at her entrance, already becoming soaked just from using her mouth on him. She so tempted to beg him to touch her there, but she resisted. She felt him shudder a bit from the vibrations of her moan stimulating his cock.

He quickened his thrusts, surprising her at first, but she soon got used to his forcefulness. His breath became ragged, and she knew that was when he was going to release soon.

He let out a groan as he came, holding her head firmly in place so that the head of his cock was as far back in her throat as it would allow. She obediently swallowed, the sensation of her throat taking in his cock coaxing even more of his cum to spill, making him feel as though she would drain him completely. When he pulled out, a drop remained at the side of her lip. He slid it on to his thumb and placed it in front of her mouth. Her tongue briefly emerged to lick it away. The act was so lewd, so debauched as she knelt before him naked, after she had so eagerly used her mouth to satisfy his lust… and yet, even as she took that last drop of his semen into her mouth, she looked so innocent with her round, dazzling eyes never diverting from his face, her lips still slightly parted, looking as though she was seeking his approval…

God, she would be the death of him.

He practically jumped on top of her before he shoved his cock inside of her, making her yelp at his sudden intrusion.

“Already so wet for me,” he said as he squeezed her breast rough enough to draw blood. He was thrusting into her so hard that it was causing her free breast to noticeably bounce. “Were you really so desperate for me to pleasure you?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh, God, yes, I needed you!” He chuckled at her shameless desperation. It seemed even the most innocent of creatures were not immune to the consequences of deprivation of the flesh.

“Filthy little wench…” He pulled his claws from her breast and licked away the blood, groaning in satisfaction at the taste. “But I’ll allow it since I needed you as well.” He bent down and lapped up the blood directly from her breast as he grabbed onto her hips to keep her still, so that he could continue his brutal pace. His cock was hitting her so deep that he touched the entrance to her cervix. It was slightly painful, but each painful touch combined with overwhelming pleasure only brought her closer to her peak. He firmly rubbed his palm against her clitoris, knowing it would be the final push to send her over the edge.

She screamed as he made her cum hard, her passage tightening around him, the sensation making him release once more.

“So perfect,” he said with uneven breath as his seed flooded inside her. “My beautiful, perfect angel…” When he was finally spent, he laid his head on her breasts. Her heartbeat rang loud against his ear. She placed her hand on his head, letting her fingers linger in his ashen hair. “Have I comforted you adequately, my love?” She let out a light hum, exhausted. “I’m so happy I could make it up to you.”

Chapter Text

Beatrice sat in the courtyard, knitting blue yarn as she rested on a stone bench. Vergil was out fighting again today. It was something that she had started to become used to, but she still didn’t exactly look forward to those days. But after the many, many times he came home safely, she started to worry just a bit less than she used to.

She stopped for a moment to take the centermost teardrop on her necklace between her fingertips and smiled. This morning he kissed her before he left as usual. But as he left the bedroom, her hand lingered to her neck and she felt something strange. She looked down and saw a line of seven shimmering blue teardrops attached on a silver chain, the middle of which was larger than the rest. Quickly she went to follow him, but of course he was gone before she could thank him. She would make sure to do so as soon as he came home.

As she was beginning to start knitting a new row, she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

“Beatrice.” She suddenly looked up. Her mother? No, that would be impossible… but it sounded so clear.

“Beatrice, darling, where are you?”

“Mother?” she called. This time she knew she wasn’t just imaging things. She couldn’t have been; she could never forget the voice of her mother.

“Beatrice, darling, please come to me.”

“Mother!” she stood up, dropped her needles, and looked around, desperately trying to find the source of her mother’s voice.

“Beatrice, where are you?” She quickly ran to the gate, unhooking the latch and straying from the castle walls. She knew she shouldn’t wander outside the castle without supervision, but just this once she had to leave immediately.

“Where are you, Mother?”

“Beatrice, come to me, darling.” It was to the east. She ran as fast as she could, almost tripping on her skirt. “Beatrice, where are you?”

“I’m here, Mother! I’m coming to you!” She thought she would cry tears of joy when she heard her mother’s voice become louder. She couldn’t believe that she would get to see her mother’s face again, feel her warmth as she hugged her close again, feel her mother’s lips kiss her forehead again…

But her joy was killed when she was suddenly pinned on the ground by her neck. The back of her head throbbed when it hit the ground. When her vision cleared, she saw atop of her a terrifying looking man, with black eyes and a malicious grin on his face.  

“Well, well,” he said, “looks like Marianne’s spawn is the Demon King’s whore. You reek of his scent.” Beatrice’s eyes widened in pure terror; even after all these years, she recognized that sinister voice.

“You…” she said.

“Remember me, do you? How flattering. Who knew that after your worthless mother banished me here, I would have the one thing she loves most right in my grasp.” He tightened his grip on her throat, causing her to desperately gasp for air. “How sad that her death to protect what she loved so dearly will be in vain; once I cut open your heart and swallow up your power, I’ll be able to tear Vergil apart piece by piece. Of course…” He ran his free hand down her chest and brought his face dangerously close to hers. “You do look so much like your mother… she was so beautiful… I can see why Vergil likes to keep you in his bed. I may just have to have some fun with you before I harvest you… I promise that I’ll be as good a lay as your king. Perhaps I’ll be even better.” She tried to squirm away, but his grip was far too strong.

“Let… me…” she tried to say. She tried to get her legs to kick him and her hands to pull his away, but the lack of air made it hard for her to focus properly. The demon laughed at her resistance.

“Now, now, I don’t want you to waste all your energy at once, dear little thing; I want you to-“ his voice was suddenly cut off when his head was lopped from his body. A second later his remains disappeared into black ash. Beatrice coughed as she finally was able to breathe again. She gently rubbed her neck and looked up. Vergil was sheathing his blood stained blade, rage still burning in his eyes. She ran up to him, her face pressing into his chest and arms tightly linked around his waist.

“Oh, Vergil,” she sobbed, her tears staining his vest, “I’m so sorry… I know I shouldn’t have left the castle by myself. But my mother… I heard her calling to me…” He hushed her gently as he wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s all right,” he said in a soft voice, “you’re safe now… I won’t let anything happen to you…” He picked her up, letting her bring her arms around his neck. Her body shuddered against his. She cried a bit more against him as he carried her home.

When they arrived at the castle, he set her on the bed. She was still shaking. A moment later Trish arrived with tea, which calmed her some. He stroked her cheek, still hot and red from her crying.

“I’m not angry with you for straying from home,” he said. “I did not expect a demon to know who you were and use its knowledge against you. I just want you to promise me to not leave without anyone again.” She nodded.

“Vergil,” she said as she played with the center teardrop between her fingertips. “That demon… he said my mother banished him there and that he wanted to harvest my power so he could kill you… do you know what he meant by that?” Vergil had not realized he neglected to inform her that she was half angel until that moment. He thought that if he kept it secret, it would be the best for her safety. Still, perhaps he couldn’t hide it forever…

“Yes…” he replied. “Forgive me for not informing you earlier; I thought that keeping it hidden would be best, lest anyone found out and used it against you. But perhaps it is best you know the truth…”

He told her everything that he knew, that she was half angel and that she was an easy target for demons who knew of her angelic parentage, as she did not know how to use her powers to defend herself. He even confessed that he was tempted to harvest her power, but he fell in love with her instead. For a moment she said nothing as she processed everything he said.

“My mother… she was an angel… that was how she banished that demon here… whatever she did to do so, it killed her…” She looked back up at him. “There’s nothing else you know?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I see… thank you, Vergil, for telling me what you know.”

A few days passed since she recovered from the attack. Today was a peaceful day; Vergil spent the day studying and when evening arrived he joined his mate in the dining hall for dinner.

“Vergil,” she said.

“Yes, my love?”

“I was wondering if you’d be able to take me into a city in the next day or two; I’ve only ever been to the heart of Fortuna once when I was little.”

“I’m afraid I’ll be busy then. Perhaps Trish or V will be able to take you.”

“Ah… yes… of course…” She looked down at her empty plate. “I’m going to read a bit before I retire.” She sat up from her chair and left the hall. A moment later, Trish arrived, gathering the used dining ware. She sighed as she him gave a disapproving nod.

“You’re very intelligent, my lord,” she said. “And yet, at times you’re completely clueless.”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked as he stood up.

“She doesn’t want to go to a city just to go; she wants to be able to spend the day with you. All day, not just in the evening when you’re done fighting or studying. I know you’re so attached to your ambition of becoming more powerful, but surely it wouldn’t be such a detriment to your purpose to spend just one day with your mate.” For the first time in a very long time, he felt foolish. While he now always made sure he was home by dusk, he hadn’t even realized that most of hours of his days were spent away from his mate until now. So he immediately went to the library and told Beatrice he wouldn’t be busy after all.

“That’s wonderful,” she said as a smile spread across her face and her eyes lit up. Suddenly he saw her trying very hard to stifle her giggling. He tilted his head, a suspicious look on his face.

“Is something funny, my dear?”

“Oh, nothing… it’s just that… I hope we don’t encounter any spiders on our way.” Vergil looked confused for a moment as she could no longer resist the urge to laugh before releasing a quiet growl that he hoped he didn’t hear. He wasn’t angry at her, after all; he just wished his brother were here so that he could have a little talk with him.

He did not take her to Fortuna; too many memories lingered there. Instead, he took her to the neighboring kingdom of Concordia, a kingdom near a peaceful coastline. Luckily, this seemed to please her greatly, as she never saw the sea before in her life, and she marveled at the striking blue waves hitting the shore.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said as she watched the sea from the cliff. She had seen paintings of the ocean before, but they could not compare to actually seeing the vibrant blue water sparkle in the golden sunlight, the sound of waves crashing against the rocks, and the scent of salt lingering in the air and finding its way into her delicate brown hair as the light breeze blew it about.

There were musicians in the town square playing an upbeat tune in front of a grand fountain, which several townspeople were dancing to. Beatrice all but had to drag Vergil into the center to get him to dance with her. But he eventually relented when he saw her smiling and laughing as she danced.

Still, despite his lack of enthusiasm for activities such as dancing, he was nothing short of the perfect gentleman: He had his arm crooked so that she could hold onto it as they walked. He made sure her body was shielded from the streets with his own when they walked on the sidewalk. He would always open the door for her when she wanted to visit a shop to allow her to enter and exit before him. When he saw her admire a red dress several times, he insisted that he buy it for her, despite her multiple protests that five gold crowns were far too expensive for just a dress. He was not terribly partial towards red in many cases, particularly because of how much he associated red with his brother these days, but even he had to admit that she looked very attractive in the rich burgundy. He remained stoic as he usually did, and did not speak to anyone unless it was necessary, but nonetheless she could tell that he truly did want to be here with her to make her happy.

Vergil did not make it terribly apparent, but he adored seeing her like this; once she was melancholy and had little worth smiling for. Now she was full of life and wonder, her eyes lighting up with joy as she examined every new thing she saw. Even so, she also made sure she was always in arm’s reach of him, afraid that she would get lost if she didn’t. It seemed even after living among demons, even after becoming well accustomed to his power-hungry and merciless nature, her innocence remained… perhaps it always would.

A part of him wished she would leave her innocence behind; innocence was a weakness, for it was so easy to manipulate and prey on the innocent. He was afraid that innocence would lead to her doom, one he wouldn’t be able to save her from. And yet, another part of him cherished her innocence, how it allowed her to be everything he wasn’t, and yet allowed him love her, and she him...

It was the earnestness of her pure heart that had given him the push to allow himself the vulnerability of loving her, despite having the weaknesses that made him shun humanity. But though she would be devastated if she were to discover this, his adoration of her only deepened his contempt for humans; they were the one that had dismissed her and her mother the moment they laid eyes on them for the crime of simply wanting to live a quiet and peaceful life. They were the ones who continued to push her away and spread falsehoods about her even after her mother died. They were the ones who guiltlessly pulled her from her lonely and inoffensive life to send her to die so that they could continue living their own selfish and hypocritical existences. Humans were so overcome with the desire to call oneself more virtuous than the next, and yet were all too quick to shun and destroy the few whose souls were noble and true. And the only quality of hers that he resented was that the same purity and innocence he loved so much was also what made her refuse to let hatred cast a shadow in her heart… not even the human blood that ran through her veins could change that.

