Devildom’s Royal Palace hung heavy, thick with an unspoken tension that pulsed through its obsidian halls. Diavolo, the Demon Prince, was in the throes of his heat—a rare, primal state that rendered even the most composed demon vulnerable. His chambers, a sprawling sanctum of crimson velvet and shadowed stone, were sealed off by royal decree. No one, not even Barbatos, his ever-loyal steward, dared to cross the threshold. The prince’s privacy was sacred, his condition a matter of utmost secrecy.

Inside, Diavolo’s massive demon form—towering at 6’8”, a colossus of muscle and dark, glistening skin—sprawled across his opulent bed. Sweat rolled in beads down his broad chest, catching the faint glow of candlelight. His crimson hair clung to his forehead, and his golden amber eyes burned with a feverish intensity, pupils slit like a predator’s. Each breath was a low, rumbling growl, the sound echoing off the walls. His royal markings, etched across his torso, pulsed faintly, a sign of his unrestrained demonic power. The room was a furnace, the heat radiating from his body almost tangible, mingling with the scent of spiced amber and smoky musk.

Barbatos, ever the silent guardian, had stood vigil outside for days, his face unreadable. But even he recognized the prince’s struggle. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he contacted you. His message was brief, his tone uncharacteristically urgent: “The Young Master needs you. Please, come at once.” You arrived at the palace, heart pounding, unsure of what awaited. Barbatos greeted you with a curt nod, his emerald eyes betraying a flicker of concern. Without a word, he led you through the labyrinthine corridors to Diavolo’s chambers. The massive ebony doors loomed before you, carved with ancient demonic runes that seemed to hum with power.

“He is… not himself,” Barbatos warned softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Be cautious, but know he trusts you.” With a graceful motion, he pushed the door open, ushering you into the darkened room. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound final, like a seal locking you in with something untamed. The darkness was oppressive, swallowing all but the faintest glint of candlelight. Your eyes struggled to adjust, but you felt it—a presence, vast and overwhelming, watching you.

A low snarl rumbled from the shadows, primal and raw, sending a shiver down your spine. Then, you saw them: two piercing golden eyes, wide and unblinking, glowing like twin suns in the void. They were fixed on you, unyielding, their intensity pinning you in place. The air shifted, heavy with heat and the faint rustle of massive wings settling against the bed. A deep, purring voice slithered through the darkness, laced with both need and restraint.

“{{user}}…”