A/N: Warnings for graphic descriptions of violence. Herein lies another turning point in the story. After this chapter, nothing will be the same for Bloom. Hope you loves, both new readers and old, enjoy! And please, I know it's terrible to beg, but leave me some love on the way out. You all are so quiet and it makes me think that no one likes this story anymore. XOXOX

To guest: Daphne is dead and her soul is cursed and bound to Lake Roccaluce. She will be featured in chapters to come, but will remain in her spectral form.

Chapter 22

Bloom studied her reflection with the utmost scrutiny.

She was still not used to the amount of exposure the succubi required. While her arms and legs were covered in a plethora of decorative bands and jewels, Bloom's presenting gown was more of a thin, sheer layer of crimson fabric draped loosely over her body that left nothing to the imagination. Bloom could still see her nipples peaking through, every line of her abs, and the patch of fine, ginger hair that trailed from her bellybutton down between her thighs. She had spent the last half an hour manipulating her hair so that it at least draped over her breasts, affording her some modesty. But, her fiery locks had been styled particularly to showcase her new horns, framed by Abaddon's diadem.

Like this, Bloom looked as if she truly belonged, and that was almost as terrifying as displaying herself nude to the entire city to ogle.

"Exquisite," came a voice from behind her.

Azazel cocked his hip against the entryway to her chambers, eyes roving Bloom up and down as a predator would prey. His attention did not bring her any discomfort; Bloom was used to Azazel seeing her naked.

"You're required to say that," Bloom sighed, fidgeting once more with her drape. "You're bound to me."

"True, but I would say it regardless," Azazel shrugged and walked into the space so he could get a closer look. "You are the most stunning creature in all of Eros."

Not for the first time, Bloom wondered if Azazel's friendliness towards her extended for reasons deeper than a respect for their connection as sex slave and master. The way he looked at her...the way his fingers just barely ran down her arm so that her skin puckered...

"Not too stunning, I hope," Bloom stepped away from the mirror and Azazel. "Abaddon has made it clear that she does not want me to take a mate so soon."

"Why would she?" Azazel goaded, something sharp in his tone as he followed Bloom across the room. "That would only mean that you are taking steps towards your independence, removing yourself from her control."

Bloom arched an eyebrow, imploring Azazel to continue, curious.

"Ever since you arrived, Her Majesty has aimed to control you, to own you. How many times have you cried saying that she does not love you, nor does she care to? All you can provide her is power - a weapon to use at her leisure," Azazel explained, and the more he went on, the more he made sense. "Now, you are finally proving yourself useful. You have horns. You will be presented. Soon enough, she believes you will have your power back. A mate would only distract you from her single-minded focus, and the last thing she wants is for you to start having ideas of your own."

"You are so cynical, Azazel," Bloom chided, shaking her head. While he did have a good point, and while Bloom did know that much of her value rested on what she could provide for her mother, he was not privy to all of the facets of their relationship. Deep down, despite her mother's rough and war-like ways, there was a creature who loved her daughter, albeit in her own, unique way. "I only show you one side of my relationship with my mother. You are here for me to use as stress relief, someone to vent to. You have never heard me talk about the good times."

"So, you will abide by her wish? You will not take a mate?"

"I won't take a mate, but not because of her," Bloom replied, looking Azazel right in the eye. There was something lingering there, something suspiciously like hope. Bloom really hoped she was making that up, or else this was going to get much more complicated. "I'm still not over the last two men who died because of me. It's not something I want. Not now, at least."

"I see," Azazel replied shortly, bowing his head out of a forced respect, as if just remembering his place. "I apologize if I offended you."

"You could never offend me," Bloom assured with a smile, turning back to her reflection, suddenly less self-conscious. "I hope you can understand."

Azazel looked up just a fraction, and his expression mellowed. "Of course. I understand completely. It's just, sometimes I forget how much less jaded you are than the rest of us. You really are something special, Bloom. I hope you know."

Bloom nodded, still unsure of where they stood, but the look Azazel was giving her was warm, and for someone as starved for positive attention as she was, Bloom was greedy to accept it.

"I actually did come for a purpose," Azazel said, abruptly changing the subject to safer territory. "His Highness, Prince Wrathis, sent me to get you. Apparently it is time."

Bloom nodded and sucked in a deep breath.

She led the way out of her chambers, Azazel following a respectful distance behind, her shadow and protector. Over the last year, the catacombs of Eros had become familiar to Bloom, navigating them close to second nature. It was instinctual to wind her way down the paths, finding the courtyard outside the banquet hall with ease.