“Vergil?” she asked.

“Yes, my love?”

“Should we go home now?” The sunset glowed red against the sea, the once white clouds now a bright pink.

“Yes, let’s; it would be best not to come home too late.”

He held out his arm for her, which she hooked her hand around. Perhaps he could afford to spend another day like this.

Chapter Text

Vergil had been acting very unusually, to say the least: He had kissed Beatrice deeply after he arrived in the bedroom right after her, his usual indicator that he wanted to make love to her, but instead of taking her to bed, he practically threw her onto the sofa in front of the fireplace face down.

“Vergil!” she cried, but he ignored her as he pulled off her nightgown and threw it behind him. He adjusted her so that she was on her hands and knees. Then he suddenly began rubbing his finger against her clitoris at a rough pace, pressing firmly against it as he did, almost making her lose her balance on her elbows. She dug her nails into the pillow as he didn’t relent, the sensation quickly intensifying as it almost became painful.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much patience tonight, my dear,” he said as she felt his weight over her. He pushed his finger inside of her, growling in anticipation when he felt that she was prepared for him. She let out a high pitched yelp when she felt him abruptly thrust himself inside her.

She was used to him being rough with his lovemaking, something that she enjoyed greatly, but this time he mated with her as though he were completely insatiable; his hands gripped around her hips, the scales on his hands deeply pressing into her skin, as though he expected her to escape from him if he didn’t. His tight hold of her allowed him to thrust deep inside her passage, causing her to gasp and cry out every time she felt the head of his cock hit her cervix.

She moaned as her first climax erupted through her body, the contraction of her walls around him making him snarl as her entrance became overwhelmed with his seed. But when he finished, he didn’t stop; his harsh pace never relented, even though releasing inside of her was normally enough for him to be sated for the night. He leaned his head into her neck and bit into it, another orgasm quickly approaching her as he felt his tongue licking the wound clean of her blood.

“My dear, sweet angel,” he said as he squeezed her breast, his claws pricking at the flesh, “so lost in the dark depths of sin. But I don’t think you want to be found, do you?” She didn’t have a chance to answer when she cried out as she hit her peak again, more of his semen filling her past her limits.

Two more times they both came, and still he was not satisfied even as a large stain consisting of both of their cum had formed on the sofa. After her fourth orgasm she was completely overstimulated, feeling more pain than pleasure as he continued thrusting. Her voice had become hoarse from her cries and moans, and her body ached from holding this position for so long as he never stopped pushing in and out of her.

“Vergil, please,” she whimpered as she tried not to cry.

“Just once more,” he said with ragged breath, “I promise.” He kissed her temple as he thrust a few more times before he released again, this time finished for the night. When he finally withdrew from her, her body gave out beneath her as their fluids rushed from her body. She lay limp as she steadied her breathing.

Her body was so exhausted that she didn’t think she could even make it to the bed. Luckily, he gently picked her up and carried her there, making sure she was comfortable as he covered her.

“You won’t have to worry about this tomorrow,” he assured her as he stroked her cheek.

“Perhaps,” she replied, “but I will have to worry about explaining the stain on the sofa.” He chuckled at her response.

“I’ll clean it up before I join you. Just get some rest.”

The next day she expected things to be normal. But when she woke up, Vergil was nowhere to be found. When she asked V of his whereabouts, he said that he had been fighting since before sunrise. He said he didn’t know when she asked him why. She was worried, and hoped that nothing too horrible had happened.

“Come now, my lord, surely I could please you more than that little waif you have at home.”

Vergil slaughtered the seductive demon the moment he felt her hand touch his face. He had hoped his problem would have been resolved the previous night, but it only seemed to make it worse; he was awoken in the middle of the night by his instincts demanding that he mate with her again. And she looked so alluring, completely naked in his arms, so small and soft… But she was fast asleep and so exhausted from their earlier session that he tried to ignore it. Unfortunately, ignoring his instincts only caused them to become stronger, to the point it was physically painful to withhold it. So he decided he would try to expel his urges with fighting, hoping it would distract him and release his tension. But as the hours passed, his forced deprivation of sex created more problems for him; his body was constantly releasing sexual pheromones that were attracting countless female demons, all wanting to mate with him and have the pleasure of laying with the Demon King. What he hated most was that a small part of him was tempted to indulge in their sensual ploys, knowing that they could tolerate relieving a demon’s urges.

As the afternoon arrived and his urges only becoming stronger and harder to contain, he made his way home, making sure to avoid Beatrice and Trish. As he forced his body to take him upstairs, he encountered V, who rushed to his side when he saw the tense state he was in.

“My lord, are you all right?” V asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Vergil said as he breathed heavily. “Just please, do not tell Beatrice where I am, and make sure both her and Trish do not go anywhere near me.” He dragged himself to a spare bedroom, where he locked himself inside and collapsed on the bed, trying his damnedest to keep his mind off his urges.

He hated that he had to hide from Beatrice and not tell her why, but he knew that if she found out, she would insist that she give him the release he needed, something that he was not sure she could do without him hurting her. No, he couldn’t put her in danger, not when he was the one that was supposed to protect her. She truly was too wonderful for Earth…

It was why he so intently wanted to breed with her. He knew she had been drinking an elixir weekly to prevent pregnancy for the time being, but even so he could hardly wait for the day her womb would swell and become a nest for his child, her small breasts growing full and heavy with milk that would nourish it when it arrived in the world. She would look so beautiful with her belly round and firm, knowing that the life they created together was growing inside of her… When she was fertile, he would mate with her often to fill her with so much of his seed that it would be impossible for her to not become pregnant…

“Damn it!” he shouted as his claws punctured the pillow. He was supposed to distract himself from such thoughts, not indulge in them…

“Knock, knock,” his brother’s voice called as he knocked on the door.

“Damn it, Dante, not now!”

“Relax, Verge, I’m just here to help; V told me you weren’t doing so well.” Dante opened the door and entered the room. He was briefly taken aback when he saw Vergil’s body tense and rigid from forcing himself to keep his impulses sealed up. “Whoa… you do not look okay.”

“Yes, brother, I am quite aware of that.”

“Let me guess: Your ‘put a baby in her’ instincts are going insane.”

“Yes, if you insist on calling it that.”

“Does Beatrice know?”

“…No.”

“You really gotta tell her.”

“Absolutely not; she’ll insist on trying to help me, even if I were to tell her that I could gravely injure her.”

“Well, what do plan on doing, locking yourself in here until it passes?”

“If that’s what I need to do to keep her safe, then so be it.”

“And you’re going to do that every month?”

“I don’t know… but I’m going to do everything I can to ensure her safety.”

“I mean… I can’t tell you what to do. But if you ask me, you’re probably hurting her more by not being open with her, even if you say it’s for her own good, honesty is the best policy, and all. If nothing else, she’s going to keep asking about it no matter how many times you ignore it.”

Vergil would never dream of saying it aloud, but perhaps Dante was right; Beatrice valued honesty, and she would certainly be confused and frustrated if he constantly kept something hidden from her. And if he didn’t tell her now on his own terms, there’s a chance that she would find out through him unintentionally hurting her. He would just have to tell her and relentlessly refuse her help, no matter how many times she insisted otherwise.

The sun was beginning to set and Beatrice had still not heard a word from Vergil. She flipped through the demonology book several times that day, hoping to find a hint as to what could be making him so reclusive, but she found nothing. She had asked both V and Trish if they knew what was happening, but both said they had no idea.

“My lady,” V said as he approached her in the library.

“V,” she said, “have you heard any word from Vergil?”

“Yes; he has asked you to see him in the bedroom immediately.”

“Thank you.”

Beatrice wasted no time going to the bedroom. Quickly she opened the door and shut it behind her.

“Vergil?” she called. Her eyes found him laid on the bed. But there was something unusual about him. She came closer and gasped when she could see him clearly: His body was tense and rigid, looking as though he were in pain. His eyes were burning red, and a few scales had formed on his face, as well as his hands being completely covered. Even at the distance she was standing at, she could feel the warmth of energy emanating from him. “Vergil…” she reached her hand out to him as she stepped closer.

“Don’t come any closer,” he said when she made the first step. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What’s wrong?” He shifted a bit, trying to calm himself even a small amount.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, a demon’s physiological needs can be… different from a human’s. And one of these needs is a demon’s heat cycle.

“It’s a time when every demon of breeding age’s sexual urges increase. Up until now it was easy to tolerate; laying with a woman every day during that period was enough to keep me sated. Unfortunately, now that I’ve been mating with you for some time my body has grown accustomed to your scent and wants me to breed with you; since your fertility window is open, my heat cycle is stronger than it’s ever been.” So this was why had pushed her beyond her limits last night… “Ideally, this would be a blissful time for mated demons, allowing them an ideal opportunity to procreate while also experiencing increased carnal pleasure.”

“Is there something wrong now?”

“Have you already forgotten what I’ve done to you last night?”

“But I can handle it every night as much as you need; it can’t be longer than a week.”

“That’s the problem; mating with you normally isn’t able sate me. It only seem to give me temporary relief, and intensifies my needs later.”

“Then what will help you?”

“As much as I hoped mating with you as we’re both accustomed to would be enough, it seems to only way to pass this is to mate with you while I’m in my Devil Trigger form.”

“What is that?”

“It’s a very powerful form that allows me to use my abilities to the fullest.”

“Then mate with me in that form if that what will help you.”

“No. It’s all too easy to for me to hurt you while in that form, let alone during a heat cycle when I can quickly lose control.”

“But you’ve left blemishes on me before and I’ve recovered fully every time.”

“This is far different; I could severely injure you and not even realize until too late. And with you being both human and angel, I don’t know if there would be any unforeseen consequences.” Beatrice bit her lip. She desperately wanted to help him, but he rejected every offer.

“Then… perhaps just during this time you could mate with another demon to-“

“Never,” he said quickly cutting her off. “I will never be unloyal to you.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?!”

“The only thing you can do is keep your distance from me until this passes.”

“So every month I can’t even touch the man I love? Or talk to or even be in the same room as you?”

“If that’s what must be done to keep you safe, then it’s something we must both endure.” Beatrice held back her tears of anger, resisting the urge to run out of the room. How could he so willingly push her away when he said he loved her? She knew he was concerned for her safety, but he wanted nothing to do with any of her solutions. But as frustrating as it was to see him reject her without a second thought, she couldn’t stay angry at him for long when she saw the regret in his eyes; this pained him as much as it pained her. It looked like he was immensely craving to touch her, but barely allowed himself to even look at her. Perhaps she would have to be the one to push him in the right direction…

She reached behind her waist and untied her waist ties, letting them fall loose when the bow was undone. Then she took her fingers to the buttons at the front of her dress, exposing more of her chest. Vergil quickly knew what she was planning and closed his eyes while turning his head to the side. But she continued, letting the dress fall at her feet when her bodice was completely unbuttoned. She stepped out of her shoes and pulled the white chemise over her head and let it join her remaining clothes. The only piece of clothing left was her underwear, which she stepped out of while looking up at him. His eyes were still shut, as though he were trying to fall asleep, but she knew he was well aware of her state of undress.

She wanted to climb on top of him so he could feel her weight atop him, but he would probably push her off before she could. Then she remembered him saying he could smell when she was aroused… what she was about to do was nerve-wracking, but perhaps this was what it would take to lower his resistance. After all, he couldn’t ignore all of his senses.

