My Wives are Beautiful Demons

The room was plunged into a tense, intimate silence, broken only by Kaguya's shaky breathing as her lips remained pressed against Vergil's neck. The sound of blood being sucked, something that would have previously caused irritation, now seemed... strangely tolerable.

Vergil, at first, kept his gaze on the ceiling. He mentally counted how many daggers were still hanging in the air—seven. He could cut her in nine directions before she blinked. But he didn't.

She was shaking.

But not from hunger. Not anymore.

Kaguya seemed... numb. Her body relaxed against his, as if she were melting. A soft moan escaped her throat each time she swallowed a little more of the blood. It was like watching someone drunk on pleasure, lost in an intoxication so intense that the world around them seemed distant, unreal.

Vergil let out a soft sigh, his body still tense on instinct. But then something in his shoulders gave way. A small part of him, exhausted from the past few weeks, simply… relaxed.

With an almost involuntary gesture, his hand rose to Kaguya's pale hair. Long, cool fingers slid through the strands, pushing them away from her sweaty, trembling face. He began to caress her, his movements slow, precise, and meticulously calculated so as not to lose control of the situation—but still gentle.

Kaguya moaned against his skin.

"You're… different," she murmured, her voice muffled by the contact with his throat. "Your blood… feels like a divine potion. Like… every drop makes me more… alive and crazy at the same time…"

Vergil arched an eyebrow. "Alive and crazy, hm? You seem crazier than alive right now."

She laughed softly, a shaky, drawn-out laugh, clearly drunk. Her head rested lightly on his shoulder, her eyes half-closed.

"You're like… I don't know… 900% alcoholic blood. It's like drinking heaven… and then falling straight to hell with the taste of noble wine."

He tilted his head to the side, slightly surprised by the comparison. "That's a new one. I've never been compared to heavenly wine before."

"Not wine… magical wine! The kind you drink and start seeing unicorns dancing tango with dragons." She laughed again, silly. "Oh my God, I'm so… so dizzy. I'm… light."

Vergil looked at her with a look that was a mix of disapproval and curiosity. She seemed completely surrendered. Her eyelids were heavy, her cheeks flushed a bright red, and her hot breath hit his collarbone.

He ran his fingers through her hair once more, letting out a sigh.

"You're greedy," he said in an almost amused tone. "You shouldn't drink so much at once."

Kaguya stared at him with red, cloudy eyes, her mouth still damp from the blood she had just tasted. "I can't help it… Seriously… This is better than anything I've ever tasted. Better than Belgian chocolate… better than royal blood… better than sex—and I've already had sex… oh, forget it." She covered her mouth with her hands, embarrassed, and fell to the side, laughing to herself.

Vergil arched an eyebrow.

"Delicate," he commented, ironically. "You really know how to win a man over, don't you?"

"Hmm…" she murmured, laying her head on his chest, now completely relaxed. "If you let me, I would live off of this. Seriously. Like… I would open a secret bar and sell only shots of your blood. It would be a huge success. I would call it… Noble Blood. Exclusive. Luxurious. Sexy. With your picture on the bottle."

"And I would be in your jail, probably."

"But it would be worth it…" she whispered, hugging him with a final sigh. "You smell of power… and calm… and a little bit of sarcasm."

Vergil, against all better judgment, let out a soft laugh through his nose. Short, restrained. But real.

He watched her for a moment. The vampire who, moments ago, had seemed ready to rip out the throat of anyone in sight, was now sleeping — or almost — in his lap, like a contented cat. Vulnerable. Exposed. Defenseless.

A part of him found this dangerous.

Another part… he found it almost charming.

"You're going to give me trouble," he muttered, almost to himself. "But at least you didn't bite anyone without permission today."

Kaguya mumbled something incomprehensible and buried her face deeper into his chest, as if seeking warmth where there was none. A shiver ran through her body, soft and almost imperceptible.

Vergil sighed.

Carefully, he lifted her body into his arms once more. The warmth of their closeness didn't bother him—but it was the meaning behind it that made him uneasy. How could someone so dangerous seem so… fragile?

As he walked slowly across the room, he thought of Viviane waiting downstairs, probably with another strange book in her hands. And then… the Underworld. The mission. The Witch Queen. Everything he needed to do.

But for a second, just a second, all Vergil did was lay Kaguya carefully on the bed, cover her body with a light blanket, and stand there, watching as she finally fell into a deep sleep.

"…Greedy," he muttered once more, a hint of irony on his lips.

…

"Was that really necessary?" Zex asked quietly, crossing his arms as he glared at Viviane. His tone was sharp, like someone who already knew the answer but demanded justification.

That, of course, was obvious.

Kaguya tied up as a luxurious gift for her master? All part of a carefully plotted plan. After all, why the hell would Viviane, of all people, be reading an arcane tome on mystical BDSM?

Viviane slowly looked up from the book she was still holding, her fingers casually marking the page as if they had nothing to do with the recent events. The tone of her voice was sweet, but each word was sharp as cut glass.

"She liked it. She said in no uncertain terms that she likes BDSM. It wasn't hard to lead her into Vergil's arms. But... honestly? I think it's a bit hypocritical of you to question that... considering you two seduced me to bathe him, remember?"

Her icy gaze fell on Iridia and Zex like a blade. The two maids shivered.

Iridia tried to maintain her composure. "Y-You're different from that vampire…"

"Yes, I am," Viviane said before she could continue. "But not that different."

Zex, who had remained silent until then, placed his hand on Iridia's shoulder and murmured with resignation: "She's right."

Viviane sighed and leaned back in the chair, relaxing her shoulders. "In the end, it was effective. We solved two problems at once: we calmed her withdrawal and handed her over, on a silver platter, to someone who can truly control her. Her loyalty will now be total… and his blood will keep her stable. No more outbursts. No risks."

Zex frowned, but did not respond. He simply nodded slightly.

"So…" she began hesitantly.

"Then you two better keep your cool and get back to work," Viviane snapped, as she heard Vergil's heavy footsteps echoing down the stairs. "He's coming down."

The two maids quickly dispersed, adjusting their skirts and resuming the impassive posture of exemplary maids.

Vergil appeared seconds later, descending the steps with the usual precise silence of someone who didn't need to announce his presence to be noticed. His eyes landed directly on Viviane—and there was something in them… something between exhaustion and a hint of amused disbelief.

"You completely shattered my perspective," he said, stopping a few feet away from her and giving her a look of mild disapproval. "Did she really like BDSM?"

Viviane didn't hesitate. "She said she was curious. I just… took advantage of her outburst to give her a taste. That was it."

"That was it," Vergil repeated with an arched eyebrow.

She shrugged, trying to keep her air blasé, but the memory still left her a little disconcerted. "But, yes… I admit it was strange. Tying a woman up like that. It was like staging a dark play in an arcane cult… with touches of luxury fetish."

Vergil approached. His steps were slow, calculated, predatory.

When he stopped beside her, he leaned in slightly and whispered in her ear, in that deep, calm voice that seemed to gently scratch her spine:

"The next one to be tied up… will be you."

Viviane froze.

A chill rose like liquid fire on the back of her neck.

She turned her face toward him slowly, trying to maintain her composure. But the blush on her cheeks was treacherous. There was no hiding it.