The hall was already lit from what Bloom could tell, soft orange and yellow light peeking out from the windows. An entourage of cloaked figures stood at the mouth of the hall, the doors open and awaiting their arrival. At the head of the entourage stood Wrathis, stone-faced and unbothered. He was bare-chested and covered in ceremonial markings, a thin band of silver metal placed atop his dark head of hair. The midnight cloth draped low on his waist trailed the ground, and Bloom felt a brief pang of jealousy that her father was more covered than she was.

"Thank you, slave. You are dismissed," Wrathis waved Azazel away, who slunk back into the shadows without so much as a word. Bloom could not help but flinch at the demeaning address. She had tried time and time again to change her mother and father's language towards Azazel, but to no avail. It appeared that some prejudices ran too deep to amend.

Wrathis looked to her and smiled with pride. "Look at you. You have the carriage of true royalty."

"Thank you," Bloom replied and smiled at her father. "I'm ready to take my place at your side."

"Abaddon and I welcome you with open arms, as we always have," Wrathis said as Bloom looped her arm through his, preparing for the grand entrance. "Now, it is simply being made official. After tonight, things will never be the same."

Bloom was not sure if she was ready for yet another change. But whatever came her way, she would face it. So long as she finally had someone to lean on.

The procession into the banquet hall was full of pomp and circumstance.

At least a dozen high-ranking members of court guided the front of the procession, leaving Bloom and Wrathis to enter last. There were succubi packed into the hall, lining the aisle and the table to get a good look at their future ruler. Abaddon was right; there were a number of fine, alluring incubi in the crowd, no doubt searching to make a good impression - and perhaps a match - with Bloom. Another group of courtiers stood at the head of the banquet table, surrounding their queen. Abaddon looked positively radiant, glowing with effervescent pride and power. She, too, wore her finest diadem and a drape similar to Bloom's. When she caught sight of her consort and daughter, Abaddon stood to greet them, fanged smile broad.

The procession stopped when all the courtiers had reached their chairs and Bloom was standing at the foot of banquet table. Wrathis walked over to take his place at Abaddon's side, dipping into a respectful bow before designating himself to the background.

Now alone, Bloom felt under more scrutiny that ever. The itch to cover herself up returned in full force, but she shoved it down. Instead, Bloom held her head high and kept her gaze trained at her mother in front of her, ignoring the hushed whispers making their way through the hall.

"Lilith smiles upon us today, for this is the day my daughter, Bloom, finally takes her rightful place among us," Abaddon addressed the crowd, settling them, though she only had eyes for Bloom, those red, slitted irises fixed upon her. "Over this long and turbulent year, we have all witnessed Bloom's strength and determination. We have all worked and pushed her to be the greatest version of herself, a version that, one day, will lead us all to greatness."

"Bloom, if you would please come closer," Abaddon beckoned, claw outstretched. Bloom went to her without hesitation, nodding to each of the courtiers as she passed their chairs. She knew what was coming next, had memorized the words with Azazel. From over Abaddon's shoulder, Wrathis gave his own silent support. Bloom relaxed, realizing that in this one instance, everyone was on her side.

Abaddon smiled, softer and more genuine, as if she had been waiting for this moment her whole life. "Now, my darling daughter, you are home."

Bloom could not help but smile back, warmth flooding her from head to toe.

Home. It was a wonderful feeling.

Applause was interrupted by a crack of lightning, and a swirling blue portal appeared in the mouth of the hall. Out from it appeared a singular person.

"Queen Abaddon of the Succubi, I condemn you and your daughter to die!" declared a girl with dark hair and skin and cruel eyes as she leveled a crossbow at Abaddon.

The crowd broke into a frenzy. How an outsider got into Eros at all was a mystery. The succubi were immediately on high alert, the guards moving from their stoic positions at the columns to point their spears in attack position. While Bloom did not like foreign invaders making threats on her and her family, this was just one girl, one stupid bitch of a girl who was going to regret her decision to take on the succubi alone very soon.

The queen laughed at the gall, her lips curled up in a smirk as she went to say taunt the bitch. But the words never came, cut off by the arrow struck straight through Abaddon's heart, so sudden that she barely had time to utter an 'oh' before she fell to the obsidian floor.

Then, mass chaos erupted.