She sat in on of the chairs in front of the window, making sure her legs were adequately spread. Slowly she ran her hand down to her entrance and gently touched her clitoris, jerking away and gasping when she felt the sensitivity. She tried again, this time forcing herself to stay still at the moment of contact. She used her finger to massage it, her breath becoming heavy as the pleasure increased. Her free hand lingered to her breasts, squeezing it firmly. As her breathing became increasingly labored, she looked over to him. His head was still turned away from her, but still he remained. Was it because he was afraid if he moved it would tempt him to ravish her? Did he want to enjoy what she was offering him despite his better judgement? Regardless the reason, she was thankful he remained here.

She moved her finger to her slit, surprised at how wet she had already become. She could not stifle her moan when she inserted her finger inside. She pushed in another finger and starting maneuvering them in and out, trying to imitate the way moved his own fingers when he pleasured her like this. The volume of her moans increased as she thrust her fingers faster and harder, rubbing against the regions that made her legs weak. Soon her climax was approaching, and she accommodated her body’s needs by pushing herself to her limit, her head thrown back and her other hand vigorously stimulating her clit. She was so close, her hand soaked with her more lustful desires…

Then without warning her arm was tightly grabbed at the wrist and her body was roughly thrown onto the bed. She was thankful that the mattress was there to cushion her landing. In an instant Vergil was on top of her, a dominating growl rising from his throat as his face was almost close enough to kiss. His claws dug into her shoulders like sturdy thorns. A few seconds later she saw him regain composure, if only barely.

“Once I start,” he warned, “I won’t be able to stop.” They both knew he was far too gone now; he was giving her one last chance to escape.

“Please…” was all she had to say. She needed him now as much as he needed her. He left the bed and took a few steps away from it.

There was a sudden burst of blue light that filled the room, which she could see even with her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she thought she would faint at what she saw.

Standing before her was Vergil, but had she not known she would have thought he was a strange demon who wanted to devour her whole; he already towered over her as it was, but now she felt as though she were the height of a child. His imposing figure was completely covered in black armor-like plates, a blue “V” glowing at the center of his chest. His eyes that she found so striking had now become slits, and his mouth was framed with sharp, dagger-like fangs, his head crowned with a large set of horns. She could see enormous wings attached to his back, claws extending from the points. The energy radiating from him was so strong that the whole room became warmer. When he approached her, she instinctively crawled back onto the bed until she was pressed against the back. Her entire body was shaking in fear, but she managed to reach out a hand to his face. The plates felt leathery to the touch and felt warm against her skin. Then she leaned forward and kissed him, the warm and loving gesture a stark contrast to this form whose purpose was meant to tear to shreds anything that got in its way. The kiss was as much a sign of her unconditional love for him as much as it was her way of becoming accustomed to this terrifying form.

She lay back down and let him climb above her, and it took all of her courage to not avert her eyes from his face. But instead of taking her, he lowered his head to her entrance, her legs shivering at the intense heat. When she felt something long and wet enter her already extremely sensitive passage, she dug her heels into his shoulders and cried out. She had been so close to climax as it was, and his strange, but marvelous feeling tongue was going to push her there at any second. She could feel bumps and indentations rubbing along her walls, and his slick tongue reached deep inside places that she never wanted him to stop touching.

Soon she felt her body’s tension released as she came hard against his tongue, his ravenous drinking of her fluids prolonging the pleasure. When she finally came back to her senses, she saw his extended tongue lustfully lick away the remaining juices off his mouth, the shamelessly debauched sight making her aroused all over again.

Slowly he positioned himself over her, making sure his hands were on either side of her so his talons wouldn’t hurt her. She felt something heavy and warm against her leg and she relaxed herself as best as she could. Then she felt something firm and warm snaking itself under her back and wrapping around her waist. She looked down and saw a scale covered tail, his way of safely embracing her in this form. She heard a low, inhuman growl as she felt him begin to push inside of her.

She screamed as he entered her completely, his enormous size stretching her body to its limits. Tears streamed down her eyes when he began thrusting, but she wrapped her arms around his neck as his tail tightened its grip of her. He grunted as he slid in and out of her, her body a tight squeeze for him even with how wet she was, the restrictions not allowing him to go very fast. Soon her passage became wetter, allowing her more comfort.

But the increased wetness didn’t come from her: it came from him. She was used to his cock releasing a bit of fluid when it was erect, but it was always just a drop. This time he was releasing almost as much fluid as she was, as though his body sensed the extreme difference in size between the two and accommodated accordingly. Soon the pain melted into immense pleasure, and she dug her nails into his plates, high-pitched moans and gasps releasing from her mouth.

She could feel ridges not unlike the ones on his tongue firmly and deliciously rubbing inside of her, the tightness of her walls squeezing around him making the sensation unbelievably pleasurable. She could tell he was enjoying this as well as she felt his hot breath against her neck and his tail coiled even tighter around her. She looked down and she could see a lump protruding and receding with each thrust, wetness pouring from between her legs as though there was no end to it.

“Mine,” he growled. His voice was deeper than usual, and distorted as though there were two voices speaking at once.

“Yes…” she moaned, “only yours… forever…” He thrust as hard and fast as her body would allow him to and his tail tightened around her almost suffocatingly so.

He roared out as his seed shot inside her, the sheer force of it entering her triggering her own orgasm. She screamed again, this time in pure pleasure as she felt his semen fill her so fully that it was already running down her leg even though he had only just came and his cock filling her so completely. Then she felt a sudden whoosh of warm air across her body. She looked up and saw his great wings fully extended, their blue interior glowing brightly as it lit up the room.

“Beautiful…” she murmured in awe. A moment later she felt them cover her like a blanket as he finished, lowering himself as much as he could without hurting her. When he withdrew fluid poured from her body as though a dam inside of her had been released. As soon as he pulled out he reverted to human form, at long last allowing his arms to wrap around her as he rolled her to her side and held her close.

“Are you all right?” he urgently asked.

“I… I’m fine,” she said.

“Are you hurt?”

“No… that was… wonderful… what about you? Have you been satisfied?”

“Yes… for now. I don’t know if I’ll have the urge again tomorrow or any time during this. But I’ll know it’ll come again next month.” She reached up to stroke his cheek.

“Then we’ll do this again… however much you need to.” He kissed her forehead and nuzzled her. “Please… stay here until I fall asleep.”

“Of course.”

Chapter Text

Today Vergil took Beatrice to the kingdom of Pragma, famous for its highly skilled artisans in almost every trade, from perfume crafters of a menagerie of aromas, to elaborate fashion artists, to jewelry makers who used the finest gems and metals. As Beatrice purchased some vibrant thread and lavish fabric, she came across a large painting on the walls of a church. It was of a woman in a white dress and veil embracing a man in royal regalia with a kiss, the morning sun cascading over them. The metal plaque read that the couple were a prince and princess who fell in love despite their kingdom ensnared in a decade long war. So the two married in secret and founded the kingdom, a sign of the triumph of their love against all odds.

Beatrice remembered her ideals of marriage before Vergil: Her mother told her fairy tales of princes and princesses who would fall in love and face adversities, with each story ending in the two marrying and living happily ever after. Ever since she was a child she hoped that she could find that kind of love in her life one day, with her mother warning her that a man may use words of love to trick her, and would end up breaking her heart in the end. Even as she grew into adulthood and was well aware of how horribly timid she was, she had hoped that she would meet a man who was as shy as her that would love her. Or perhaps even a kind and confident man would woo her despite her shyness and make her his wife. Instead, she became the mate of a Demon King…

She had always thought that marriage was beautiful, a vow of love and loyalty in front of God. A part of her did miss the fact that she never got to have a wedding, as it was something that meant so much to her. But it mattered little when she was bonded to a man who has given her more love than she could ever ask for.

“Do you wish for me to marry you?” Vergil asked as he took her hand in his.

“No, no,” she quickly said. “I was just admiring this painting, that’s all.” Vergil smiled, knowing how she never wanted to make it apparent that she wanted something. But he had known her well enough to know better.

“My dear, I would be very happy to be able to call you my wife.” He reached into his breast pocket and removed something from it. He took her left hand and she watched as he slipped a silver ring adorned with a diamond onto her slender finger. For a moment she had no idea of what to say as she watched the sunlight reflect off the diamond’s sparkling surface. “Yes”? “Thank you”? None of those seemed the right thing to say. So instead she hugged him tight as laughed out of uncontainable joy.

The wedding was held two months since that day. Beatrice’s dress was a pure white gown with a full, voluminous skirt and a bodice that complemented her slim waist. Her head was crowned with a row of blue roses that topped a translucent veil bordered with lace that reached her hips, and her hair was elaborately styled and pinned. The chain of teardrops framed her exposed pale neck, the radiant blue gems matching perfectly with her wedding outfit. She did, of course, object to wearing something so extravagant at first, since it would only be worn for one day and for such a tiny number of people, but Vergil insisted that she free herself from such limitations for something that meant so much to her.

The ceremony took place in the Pragma church where he said he wanted her to be his wife. She was admitted she was nervous about the wedding, for she was afraid there would be some sort of divine retribution the moment he, a half demon, stepped into the church. Luckily, no such incident occurred.

As she was preparing to step through the doors of the church, she suddenly felt a crushing amount of guilt; she was marrying a demon in a house of God. She felt as though she were committing a horrible act of blasphemy, to be a part of such a holy act with a one of the damned. And she was an angel, at that, someone who was meant to be a guardian of heaven and humanity. Would she be horribly punished for such sinful acts?

But when the doors opened and saw her mate standing before her, looking at her as though she were the most beautiful woman in the world, all of her fears seemed to dissolve. His usual blue coat was replaced with a formal black one, reminding her of the drawings of princes she saw in books of fables. She smiled and began walking towards him.

Dante, Trish, and V were the witnesses to their marriage, with Dante’s first remark to the news being “wait, my brother is actually stooping so low as to participate in a human custom?” Vergil had used is oft utilized pseudonym of “Gilver”, as there was a good chance the priest officiating the ceremony would recognize the name of the Demon King. She didn’t mind, though, for she was marrying him, not his name.

They exchanged vows that were sealed with silver rings and a kiss. When the priest told them that they were husband and wife, her soul felt as light as air as Vergil cupped her face, leaned in, and kissed her on the lips.

They returned home shortly afterwards to have a small celebration before the day ended. Dante made a few teasing jabs at his brother, most of which were along the lines of the ferocious demon now being practically human, but Vergil pretended he heard none of them, determined not to enter any physical altercations on such an important day for his mate.

“You know,” Dante said as he approached Beatrice when she was alone, “it really is something how much my brother has changed in less than a year.”

“How so?” she asked.

“Verge always said that the reason why he’s stayed here for all these years was because this was the best way for him to gain more power so he’ll never be helpless to save anyone again. But to be honest, I wondered if he even remembered why he spent all his time on becoming the most powerful being in the world. Now instead of staying awake and fighting for days at a time he’s always making sure he’s home by sundown and actually staying there until morning. I swear I’ve even caught him crack a smile once or twice too. I think you came into his life at just the right time.” Beatrice smiled as she gazed at her silver band. Perhaps he came into her life at just the right time as well.

Late into the night Vergil carried his new wife into the bedroom. When she sat in front of the vanity, he helped her remove each pin from her hair, the locks gradually falling as the pins were set aside.

“Vergil,” she said as she removed the roses and veil, “thank you so much for today. I know you don’t have much love for humans, but today was more than I could ever ask for.”

“My dear, I would hope you would have known by now how much your happiness means to me.” He kissed her neck, already exciting her for what would soon happen.

After each pin was removed from her hair she stood up and let him unlace her dress. His movements were deliberately slow and prolonged, even though he wanted nothing more than to rip the gown from her body. As she was about to ask him to hurry, the dress fell at her feet, leaving her bare back exposed to him. He lightly brushed his fingertips against the skin, the cold, subtle touch making her gasp in anticipation.

“Already so eager?” he asked as he turned her around to face him. “I suppose some things will never change.” He quickly kissed her as he scooped her into his arms, Beatrice lovingly embracing him. He laid her on the bed and made quick work of her underwear. He kissed her neck again, trailing his lips down to her breasts. She moaned with she felt his fingers rub across her slit, her entrance already becoming wet from his touch. Then to her surprise she was flipped over so that she was straddling him.

“I want you to start tonight,” he said.

“I… I don’t know what I should do.”

“Do whatever feels right, my love.” He leaned up and kissed her before laying still again. She took a deep breath and unfastened his pants, releasing his cock in her hands. She heard him lightly groan when she stroked it gently, and she felt his hand squeeze at her thigh. Hesitantly, she held it in place as she lowered herself onto him, sighing heavily as she slowly took in the entire length. After getting used to this new position he raised herself some before lowering to the base again, repeating the motion a few times to get used to it.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised as he groaned at her movements. She continued her pace, closing her eyes and focusing on how good each movement felt. But soon she needed more, and she began bouncing up and down around him, the pleasure encouraging her to continue. His hand reached up to grope at her breast, and she held his hand as he did so. Eventually she wanted to move faster, but she couldn’t push her body to do so, and she was beginning to become tired.

As though reading her mind, he grabbed her hips and pulled her down as he thrust upwards, making her yelp at how much deeper he was able to go.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked with an unsteady breath as he controlled her actions. “For me to show you that I can ravage you in any position?”

“Y-Yes,” she replied as the pleasure was quickly amplified. “You feel so…so good inside of me.” He chuckled before grabbing her waist as he sat at the edge of the bed so she was now sitting on his lap. She firmly wrapped his arms around his neck as he continued bounding her hips up and down. She loved how easily he could do this, his strength easily able to take control of and dominate her. She squeezed her legs tighter around him when he started moving her faster and harder, and she could feel his breath becoming quicker and heavy at her neck.

She loudly came in his lap, and tensely embraced him when she felt his teeth sink into her shoulder as he released. He could feel their fluids running down his cock when he licked at her wound. He gently rubbed her back as she fell limp in his arms.

“Beatrice…” he muttered in her ear. “My dear, beautiful wife…”

Chapter Text

Vergil sat in the library reading while his mate sewed at a pair of white gloves. It was a quiet evening with none of them saying much for some time, the two of them simply enjoying being in one another’s presence. Suddenly the silence was broken when Beatrice spoke up.

“Vergil,” she said. She was hesitant to continue, afraid of what his answer would be. “I want to have a child.” He quickly turned his head towards her. At least she knew she got his attention. "I’ve been wanting one for some time, but I also wanted to wait for a bit, to make sure I was ready to ask. But now I think I am.”

For a moment he said nothing. He had wanted to have child with her as well, someone who could proudly carry his bloodline and a life to care for that was as much a part of her as it was him. But hearing her say those words seemed to trigger a whirlwind of fears: A child was completely helpless, especially a newborn, and he would absolutely need to protect it and his mate. It would be so easy for a child to fall into danger, or even death, especially one that carried his blood. And would she be able to carry his child safely? His own mother, of course, was able to safely carry and deliver him and his brother, but what if her body reacted disastrously to a demon’s offspring growing inside of it because of her angel lineage?

“Vergil,” she pleaded, “please say something.”

“I… I would be more than happy to father a child with you,” he finally said. “But I worry if it will be safe.”

“Yes… I have thought about that. But perhaps if we search we can find out if I can become pregnant.” She was afraid that he would refuse, saying that he didn’t want to risk it, but was relieved when he walked over to her, bent down, and kissed her forehead.

“We can start as soon as possible.” Right after he said those words V ran into the library, an urgent look on his face.

“My lord,” he said, “I apologize if I’m interrupting anything, but you and her ladyship should come to the throne room right away. Your brother has found an intruder.” Vergil quickly made his way the throne room, with Beatrice following right behind him.

When they entered the throne chamber they saw Dante standing in front of the grand throne, with what looked like someone crouched next to him.

“Hey, bro,” Dante said with a wave of his hand. “Thought you’d might like to see this: she’s an angel who said she came here to kill you. Course, she didn’t get past me, but she put up a good fight, I’ll give her that.” Vergil hand flew to the hilt of his sword, something that did not go unnoticed by Beatrice.

“Please, Vergil,” she said as she held his arm, “don’t do anything unnecessary.” He said nothing as the two faced the woman kneeling in front of the throne. She was a pretty young woman with short black hair and a pristine white dress. Despite her arms being tightly bound in rope, she showed no signs of stopping her struggling as she scowled at the Demon King. Vergil unsheathed Yamato and pointed the tip directly at her face.

“You will spare no detail as to why you’re here,” he threatened, “or else you will not make it back to Heaven alive.” Not once did the angel look intimidated as she continued to stare the Demon King down.

“You will never scare me,” she spat, “you power-hungry monster.”

“I will not ask you again: speak.” He placed the tip of the blade almost close enough to cut into her chin.

“Fine. I’m not just here to kill you; I’m here to rescue her.” She looked to Beatrice, an answer no one expected.

“M-Me?” Beatrice asked.

“Yes.” The angel’s voice softened. “My name is Lady. I was a friend of your mother, Marianne. I’m here to get you out of here.”

“You will do no such thing,” Vergil growled as he allowed the tip of the blade to draw a blood.

“Don’t make yourself look like the hero,” Lady hissed as she backed away from the sword. A bright red cut was left on her skin. “It wasn’t enough for you to be the king of this realm of the damned, but you needed to kill an angel too, to satisfy your lust for power. But instead you used trickery to make her submit to you, and defiled and mutilated her pure soul by tainting it with a part of yours. Then to satisfy your lust for flesh you took her chastity and made her think you loved her, knowing how easy it would be to manipulate her. And then you decided to mock God by marrying her, as if it’s your way of bragging to the heavens that you’ve successfully taken one of its angels as your slave.”

“Hey, Verge, I don’t think she likes you very much,” Dante remarked.

“This doesn’t concern you, demon.”

“Lady,” Beatrice said, “whatever you believe, I don’t need to be rescued; I’ve been living happily with Vergil.”

“Beatrice, you can’t believe that; you have to remember he’s a demon, the most powerful one of all, at that, and he’s tricking you into staying with him. He’s probably getting a sickening thrill from keeping an angel as his slave.”

“And where would you have her go if you took here?” Vergil said as rage flowed through his veins. “Somewhere else where she’ll be treated with nothing but disdain? Where she’ll live in solitude and sorrow? Or perhaps a place where she’ll be burnt alive to the bone for being a heretic? But I suppose that means nothing to you as long as your conscience feels at ease for taking her away from a demon.”

“Don’t you dare act as if you know better, you worthless scum. You know nothing of our ways.”

“Silence, angel, or I’ll harvest you here and now,” Vergil shouted as the blade landed dangerously close to her neck.

“Vergil, please don’t!” Beatrice cried as she tugged at his arm. Vergil removed the blade from Lady’s neck, but did not loosen his grip on the hilt.

“The only reason why you’re still sitting here is because of her; don’t make me regret it.” Beatrice bent down to the angel so that she was at the same eye level as her.

“Lady, you said you were a friend of my mother’s; could you tell me more about her?”

“Whatever you want to know I’ll tell you. But first, I want to be released.” Vergil grumbled under his breath, but he cut apart Lady’s binds without Beatrice having to ask him.

“If you try anything, not even Beatrice will be able to save you,” he warned as she stood to her feet. She glared at him before following Beatrice into a parlor. When they took their seats in front of the fireplace, Vergil sat right across from his mate, his eyes never diverting from Lady, as though he was waiting for her to grab Beatrice and run.

“Do you need anything?” Beatrice asked. “I can make you tea.”

“No, no, that’s not necessary,” Lady quickly replied. “What is it you wanted to know?”

“Well… there’s still so much I don’t know about my mother that I don’t even know where to start.”

“Then perhaps the best place to start is why she came to Earth.”

Marianne gazed at the elaborate diamond necklace at her neck as she sat at the window seat, the sun’s rays making the gems sparkle. She had been seeing Alain, a handsome and wealthy baron, for the past 6 months and she already felt as though love was beginning to blossom between them. He was a man who many women were enamored with, something that he happily took advantage of, but when by mere chance his eyes met hers, he suddenly looked at her as he never looked at another woman before. She told herself not to become attached to him because of his history, but he spent more time alone with her than he had with any woman before, and treated her in ways that he never had with any other woman. He didn’t treat her as one of the many women he would frequent for casual affection, but as someone that he could see by his side forever.

“Still have your heart set on that human?” a man’s voice said. She looked over and saw a man with brown hair and an almost condescending look on his face. She adjusted herself so her body was closed off to him.

“Yes, Zephyr,” she said. She knew that he desired her, for he made it quite apparent many times. But she did not like his haughty attitude, especially as he clearly saw himself and other angels as superior to humans. Still, he was respected as a highly skilled and effective elite among the angels. He sat closer to her than she would have liked, making her shift away from him as much as she could.

“Why would you give up your place here just to settle among the lowly rabble?”

“Love transcends all, Zephyr, something that an angel should be well aware of.”

“Do you really think that rake loves you? You can’t see that he’s clearly stringing you along? If only you would accept my love, you could stay here by my side forever.” His face was mere inches from hers now, as though he were trying to kiss her. He didn’t pull away even as she turned her face from his.

“Marianne,” Lady’s voice called from the entryway, “a word please.” Marianne quickly stood from the seat and followed Lady into the hallway, leaving Zephyr behind.

“Thank you,” Marianne said, “you came at just the right time as usual.”

“Of course. But as much as I don’t like Zephyr, he does have a point about Alain; I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to consider marrying a man like him.”

“I understand your concern, but you should see the way he looks at me, and the way he speaks to me; he said that when he first met me, he felt as though he had experienced a miracle right then and there. I’ve never heard him say anything like that about any other woman.” She could tell that Lady still had her doubts, but she didn’t press the issue any longer. Lady had seen the progress of Marianne’s and Alain’s relationship since the beginning, and it was clear how strongly Marianne felt of the human.

One month later Alain proposed to Marianne, which she gleefully accepted. She knew that she would see much less of her fellow angels, for an angel would have to forfeit their place in heaven should they choose to marry a human, but she was willing to make the sacrifice if it meant marrying and starting a family with the man she loved. Three months later, the two were married in an elaborate ceremony, and their wedding night was spent in the bedroom of his grand estate. Six blissful months were spent by his side, and on the fifth she beamed with joy when she discovered she was pregnant with his child. Day and night she fantasized of the family they would raise, and she cycled through names for the child before she fell asleep.

One night she was completely restless, feeling as though she had been tossing and turning for hours. Her husband was not in bed with her, for he was off on a business trip. After adjusting the pillows for the fifth time, she decided to take a walk around the estate, hoping it would tire her out enough to fall asleep.

Just as she stepped out of the bedroom door, she heard the faint sound of a woman’s giggle. She approached the railing and gasped at what she saw: Alain’s arm was wrapped around a young blonde woman’s, who left kisses on his jaw that he eagerly accepted.

“Oh, Alain,” she said, “you’re such a tease.” Marianne swiftly stepped down the stairs until she stood right in front of them, her hands clenched into fists.

“What is this?” she asked with a voice full of shock, anger, and devastation.

“Oh, Marianne,” Alain casually said as the woman continued to kiss him, “I thought you’d be asleep by now, my dear.”

“Don’t call me that,” Marianne spat, “not when you do this without shame.”

“Come now, my dear, surely you didn’t expect me to limit myself to just one woman just because I’m married.”

“You pledged your love and loyalty to me! And now you stray from that loyalty while I’m carrying your child! Does our love mean nothing to you?!”

“Of course I love you. That’s why I married you, so that I could have a legitimate heir with the woman I love. But just because I’m married, doesn’t mean I should stop the recreations that I so enjoy. But if this agreement isn’t what you were hoping for, you’re free to leave whenever you please.”