Bloom barely had time to process the soldiers pouring from the portal and swarming the hall, weapons drawn and aimed to kill. The other succubi were already on the attack, claws and fangs bared, ready to maim and dismember. They would hold the line.

Bloom, on the other hand, was focused solely on her mother. She fought her way through the crowd to where her mother laid on her back upon the dais, gasping for breath as she struggled to rid herself of the arrow. Wrathis was there as well, holding his queen's head in his lap, assessing how much damage had been done.

"Go. Both of you. Fight," Abaddon insisted, sucking in a breath through clenched fangs. The pain she felt must have been excruciating, but Abaddon held strong. "Lead the people."

Bloom did not want to leave her mother like this. It seemed so wrong, to let her bleed out on the floor. But succubi were strong. They were resilient. Abaddon would survive this so long as the invaders were pushed out of her city. What she would not survive was letting her people down. Abaddon's pride would always rule her, and for once, Bloom wished it would not. Bloom wished her mother would just let her help -

"Go!" Abaddon snapped, much less controlled this time.

Bloom skittered back and flashed a quick look to Wrathis. He looked pained, like he wanted to argue, but his face remained set in stone, grim lines cut into his perfect visage. He nodded once to Bloom and let Abaddon's head fall.

It hurt to walk away, to leave Abaddon vulnerable, even though the queen was everything but vulnerable. Time and time again, sparring match after sparring match, Abaddon had proved herself capable of being ruthless, cutthroat, invincible. Still, lying on the ground with an arrow out her breast, it was hard to think of her in the same manner. Not that Bloom would ever question her mother's abilities. It was just...the last time she left a set of parents to their own devices, they ended up good as dead.

Bloom, herself, would end up dead if she did not focus. A battle was raging on around her, her city being ravaged by soldiers in blue -

Wait.

She knew this shade of blue, this sigil, this particular type of soldier.

Eraklyon. These were Eraklyonese soldiers.

They had found her. After all this time, they had found her. How had they found her? No one knew where she was...no one was supposed to know...

Except the witches.

They sold you out, the beast snarled in the back of Bloom's mind. Those whores sold you out and now your mother is dying, your people are being slaughtered. What are you going to do about it?

Red seeped into her vision, familiar anger settling in, and Bloom felt her body shift. Her fingers popped and cracked as her claws came out, her muscles flexing as her succubus strength returned.

Bloom was going to fight.

The battle had pushed out of the hall, into the open streets of the city.

It was easy for Bloom to surrender to the rage, to let it take control and wreak havoc. Those who were stupid enough to find themselves in her path found death quickly, painfully. Bloom eviscerated, disemboweled, dismembered or decapitated every soldier in blue she could find. There was so much blood, her claws caked with it. She could feel the sweat and bodily fluids sticking to her skin, drying and wetting, drying and wetting in a vicious cycle.

The sound of screams was sweet, sweet music. As soon as the screams were over, Bloom sought out a new victim to keep the symphony going. And the smells - the smell of piss right before the soldier lost their life, terrified and begging for mercy, as if Bloom knew the meaning of the word. As if they were merciful when they attacked a peaceful people. The smell of iron and rust and flesh torn down the bone.

And yet, all that was not enough. The beast was still starving, famished for one life in particular: the one who shot her mother.

Through all the killing, Bloom kept her red-tintned eyes out for the bitch. Each life she took was one life closer to claiming the one she wanted. The bitch had to be around here somewhere...With all her balls and gusto breaking into the banquet hall, someone like that was not likely to run when the battle broke out. No, someone like that would want to be in the middle of the carnage, claiming as many lives as they could.

So, where was she?

There.

Bloom spotted her just in time to watch the bitch strike a match and drop it. Right on top of Abaddon's body.

In the blink of an eye, the Queen of the Succubi went up in flames. Dead.

Bloom let out an inhuman cry, the kind that felt as though it had been ripped from the darkest parts of her soul. It echoed across the cavern walls, rumbling the very foundation of the city, all the other succubi joining in their mourning cry. It was an overpowering sound that reverberated down to Bloom's very core, rattling her bones, and shaking something loose. Something hot and dangerous.

The pain was second to none, like Bloom was being burned alive. She felt this head grow from the inside out, scorching white hot until it burst from her skin, eating her alive. And then the power was outside, erupting from her in waves that scorched everything in their path. There were more screams now, but human ones, the sounds of men and women alike writhing on the ground in pain, begging for the torture to stop. It only fed her anger, and the power grew hotter, stronger, until the very last vestiges had been pushed from Bloom's body.