Marianne felt as though the entire world came to a stop. Her hand slowly came up to cover her mouth. Though she remained standing, she felt as though her body was falling into a deep, dark abyss, the light above becoming smaller and smaller with each passing second. She felt like wailing to the heavens, but only her shallow breath escaped her lips, and then her hands fell limp at her sides. How could the same man who said those wonderful words to love to her also be the one whose arms were around another woman and be so willing to chase her away?

More than anything she wanted to be his wife, but how could she willing stay by the side of a man who refused to be faithful to her? He had torn her heart to a million pieces and threw them all into her face. If she left him she would be alone in the world, and so would her child. But somehow such a fate seemed much more bearable than having to see the remains of her broken dreams every day.

“If that is what you’re offering me,” she said as she forced herself not to cry, “then I will leave your life forever.”

Two days later all of her belongs were gathered together, and she left the home where so many of her dreams were born. A part of her hoped he would change his mind and chase after her, begging for her to forgive him and swearing to change his ways. Alas, no such thing happened. He didn’t even say “goodbye”. She sold off every trinket that her once beloved gifted to her, the memories that came with them too painful to look at. She even sold her wedding ring, the gold band now worthless to her. She used the money to rent a tiny room in a large complex, which she was luckily able to reside in the same day. Then at long last, she allowed herself to collapse on the bed and sob as loud as she could.

After a few minutes of crying she heard a knock at the door. She dragged herself from the bed, expecting one of the other tenants to be there to complain of the noise. Instead, she practically squeezed the air out of Lady’s lungs in her embrace.

“Oh, Lady…” she sighed as the tears continued to flow. Lady returned the embrace and gently guided her to the bed. “I’m such a fool…”

“No, not at all,” Lady said as she gently rubbed Marianne’s shoulder. “There is no one to blame but him.” Marianne sniffled and wiped her nose with the handkerchief Lady offered her.

“What am I going to do now?”

“You can return to Heaven, if you wish. But the child will have to remain on earth.” Marianne rubbed her hand against her womb, still not yet swollen enough for most people to notice. The thought of abandoning her child gave her an immense feeling of guilt. She knew that her child’s human side prevented it to coming to Heaven with her, for the only humans that could enter were the souls of the deceased, even if half of their blood was an angel’s. It would be unfair to leave her child to an uncertain fate on Earth. But would she be able to care for it if all she felt was misery? When it would be a constant reminder of the love that was ripped away from her? A child deserved better than that.

“I… I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to decide now. Should you decided to leave Earth, just call out for me, and I’ll take you back home.”

In the coming months she was employed at a factory where she sewed formal men’s shirts with several other women. She heard the other workers gossip about her, giving her judgmental glances as she walking past them, particularly when the swelling in her belly became much more noticeable.

“Poor thing,” they would say. “But what did she expect?”

At last the day of her child’s birth arrived. The only ones to accompany her during her six hour labor were two midwives. After the hours of agonizing pain, she finally heard a sharp, high-pitched cry. She looked up and saw through her teary vision a tiny figure squirming and crying in one of the midwife’s arms.

“Well now,” the midwife said to the other, “what should we do with her?”

“Give her to me,” Marianne said, the words being released before her mind could catch up. The midwife looked surprised for a moment, but she gently placed the child in her mother’s arms.

She gasped in wonder when she saw her daughter’s face; she was covered in blood and her body was wriggling around helplessly, but Marianne only saw her as the dear life that grew in her body that she finally got to see and hold. How could she ever think she would be without love on Earth as long as she had her child in her arms? Alain may have sired her, but this child would only be hers. The tears flowed again, this time in pure joy.

“Oh, my darling,” she said as she as she hugged her crying child to her breast, “you’re so beautiful. I promise I’ll never leave you. You will always be loved.”

She knew she couldn’t work at a factory all day when she had a newborn, so she left her job there immediately. However, another problem arose as she needed somewhere inexpensive to live, and even a small room in the heart of Fortuna could be quite costly. She made her way to a tiny village near the edge of the kingdom that she had overheard had a small home that would be cheap to purchase.

When she saw it, she could immediately see why the cottage was so inexpensive: Not only was it barely big enough for two people two live in, but even in the secluded village it was rather tucked away, and it looked as though no one had lived in it for years. Still, it was fairly sturdy, and the rusty hinges could easily be replaced. It was enough for Marianne to buy with most of her remaining funds immediately, knowing that it would be worth the much lower cost of living.

“This is our home now, Beatrice,” she said as she cradled her child as she sat on the bed. She finally finished arranging the worn-out furniture that was left in the house, and the fire from the stove warmed them up during the chilly night. “I promise to make you happy here.” She kissed her forehead as she stirred in her arms. Less than a month ago, she thought that she would never be happy again. Now she felt as though she were overflowing with joy, and that there was nothing she couldn’t endure so long as she had her daughter.

The coming days were difficult, but she worked hard to build a good life for her and her daughter. Once again she had to tolerate the stares and whispers of judgmental villagers, but they were easy to ignore because of all the time she spent working to support her little family. The kindly priest of the church told her of where she could find seamstress jobs that would allow her to work from home, from which she made a modest, but livable income.

Her powers weakened from lack of use, for an angel’s powers on Earth were strictly monitored and regulated, and she had no use for them as she did not plan on returning to Heaven any time soon. The use of her powers could also attract demons who would jump at the chance to harvest her and her daughter, knowing how rare an opportunity it was to catch an angel on Earth. It was also why she did not dare tell Beatrice that she was half angel.

She felt as though she loved her daughter more and more with each passing day. She was such a sweet little girl who never strayed from her mother’s side, who would grab onto Marianne’s dress and hide behind her when a stranger came too close. While she didn’t always enjoy going to church every week, she also eagerly helped her mother with whatever chores needed to be done and was always excited to learn from her. Soon it felt as though the love Marianne lost was nothing more than a bad dream.

One night, when Beatrice was then years old, Marianne guided her through sewing buttons on a men’s shirt.

“Make sure you secure it well,” Marianne said as she guided her daughter’s hand. But the needle slipped from her fingers when there was a loud pounding against the door, enough to make the walls shake.

“Marianne,” Zephyr’s voice called, “remember me? Come on out, my little stranded angel.” He banged on the door again, nearly causing it to fall right off its hinges.

“Beatrice, quickly, come with me,” she said grabbing her daughter’s hand. She swiftly pulled the gray carpet from the floor and lifted up the indentation in the wood. She guided her daughter into the cramped space, trying her best to not look afraid. “Beatrice, my darling, I need you to stay down there, and you must not move from this spot until it is safe.”

“Mother, please don’t leave me, I’m scared,” Beatrice pleaded as she tightly pulled at her mother’s hand.

“I know. But you must be brave, my darling. I love you so much.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead before shutting the door above her and replacing the carpet. No more than a second later did the door swing open, with Zephyr at the entrance with a triumphant and sinister grin.

“Oh, Marianne,” he said as he approached her, “Your friend did a fine job of making your as hard as possible to find, but I’m finally here to take you home.”

“My home is here,” she as she stood her ground. He gave a condescending chuckle.

“You always were the most naïve and foolish of angels, my dear; first you run off with that human bastard, and now you’ve willingly clipped your wings so you can care for your little half breed brat. You’ve always needed someone to guide you in the right direction, and now I’m here to do just that.”

“I will never abandon my child.”

“You mean the one who’s right below this floor?” Marianne kept her composure, but her eyes gave away the sudden jolt of panic she felt. “I’m disappointed that you underestimated me, sweet Marianne.” In his hand suddenly appeared a sword that glowed gold, his grip on the hilt tight. “Do you know what I’m capable of as an elite angel? I can destroy a soul as easily as crushing an insect beneath my foot. And when that happens, a creature completely ceases to exist forever. So don’t make this difficult: step aside.”

“How could you do such a thing? She’s an innocent child!”

“She’s an abomination,” he snarled, “the purity of an angel tainted with the blood of a pathetic human. Such a thing never should have existed, and I plan on exterminating this detestable worm and taking you back. Now move.”

He was coming closer, the bright glow surrounding his body radiating furiously like flames. Her mind was spinning, trying to decide what to do. She was far too weak to even hope to fight him off. But she couldn’t stand there and do nothing. The only solution she could think of would be disastrous, for she would be pushing herself far beyond her limits, and her heart ached knowing she would be forced to abandon her child. But if it worked, then her daughter would live.

“Please forgive me, my darling,” she whispered. She focused on the last flicker of power she had within her, a subtle gold glow forming around her that quickly grew.

“What are you doing?” Zephyr growled. She could feel energy pulsating under her skin.

“I’m ensuring that you will never harm anyone ever again.” When she felt as though she was overflowing with power, she put all of her focus into banishing him Heaven and Earth, praying that the angels above would see him for the monster he was and lock him out forever.

“You worthless whore!” he shouted as he charged at her. He raised his sword, prepared to strike her down. But right before the blade could touch her, her body erupted in a burst of light, the earth below them shaking. She felt as though her skin was burning and melting off her body, but she refused to stop until she saw him dissolve like a shadow in her light.

Then at long last her body collapsed; she had fueled what little power she had with her life force, draining it completely. She knew that her soul would ascend to Heaven once more, and she would be forced to watch her daughter while being unable to communicate with her. But she succeeded, knowing her child would live. She shut her eyes, too exhausted to even expend the energy to keep them open.

“Mother!” she heard her daughter cry. She slowly opened her eyes and reached out to her daughter, a weak smile spreading across her face to give her one last moment of comfort.

“Beatrice…” she said as her hand touched her daughter’s. Her voice was strained and barely above a whisper, but she pushed herself just one last time. “I love you… stay strong… for me…”

“I did everything that was permitted of me in order to protect you and your mother,” Lady said. “I regret that I couldn’t do more, but I kept both of you undetectable from even myself for ten years. I didn’t even know that your mother was in danger until I saw her again in Heaven; Zephyr, of course, tried to hide his presence on Earth from us, but once your mother died, he was stripped of his wings and banished here forever. As for now, he-“

“He’s dead,” Vergil said. “He tried to harvest Beatrice, so I killed him. Because the angels refuse to protect one of their own, I’ve taken that responsibility.”

“That’s rich considering you wanted to kill her.”

“And did any of you descent from your ivory towers to even try to stop me?”

“If you truly think that I wanted to stand by and do nothing, you’re a damned fool; I begged the elites to let me help her, even when you dragged her from her home, but I reluctantly did nothing because there must be order in the world, and we can’t just meddle in the world every time we want to help someone. I had to get on my hands and knees just to get permission to finally come down here. But at least we have order, unlike you demons; you freely take what you want without any regard for anyone but yourselves. And I’m sure you would gladly burn the world to ash if you it means gaining a sliver of power.”

“Because I’m willing to do whatever it takes in order to protect what I cherish. Can you say the same?” Lady suddenly stood up and pointed her gun at Vergil’s head. Beatrice gasped, but the Demon King looked unaffected by the angel’s threat. “Try if you wish. But I can promise that you’ll be dead in an instant.” Lady slowly lowered her gun and replaced it at her side.

“Beatrice,” she said. “I want us to speak privately.”

“Vergil, please, just trust her this one time.” His fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade before speaking.

“Very well. But if something happens to you, I won’t hesitate to strike her down.” Beatrice did not enjoy his threats, but still kissed his cheek before escorting Lady to the library.

“I know Vergil doesn’t appreciate your efforts, but I do,” Beatrice said. “Thank you, Lady.”

“Of course,” she replied, “it’s my job, after all. But is there nothing I can say or do to get you to leave here?” Beatrice shook her head, a hint of regret in her expression.

“I love him. I truly do. I know you don’t believe that he loves me, but I know he does.” Lady sighed.

“The truth is… I do know that he loves you; not even a demon’s eyes can hide their true emotions, and when I kept looking at him I saw love reflecting in his eyes when he spoke of you. Even other elites have said his love for you was genuine, and that you seem to calm his restless spirit.”

“Then… why do you want me to leave him?”

“Beatrice… I’ve seen what atrocities he’s committed, how much blood he’s spilt all to satisfy his thirst for power. The only reason why we haven’t done more than we have to stop him is because we don’t want to start a war with a demon whose strength could rival even our highest ranking angels. If we did, the consequences would be catastrophic, for Heaven and Earth. And as much as I hate to admit it, he and his brother have helped keep many demons at bay from invading the Human World.  Perhaps he would never let any harm come to you, but can the same thing be said for countless other innocents? Could you be happy by his side if he continued to massacre innocent lives, saying that it was all for you?”

Beatrice turned her gaze downwards. She remembered when he spared her village from his destruction at her plea, even though she could tell he did so rather reluctantly. But could she prevent him from slaughtering other innocents in the future? As much as she wished she could say “yes”, she knew she couldn’t say for sure. And still, she loved him so dearly, even knowing what he’s done in the past, and she loathed her heart for knowing it would continue to love him even if he killed a thousand people by his hand.

The right thing to do would be to leave him if that were to happen, but how could she? Even if their souls weren’t entwined, the thought of her turning her back in him made her ache. She felt as though her entire existence would crumble in sorrow if such a thing were to happen. And what of him? He would surely feel as much heartbreak as she would, perhaps even more. Would he then release his rage against Heaven and Earth all for her? She didn’t even want to imagine what he would be capable of when fueled by a shattered heart. And yet, as hard as she searched, she could not find the right answer.

She barely felt the single rolling down her cheek. Lady gently placed her hand on her shoulder.

“Your heart will guide you to the right choice,” Lady said. “You may be half human, but your heart is purely of an angel’s.” She softly kissed the crown of her head before leaving. Not once did Beatrice move, even as she heard footsteps approach her and Vergil’s hand on her shoulder.

“Beatrice,” he asked, “is everything all right?” She quickly turned around and quietly cried into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead, saying nothing as he comforted her with gentle strokes at her hair.

Chapter Text

That night, Beatrice felt completely lost; she said almost nothing for the rest of the day, something that made her feel guilty as Vergil continuously tried to sooth her to no avail. Even as she savored in his comforting embrace as she fell asleep, her thoughts were plagued with guilt and confusion. If she stayed, how far would he go in order to gain power so he could protect her? Would her pleas be enough to stop him from killing innocents, even if he became stronger for it? What if he didn’t stop? Should she leave him, even if it would destroy the both of them? Then what? Would she cause the birth of something disastrous? If he refused to cease murdering innocent people, she would be damned either way. Perhaps this was her curse for spurning her devotion to virtue and embracing a demon’s love…

So the next day, as soon as Vergil arrived home, she practically dragged him to his study, so that they could speak privately, nearly slamming the door shut.

“Vergil,” she said urgently, “if I asked you to promise me something, would you comply?”

“What is it you wish?” he asked with a hint of suspicion. He suspected that this had to do with their unwanted visitor the previous day. Already he was regretting allowing the angel to spend time alone with Beatrice. She quickly used both of her hands to grab one of his.

“I need you to promise that you’ll never take an innocent life ever again, even if doing so grants you an immense amount of power.”

“My dear, why-“

“Please, just say you’ll promise!” she yelled as she squeezed his hand tighter. She cursed to herself as she felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks while she stared at the floor; how she hated that she cried so much, like she had the emotional maturity of a child. It was horrible enough that she was so physically weak and that he was well aware of the fact, but every time she cried, she felt as though she was showing him how emotionally fragile she was too. He used his free hand to gently push her chin up so he could see her face.

“If that is what you wish, I will agree to your promise.”

“Please don’t just say that to appease me; I want you to truly promise that no innocent will die by your hand ever again.”

“If this is the choice I must make for you to stay by my side, I will accept it.” He brought her hand that held his to his lips and tenderly kissed it. A smile of relief gradually spread across her face.

“Thank you… my love…” He gently pulled her to him so he could hold her against his chest. She was almost certainly aware that he had killed innocents in the past in order to become more powerful- after all, power and strength always came at a price. But he did not dare indulge her in the details; not even his brother was aware of every atrocity Vergil had committed in the name of gaining strength. But despite the constant urge to gain power at whatever cost, he intended on keeping his word to his beloved; the thought of losing her love was a fate he never wanted to endure.

A knock at the door caught both of their attentions.

“Enter,” Vergil replied, followed by the door being opened by Trish.

“My lord, the visitor from yesterday is back,” she said.

“Tell her she’s not welcome here.”

“Vergil,” Beatrice gently chastised.

“If she wants you to take you away from me, I don’t want her anywhere near these premises.”

“Please, Vergil, she only wants to help me.”

“Her intentions mean nothing if her solutions will bring you misery.”

“Will you just let me listen to what she has to say just one more time?”

She heard Vergil release a light growl, but then replied with a reluctant “very well” before heading towards the main entrance. He opened the door to a rather disgruntled looking Lady. It appeared she didn’t want to be here either.

“State your business here, angel,” Vergil said, his patience already quite thin.

“Just as charming as usual,” Lady scoffed. “I’m here by order of the elites to be Beatrice’s companion.”

“Why would that be?”

“The elites didn’t take kindly to me trying to pull her away from you, though I will confess that it also had to do with me hiding my true intentions; I merely told them that I wanted to tell Beatrice the truth about her mother. They saw my trying to pull Beatrice away from you as putting my own interests above what’s best for the world.”

“So an angel shows herself to be selfish and not only lies to, but also disobeys her superiors… perhaps you aren’t as holy as you believe you are.” Beatrice could see the anger beginning to burn in Lady’s eyes, but contained it, though it seemed to be a bit of a struggle.

“Anyways, I was told that I would not be punished if I became her companion.”

“And just what does that entail?”

“Well, as I’m sure you’re well aware, Beatrice has no one to consider a confidant who’s an angel, despite being one herself. I’m here to change that. I’ll give her guidance that she can relate with, the kind that her mother used to provide her.” She let out a sigh before continuing. “And I can promise you that I’m no longer going to stand between her and you.” Beatrice looked over to Vergil. It was clear that he wanted nothing more to do with Lady, his fist still tightly gripped around his sword, but still didn’t say a word.

“I will let you decide what to do with her,” he finally said before turning away from the angel. When he was out of sight, Lady took Beatrice’s hand in her own, her expression growing softer.

“If there’s anything you need, anything at all, even if you just want a friend to talk to, just call out for me and I’ll be there.” She finished by giving a gentle squeeze around Beatrice’s hand.

“Thank you, Lady,” Beatrice said with a smile.

The next day, when Vergil was spending his time fighting, Beatrice had summoned Lady to the castle. Not even a minute after she had called out to her did the angel arrive.

“Vergil won’t be home until sundown,” Beatrice said as she sat in front of the fireplace. “We should have plenty of time alone to talk.”

“What did you want to talk about?” Lady asked.

“Well… you said my mother’s soul is in Heaven for good now. What has she seen of me?”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not being able to indulge too much; it’s not healthy for the living to become too attached to the souls of the deceased before their time, after all. But I can say that she was frightened for you when you became involved with the most powerful demon in the realm. But after seeing how happy you were, she became grateful that you’re no longer sad without her.” Lady didn’t seem to agree with Marianne’s feelings, but it made Beatrice relieved all the same that her mother wasn’t angry or sad with her. “You really do look so much like her… the same brown hair, the same eyes… I’m glad you have more of her than your father; not that he deserved your mother or you.”

“My father…” Beatrice, of course, did not think highly of the man that abandoned her and her mother, but at the same time she didn’t know if she could bring herself to say she hated him. She was more than content to have nothing to do with him, but somehow it didn’t feel right to say that she earnestly loathed him. She could only imagine what Vergil would think if she told him that. “Do you know anything about him now?”

“I’ve had no desire to know anything more about him.”

“I see… Lady, there’s something else that I think you’re the best person to ask for.”

“What is it?”

“Vergil and I… we want to have a child, but he’s worried it may not be safe. I thought that you would know for sure.” Lady looked shocked for a moment, and Beatrice was worried that she would go on a tirade for even suggest such a thing. Instead, however, she remained calm, if hesitant.

“Yes… it’s safe. Demons are just fallen angels and descendants of them. The offspring of demon and angel union are extremely few, as you could probably imagine, but it is safe.” Beatrice’s face lit up with joy; she couldn’t wait to tell Vergil the good news.

“Well, well,” Dante’s voice said. The two of them saw him leaning against the entryway, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Nice to see Vergil’s girl made herself a hot friend.” Beatrice blushed profusely while Lady looked extremely displeased.

“As if one of them were bad enough,” Lady muttered.

“Aw, c’mon, I’m nothing like my brother; I’m a lot better looking, for one. For another, I don’t look perpetually pissed off, like I'm one bad day away from killing the next person who walks past me.”

“I’m still mad at you for tying me up yesterday, you know.”

“Hey now, isn’t holding grudges a sin or something?” Lady let out an exasperated sigh.

“Beatrice, is there anything else you needed?”

“No… I can’t think of anything.”

“Then I’ll take my leave; as much as I would like to stay longer, I’d rather not have this demon attempt to woo me.”

“Aw, babe, you’re breaking my heart,” Dante replied as Lady stood from her seat. She continued to ignore him even as he followed her out the door, continuing to tease her. Beatrice peeked around the entryway and caught a glimpse of a pair of snow white feathery wings extending from Lady’s back before she rose to the sky, her wings gracefully flapping. Dante shook his head as the angel ascended in a column of golden light, which gradually faded within a few seconds.

“Are… are you sure?”

Beatrice excitedly nodded in response, her excitement barely contained.

“Isn’t that wonderful? I can safely carry your children. We can have a family.” She giggled with glee before wrapping her arms tightly around him. He returned her embrace, but she could sense there was something disturbing him when his arms felt limp around her, which made her pull away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said a bit too quickly as he turned his head.

“Vergil, I know when something’s bothering you; please, just tell me.”

“I’m just… worried; I don’t want anything to happen to you or our child, but I know how much more vulnerable you’ll be when you’re pregnant. And when our child is born, they’ll be one more for me to possibly lose, one that’s completely helpless…” He felt remorseful that he couldn’t share in his mate’s joy, but how could he when he knew how dangerous of a position he had put her in already by making her his bride? And he would endanger her even more by conceiving a child with her, as well as putting in danger the life that hasn’t even existed yet. He didn’t know if he in good conscience could bring a child into the world, not when there was so much to lose.

“Vergil… I know why you worry so… but I have so much faith in you to protect me and our child. I know you’ll never let any harm come to us.” She leaned in and kissed him. He still looked apprehensive, but he also seemed a little less tense from her comforting words. “I want to start as soon as possible. What do you think?” He leaned in a bit closer, so that he lips were close to her ear.

“If that is what you so desire,” he muttered, “then I will revolve my schedule around getting you pregnant.” He finished with placing a kiss at her soft neck, making her release a light gasp.

“If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought you already did.” He chuckled at her playfully suggestive response before tightly pressing his lips against her own.

Chapter Text

Vergil was away again this week, this time in regards to rumors in Fortuna of plans by some townsfolk to enter the Hell Gates to the Demon World. He could only assume that it was some foolish plans by self-righteous humans to murder him, who believed that doing so would eradicate all suffering in the world. Or perhaps even ones who wished to gain the favor of demons in exchange for power. Still, he wanted to investigate further, in case there was something more to their scheme; he was not about to let pride be his downfall, as it had been for so many other less-than-wise demons.

Beatrice was anxious for him to return home; not just because she was hoping that he would come home safe, but also because the night he had planned to return home was when her sterility elixir wore off. He agreed that as soon as he returned from his trip, they would try to conceive a child. He was still apprehensive, but it was clear he wanted to make her happy, and he was trying the best he could to set aside his fears and focus more on his own desire for starting a family of their own.