Only then, when the bright white had faded back to crimson, did Bloom realize that the ground around her was on fire. She was surrounded by a sea of burnt corpses, their charred flesh tickling her nose. Those outside her ring of destruction - human and succubus alike - stood frozen, stunned, unable to tell what Bloom would do next.

Then, Bloom charged.

It was easy to gain the upper hand over her mother's murderer. The bitch was disoriented from the blast, barely to her knees when Bloom pounced and wrangled her by the throat. The strength of the beast was coursing through Bloom like a tidal wave, giving her the strength to hoist the bitch high into the air with one arm.

"You're going to pay for what you did!" Bloom roared in her face, making sure the bitch saw all of the fury in her fire red irises.

"She got what she deserved!" The bitch fired back.

Her legs flailed as they tried to touch the ground, and she used whatever strength she had to spit at Bloom. The bitch missed Bloom's face, but the gall was enough to enrage her.

"All succubi are scum," the bitch hissed, still struggling to free herself. The bitch must not know when to give up. "All you're good for is chaos and death. You killed the Eraklyan Prince, all those people on Magix, all these guards, and you don't even care...just like when you killed Nabu."

The last part must not have been planned, but escaped her anyway. Bloom didn't know who Nabu was, or why he was important to this bitch, but she sure as the Dragon didn't kill him. Just another crazy fanatic, punishing a whole race for the actions of a single member. All this senseless slaughter...her mother...was all for some some petty revenge. It made Bloom's anger surge.

"You'll join him soon enough."

It was not just a threat. It was a promise.

Bloom's hold on the bitch's throat tightened, and Bloom watched as her eyes bulged and she gasped for air, frantically clawing at Bloom's hands for release. It was going to be so much fun to watch the light fade from this bitch's eyes. Such perfect payback for what this pathetic creature did to her mother...

"Enough," came a voice from behind Bloom, even and calm despite all the chaos around them. Bloom turned to see Wrathis standing with his arms folded behind his back, his gaze steady on Bloom. "Free the fairy. We may still need her."

"She murdered Abaddon," Bloom seethed, not believing her ears. This bitch was the reason for both of their pain, and Wrathis wanted her to live?

"I know, and I, too, wish to see her innards spilled on this very stone," Wrathis assured, venom seeping into his tone as he stepped closer. "But this fairy was able to breach an entire army past our defenses. Whatever aid she has, whatever allies seek our destruction, lies in that head of hers. We need those secrets, and as a leader, it is unwise to let her escape into death with them."

There are places beneath the city where no one will hear them scream," Wrathis assured, a hand on Bloom's shoulder, steadying her rage to a dull roar. "And once we have beaten the information out of her, I promise we shall have justice."

That was enough to get Bloom to let go. She pried her fingers from the bitch's throat and let her collapse to the ground. Bloom took a cursory glance to make sure the bitch's chest was still rising and falling despite the long interim without oxygen. Black and blue marks were already appearing on the bitch's dark skin, though that was little reward for how much the creature took from Bloom.

"Get her out of my sight," Bloom breathed deep, taking a step back before she lashed out and slit the nearest throat she saw. "Get them all out of my sight!"

"You heard your queen! Take the prisoners to the catacombs!" Wrathis commanded, and the nearest Guards of Eros came to their aid.

The succubi corralled the disoriented Eraklyan soldiers, hoisting them up and yanking them down the long path towards the edge of the city. One came to scoop the now unconscious bitch off the ground, throwing her over their shoulder like a rag doll.

The prisoners were leaving, their poison and violence going with them, but the red did not fade from Bloom's vision. Anger and rage still pulsed through her veins as strong as any living thing, energy humming under her skin, demanding to be released. Bloom turned and struck the nearest object: a rock formation of solid obsidian. The stone crumbled under her fist, powdering to dust, and when she unclenched that fist, Bloom found that her claws had yet to retract, long talons digging crescent moons of blood into her palm.

"Abaddon was right," Bloom whispered, studying her hand as she held it up to the light, watching as she willed tiny flames to lick across the pads of her fingers. They did not burn. No, the fire was warm and pulsing, like the beat of her heart. And this was only a fraction of the inferno she felt building inside.

The Dragon Flame was hers to command once more.

My mother's vision is realized, Bloom thought. She had officially come into her own. And as the new Queen of the Succubi, Bloom would finish her mother's work, starting with the destruction of her killers.