Right on time he was home, as he made sure to do since the first time he left her for an extended period of time. Her heart pounded in excitement when she heard his footsteps approach closer to the bedchamber. He opened the door to find her already spread on the bed naked, the flowery scent of bath oils still lingering on her skin and hair. Quickly he kicked off his boots and threw off his coat and vest, tossing them on the back of the sofa. He climbed on top of her, sealing her lips with his own in a fiery kiss.

“Tonight I claim you completely,” he growled, “You’ll carry my seed in your womb, your body will devote itself to growing what I’ve planted in you.”

“Yes…” she sighed, “my body belongs only to you, my love.” She felt his fingers linger down to her slit, causing her to gasp when he pushed inside. He slowly thrust his fingers in and out of her as he leaned his head against her breast, kissing her tender nipples. She panted as she ran her fingers through his hair, her hips slightly bucking upwards with each push of his fingers inside of her moist entrance. Her body shivered in excitement, knowing that these unions of their love would lead to her growing his child, a gift created by the both of them.

He removed his fingers and ran them up her belly, leaving a trail of her fluids against her skin. He followed down the streak of wetness with his lips, each kiss feeling as though he left a tiny flame at her already burning flesh. She could feel his hot breath at her drenched opening, causing her hips to gyrate to try to relieve some of the tension. He knew what she wanted, for him to ravish her mercilessly until she was left an exhausted, trembling mess, but he didn’t want to rush this; he wanted this to be just as pleasurable as it always was, even though this was no longer purely to satisfy their lustful desires, and that they had both been deprived of one another’s touch for days. He wanted to prolong each moment, knowing that doing so would make their release all the more worthwhile.

She sharply gasped when she felt his warm tongue enter her, her legs instinctively wrapping around him to keep him in place. He responded by firmly gripping her thighs as he continued pleasuring her with his mouth, and he groaned as he felt her soft walls contract around him. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully savor the taste of her sweetness and the suppleness of her passage against his tongue. So many times he had tasted her desires, and yet not once did he even begin to tire of it.

“Vergil…” she moaned between rapid breaths. Her back arched with a sharp breath when he touched a particularly sensitive spot. He continued his loving strokes, listening as he put her into a lustful frenzy, her breath becoming heavy and quick, and her legs shuddering around his head. “Oh God…” she cried. She anticipated her climax, waiting for the moment that would set her body ablaze in pure euphoria.

But it never came.

All she could feel was tension rising, rising so steadily, release just within her grasp. But every time she felt as though she was about to be sent over the edge, he would trap her, baiting her with what she wanted most, but pulling it away right before she could reach it. How could he torment her like this, knowing how much she needed him, knowing how much the distance between them made her heart ache for him? He knew exactly what he was doing, knowing exactly how to draw out this pleasurable pain. He wanted to hear her voice beg for him to give her what she so desperately needed, to let him know how much she missed him.

And of course, he knew she would comply.

“Vergil…” she choked out on the cusp of tears, “please… I need you… please… let me release…”

Not a moment after she uttered those words did he grant her wish. She threw her head against the pillow and screamed out his name, the knot inside of her that grew ever tighter finally snapping apart. Her fingers gently tugged at his hair, her body desperately needing something to anchor itself with anything as she felt as though she would burst. The sensation of mouth drinking up the fluids she continuously released drew out the moment to an almost unbearable state. When he heard her whimpering, finally reaching the point of overstimulation, he stopped, letting her have a brief moment of reprieve.

But he knew she wasn’t satisfied; not truly, as when he pulled her into another kiss, her entrance was already becoming wet again, begging for more, begging for his cock to impale her over and over again until she fell into oblivion.

“Filthy little harlot,” he snarled as he kissed down her neck, “never satisfied until I’ve used you up completely.”

“Yes,” she moaned, “please… use me, my love… my body is yours for the taking.” A low growl rose from his throat, one that was predatory and possessive. His eyes burned blood red as he forced her to look at him, his hands tightly cupping her face. He pulled her into a ferocious kiss once more as she felt rough scales beginning to scratch at her skin, and sharp claws poking into her.

Quickly he threw his pants to the floor and firmly held her in place by her shoulders, as though he were expecting her to run away from him if he didn’t. A part of him wanted to torment her some more, until her body was so weak with need that she wouldn’t be able to walk. But even he had his limits, and seeing her beneath him like this, her body trembling, pleading for him to enter her, her eyes filled with lust, her lips slightly parted as she panted in anticipation, her legs parted so that her swollen, dripping entrance was completely visible to him… it was far too much for him to even consider resisting her wanton offering.

“I’m going to take you over and over again,” he growled, “not even your screams will stop me.”

With a loud groan he pushed inside to the hilt, making her cry out in response as her hands flew to his back. His pace was unrelenting, even though he had only just entered her, and she dug her nails into his skin, leaving tiny marks that would quickly fade. The amount of fluids that were spilling out of her was practically limitless as her body was quickly accommodating for him. Already she felt as though her mind was clouded with passion; the only thing she could focus on was how good he felt as he hit the entrance to her womb, each thrust harder and more pleasurable than the last. Her legs found their way around his waist, wanting, needing him to be as close as possible. He was also not hesitant to make his own growing pleasure apparent as he growled and grunted while pricking her delicate skin with his talons, biting and sucking at her tender neck.

“Do you want to be bred?” he groaned before kissing the top of her breast. “Do you want your body to be ravaged until it’s dripping with my seed?”

“Y-Yes…” she panted, “please… fill me completely… fill me until I can’t accept any more… please, Vergil… my love…”

He gripped her shoulders with an almost unbearably painful strength, and broke the skin at her neck, licking her sweet blood as her fingers disarranged his hair. She was practically sobbing as he thrust into her without mercy, making sure the pleasure he gave her was nothing short of agonizing. He would make sure she knew just how mad with desire she made him, how every moment he wasn’t focused on his mission, he was thinking only of her, how he could not escape her even in his dreams…

She squeezed her eyes shut and held him in a desperate embrace as she cried out, her passage feeling as though it had burst, the pleasure rippling throughout every nerve in her body. Not a moment after she climaxed did she hear him groan as his seed overflowed her body, the hot fluid feeling as though it was burning her from the inside as it reached her womb, and it made her rapture all the more overwhelming. A few more thrusts was all it took for him to finally release it all, her body accepting it all until it had overflowed.

Slowly he dismounted from her and eased her body against his, so that her head was against his chest. He gently stroked the mark at her heart, letting his fingers trace against the redness at her skin. Then he pushed back the strands of hair that were stuck to her face with a light layer of her sweat, her eyes gazing at him in pure adoration as he did so.

“It’ll be a week,” he said.

“Hm?”

“A week after conception, your scent will change; that’s when we’ll know you’re pregnant.” She smiled, letting her hand glide down his sturdy chest.

“Vergil… thank you.”

Chapter Text

For the next several days, they continued attempting to conceive. Beatrice’s fertility window had fallen during those days, which made her hopeful that it would not be long until she was pregnant.

One morning, Vergil could tell her scent was different the moment he had awoken. It was subtle, but he had become so accustomed to her scent that he could immediately sense that something had changed: his scent was constantly present on her, as though it was masking her own. This time it was as though their scents had combined, as though the both of them had become one.

When he first detected this new addition, he thought that perhaps he had imagined it. So he held her tighter and inhaled deeply against her neck, causing her to stir awake.

“Vergil…?” she said as her eyes slowly opened. “Is there something wrong?” He paused for a moment, making sure that he was not mistaken so as not to raise her spirits, only to leave her disappointed. But now he was certain; there was no other explanation for this.

“We’re going to have a child.”

For a few seconds there was silence. Then he heard her crying, which startled him at first, until he looked down and saw her smiling as she hugged him tightly.

“I’m going to be a mother…” she said as tears welled up in her eyes. “We’ll have a family…”

The first thing Beatrice wanted to do as soon as she found out about her pregnancy was visit her mother’s grave, for it had been far too long since she had done so. And what better reason to visit than to tell her that she was going to start a family of her own? Vergil immediately refused at first, claiming it would be problematic if the woman that was supposed to be dead suddenly appeared again. But she insisted for days, which finally made him relent. He had her wear a heavy gray cloak whose hood completely covered her face, which also served to protect her from the autumn chill. When they arrived at the church, it was empty, with everyone long gone from the day’s services.

“We shouldn’t stay here long,” he said as she approached her mother’s grave. “Someone may come by and become suspicious.” She nodded before kneeling in front of the stone marker.

“Mother,” she said, “I’m sorry that I haven’t come to visit you in so long. But I’m here to tell you something wonderful: I’m going to have a child.” She tenderly touched her womb, as though she were making sure that this was truly happening. “I’m going to have a little boy…” She wiped the tears from her eyes, smiling as she imagined holding her son in her arms, the little life that she and the man she loved created together. “I wish you were still here with me, but I know you’ll be watching me from where you are.”

After visiting her mother, Beatrice requested to see one more place: the altar where she was supposed to die. She wanted to see exactly where her life took such a turn, now that she could see it in a different light. Vergil was reluctant, but he honored her wish so long as they would keep their distance and make the visit brief.

As the building that housed the altar became more visible, she noticed something strange at the entrance. As she came closer, she saw that at the door were a few bundles of wildflowers clustered together. Then she saw a man and a woman approaching the door, a small bouquet in the woman’s hands, which she placed with the rest of them.

“They’re mourning me…” she said in awe as she watched the couple pray.

“They’re detestable,” Vergil spat in response, his hand tightening into a fist. “They only honor you because your life was useful to be disposed of for them. They only weep for you to ease their conscience.” He resisted the urge to say that if she permitted it, he would slaughter them all here and now. How he would enjoy seeing their faces twisted in terror as he transformed into his Devil Trigger form, before hearing them screeching in pain as he slowly sliced them open, prolonging their demise for as long as possible, the scent of their blood fueling his urge to kill. And he would repeat the process for every one of these pathetic villagers, forcing them to finally pay the price for their sins.

“Vergil,” she said as she touched his hand, noticing how tense he became, “perhaps we should leave now…”

Dante was the next person to find out about Beatrice’s pregnancy, though completely through accident: She was speaking to Vergil about finding some books on childcare when they both heard a familiar voice not so far away from them.

“Well, bro,” Dante said, “guess I know what you’ve been up to lately.”

“I would appreciate it if you would refrain from such remarks,” Vergil responded.

“What? I’m happy for you. Maybe having a kid is what it will take for you to finally get that chip off your shoulder.” Vergil audibly growled, but once again he resisted the urge to escalate the situation while his newly pregnant mate was nearby.

Beatrice told Lady of the news as soon as Vergil was next out of the castle. The angel looked shocked at first, then worried, much to Beatrice’s chagrin.

“Lady… please, don’t be upset.”

“I’m not,” she quickly replied. “I’m happy that this is what you wanted… I just hope everything will be okay…” She took a deep breath, trying to make herself sound calmer. “And as your companion, I’ll be there to help you when you give birth.”

“You… know how to be a midwife?”

“Yes; the ability to create life is one of God’s greatest gifts, and every angel is required to learn the ins and outs of procreation of all life forms.” Beatrice smiled, relived that Lady was not only accepting of her pregnancy, but was also willing to help bring her child into the world.

 To her surprise, Lady stayed until Vergil returned, to which she requested to Beatrice that they speak privately for a moment. She agreed, but she didn’t stray far, which allowed her to hear Lady say, “if you do anything to hurt her or her child, I will send every angel in Heaven to tear you apart.” The only response Vergil gave was a soft “tch”, before following Beatrice.

The next week was when the unpleasant parts of pregnancy were introduced: The first thing Beatrice did as soon as she woke up was run to the toilet and vomit, nearly not making it there in time. Then as she was walking down the stairs, she was suddenly struck with a dizzy spell and nearly tumbled down the steps, much to Vergil’s dismay.

And much to hers, from that day forward he refused to let her be anywhere without someone accompanying her. Even if she was sitting comfortably in the library, there would need to be someone with her, as though he were afraid she would bleed out from a paper cut if there wasn’t. She couldn’t even take a bath without either Vergil or Trish in the bathroom with her.

“Please don’t be too offended, my lady,” V said. “His concern for you is purely out of love.”

“I know… but sometimes I feel he’s more worried than happy.”

As the weeks went by, the typical changes of pregnancy continued; she slept much more than usual, and Vergil would be long gone by the time she finally awakened. She also feel asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Her entire body often ached, which made even the simplest tasks painful at times. Even just walking a few feet to the next room made her exhausted, making her have to sit down whenever she could. Of course, she did her best not to make that apparent, lest Vergil force her to stay in bed for the entire duration she was carrying.

Later, when her womb was beginning to swell, she was overjoyed, and often had her hand on her belly so she could feel even the tiniest movements. Much to Vergil’s displeasure, when Dante noticed this, he thought it would be amusing to jokingly ask if she was sure that she “wasn’t just getting fat”. Beatrice’s first response was to scream at him, saying that he should be ashamed of himself for insulting a woman whose body was growing a new life, before collapsing on the sofa in tears. Vergil was fuming as he tried to console her, but he admitted that he was impressed that she had done something he couldn’t: make Dante silent without even a threat of violence. He even awkwardly apologized before saying there was something he needed to do back in Concordia.

But even as she endured the struggles of pregnancy, Beatrice was nothing short of living in pure bliss as her child grew; when her womb had grown enough, she constantly wrapped her arms around her growth, as though she was already cradling her son in her arms. Her heart fluttered every time she felt him move, and she sang sweet songs to him as she rested, making sure he became accustomed to his mother’s voice.

Even as Vergil seemed as though he was in a constant state of uneasiness, he was always a source of comfort for his mate and unborn child, whether it was resting his hand on her belly as he sat by her side reading, or embracing her from her back as they lay in bed, his arm wrapped around her womb as they both held their son in their loving embraces. Oftentimes he would rest his head against her belly while they relaxed in bed, allowing himself to listen to the child’s every movement, and the two hearts beating in one body. Her fingers lingered in his hair as he spoke to their child.

“My son,” he murmured, “I hope you are strong, so that no harm will ever come to you. But for now, I will protect you from whatever comes your way.” Beatrice gently hummed as she took his hand in hers and softly squeezed it.

One night sleep had somehow failed to come to her, despite usually being so drowsy at night. She lay in bed with a book in her hands, but she put it to the side when, after half an hour, she still couldn’t find herself feeling tired enough to sleep. She released a heavy sigh as she adjusted to her side and rubbed her belly.

“Is everything all right?” Vergil asked as he joined her under the sheets.

“I’m just a bit restless, that’s all,” she replied.

“Are you sure? Is there anything you need?” She hesitated for a moment, a bit shy to initiate such a thing.

“Well… I am feeling a bit tense… perhaps… you could help relieve some of it…” He chuckled as he inched closer to her, amused at her slightly timid request. He pushed aside her hair and kissed the back of her neck as he furled her nightgown up until it was above her waist. He hands then lingered to her breasts, making sure to be extremely gentle, knowing how sensitive they were now. This seemed to please her as she let out a soft moan as he did so, while one hand simultaneously rubbed at her entrance, his fingers quickly becoming wet. Ever so slowly he entered, making her inhale sharply.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No… please, keep going…”

He wrapped his arm under her breasts and continued, making her release breathy moans as she placed her arm on top of his. He groaned into her neck, the position making her passage a tight fit for him even as her wetness allowed him to move easily. He loved how her body molded against his, her soft rear against his pelvis and her back against his chest as he thrust into her warmth. Her eyes fluttered shut as the pleasure from every thrust eased away every ache.

He hesitantly increased his speed, concerned that he would cause her pain, but when she moaned and held his hand tighter, he resumed, allowing both of them to satisfy their needs. He took his free hand to hold onto her thigh, letting him thrust deeper as he made sure not to go to hard. He felt her body tense against his, indicating that she was close to release…

She let out a soft cry as she climaxed, holding him as tight as she could as his hot seed entered her, and she could feel his breath against her flesh as he groaned. She let out a long, satisfied hum as he continued thrusting slowly, until he had completely released himself. When he was finished, he kissed her neck as he withdrew, before nuzzling his face at her shoulder.

“Vergil…” she sighed. “I never thought I would be so happy… I love you so much…” She pressed her back against his chest as much as she could before sleep finally took over her consciousness.

Chapter Text

Vergil sliced through every demon in path with ease, never once slowing his pace as each one tried in vain to attack him. The rain blurred his vision some, but even so that did not stop him from tearing each of them to shreds with his blade. He grinned as the blade became stained crimson with the blood of his foes that not even the downpour could wash away, the scent of carnage making adrenaline rush through his veins.

Then he saw a figure in black approach him, its face completely obscured by its dark hood. Without an ounce of struggle he plunged Yamato through its midsection, before swiftly pulling it away, blood pouring from the figure’s body like a fountain. Not a moment afterwards did he hear a familiar, sinister laughter. He turned around and raised his sword, gripping the hilt tight when his gaze met who stood before him: The former Demon King, Mundus. His appearance was almost angelic, though Vergil knew all too well what the façade hid below the surface.

“What are doing here?” Vergil snarled. “I destroyed you years ago.” Mundus simply laughed again, mocking the half-demon before him.

“It seems as though I can take away what the son of Sparda holds dear without even raising a finger,” he said. Vergil looked confused for a moment before he heard a familiar cry of pain. Quickly he spun around and terror shot through him when he saw Beatrice standing in front of him, her eyes wide in pain and horror as the bright red stain at her swollen belly grew larger with each passing second.

“Vergil…” she choked out before collapsing to the ground. Vergil ran to her side, letting his blade clatter to the ground as he cradled her against him. Her body shivered in his arms from being soaked in the cold rain and the rapid loss of blood.

“Beatrice!” he cried. “I’m so sorry, my love… I’ll save you, I promise, you’ll live, I won’t let you die! Both of you will live!”

“Vergil…” she said again with shaky voice, tears streaming from her eyes as she placed her hand where her now dead child rested. “How could you… I thought… you loved me… you promised… to protect me… are you so desperate for power… that you’d kill your own mate…?” Her eyes remained open, still gazing at the lover who betrayed her, as her head fell to the side, the rest of her body becoming limp in his embrace.

Desperately, he pressed firmly against her wound as he shook her corpse, calling out her name as her warmth faded from her body. But no matter how many times he tried, her and her son’s hearts remained still, any remaining sign of life gone forever…

Vergil’s eyes flew open as he sat up in bed, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest. The first thing he did was look over to his side; Beatrice was still there, faced towards him as she slept peacefully, her breathing soft and soothing to his ears.

This had not been the first night this had happened; sleep had not been kind to him for quite some time, often giving him vivid nightmares that would jolt him awake in the middle of the night. It seemed the stresses of creating a family were taking their toll on him, for his fear of something happening to his mate and unborn child had only gotten stronger as the days went by. But he promised to protect the both of them, no matter what may come, and he intended on keeping that promise.

He inched as close to her as her body allowed and wrapped his arm around her, falling back to sleep to the sound of her slow heartbeat.

“We still haven’t decided on a name, have we?”

Beatrice sat on a parlor seat, sewing a brown rabbit in her lap. Vergil looked up from his reading; he did not even realize that he had been so worried for the safety of his mate, not once did the think of names for his own child.

“I suppose you’re right,” he replied. “Have you thought of anything?” She shook her head.

“I’m afraid I’m horrible at deciding on names; and I thought that you would know of a name that has meaning to you.”

“Well… what about ‘Nero’? It was the name of a loyal knight that served under my father.”

“Nero…” she echoed as she placed her hand on her belly. She smiled when she felt her child suddenly move against her palm. “I think he likes that name…”

“My lord,” V said as he entered the room. “A word with you, please; it’s regarding the disturbances in Fortuna.” Vergil squeezed her hand before following V into the hallway.

“What have you found?” he asked.

“I managed to find one of the men with the sigil of Mundus on their jacket. I was able to follow him all the way to you and your brother’s childhood home.”

“What business did he have there?”

I don’t know, but I did manage to catch a glimpse of him entering a door that was built into the floor. I tried to see if there was a way for myself to open it, but it was locked in a way that was beyond my understanding. I’m afraid that’s all could uncover. Whoever they are, they’re very good at being discreet.”

Vergil furrowed his brow; ever since a few months ago, when he came across a man with Mundus’s sigil pinned on their jacket, he was determined to find out why he wore the mark of the Demon King that was usurped so many years ago. And then it was discovered that there were several more, but any information he could find was scarce. All he knew was that nothing good could come from them.

What frustrated him most about this problem, however, was that by knowing nothing about this new enemy, he had no idea of what exactly he needed to protect Beatrice from. Humans and demons were normally predictable in combat; he could tear through even the strongest of demons, and humans were laughably easy to kill. But the fact that these humans who seemed to pledge loyalty to a long dead demon were as secretive as they were concerned him. After all, humans were just as capable of committing atrocities as any demon, something he learned a long time ago.

“My lord,” V finally said, “should we tell the lady of this?”

“Yes… I’ll tell her,” Vergil replied. He made his way back to the parlor and saw Beatrice sitting in the same spot, the now finished rabbit sitting on the nearby table. She was looking down at her belly, smiling as she gently rubbed it.

Vergil regretted having to tell her this, hating that he had to worry her even more than she already did. He knew that she often kept a calm and happy demeanor, but he was well aware that she was always frightened for him, frightened that one day he would leave the castle and never return, even as he constantly assured her that he could more than endure whatever demon confronted him. One of the reasons why he relentlessly worked to become stronger was so that she would never have to worry about being in danger, so that she would know she would always be safe by his side. Now he was about to tell her that there was something he had no idea of how to protect her from. Would she doubt his ability to protect her?

“Beatrice,” he finally said.

“Yes?” she replied, still smiling. How he detested that he would be the one to remove the smile he so loved. He sat in the same place he previously sat, holding her hand in his.

“Beatrice… there’s something I should warn you of; I’ve noticed several people in Fortuna wearing the mark of Mundus. I don't know what their intentions are, but I fear you may become a target for them as my mate who is carrying our child.” As he feared, her smile slowly dropped.

“What about you?” she asked. Concerned for him as always, even above her own safety.

“I don’t fear what they may have in store for me; I only fear that I don’t know what they may have planned for you and that I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Vergil… I trust you so much. And I know you’ll protect me from whatever these people are planning.” She leaned forward and kissed him, the touch of her soft lips against his cheek filling him with warmth. She smiled at him again; he should have known that it would not take long for it to return.

Vergil decided that from then on he would stay with her in the safety of the castle, until he could find out just what these loyalists to Mundus were planning. Beatrice was elated, mostly because that would mean she would no longer have to worry about his safety, if only for a little while. He still found it amusing that she was more worried for his safety than her own, despite her being so much more vulnerable than him.

Then she suggested that Lady be made aware of what was happening. Vergil was not pleased that he was going to ask help from an angel, but he swallowed his pride if it meant bringing his mate peace of mind.

“I have no idea of what they could be planning,” Lady said. “Even the elites are still investigating. I will help protect you, of course, so long as he doesn’t get in my way.” Vergil didn’t respond, but Beatrice could easily see the threatening stares they gave one another. She had a feeling that there would be a lot more tension at home.

But while Vergil was constantly worried about his mate’s safety, she made sure to provide him with the reassurance and comfort that he needed, but would never ask for aloud. Though her touches were never lacking before, now she was almost constantly touching and caressing him, even if it was simply holding his hand against her womb, or leaning her head against him when he was close enough. She often told him how much she trusted him, how there was never a moment where she didn’t feel safe by his side. Though he never said so, he found her words greatly consoling, even if he was still continuously plagued with doubts. He only hoped that he could continue to meet her lofty perceptions of him.