My Wives are Beautiful Demons - Chapter 624

Chapter 624: Four days.
Sepphirothy opened the hidden gate to her private territory in the underworld. It was an isolated house, built far from any demonic city. No ordinary demon knew of the existence of that place. Layers of barriers, seals, and runes protected everything, invisible but active at all times.

She entered carrying Lilith in her arms, as if she were a princess. Lilith’s body was weak, bruised, and unresponsive. Her breathing was shallow. Her skin, pale. Her eyes closed. She still seemed more dead than alive.

Sepphirothy said nothing. She simply walked straight down the main corridor.

Neberius followed closely behind. Silently. Without daring to ask anything. She only observed how Sepphirothy held Lilith: firmly, carefully, but with a kind of tension that made it clear she didn’t want to be contradicted.

The house was simple. Few pieces of furniture, everything organized. No unnecessary decoration. It was a place made for rest, not for visits.

Sepphirothy led Lilith to a back room and placed her on the bed. She adjusted the pillow and checked her breathing as if assessing a common wound.

“It’s alright,” Sepphirothy said with a sigh, “But I doubt I alone can stabilize her and give her enough demonic energy.” She said and looked at Neberius, “That’s all for today,” she said calmly.

Sepphirothy stood beside the bed. Lilith didn’t move. Her breathing was almost imperceptible.

Neberius crossed his arms, keeping a certain distance.

“How long until she wakes up?” she asked bluntly.

Sepphirothy looked at Lilith for a few seconds before answering.

“Weeks.”

Neberius frowned. “All that time?”

“She doesn’t have any demonic energy,” Sepp replied. “Not even 0.1% of what she should have. Her body is only functioning because she doesn’t know how to die completely.”

Neberius let out a heavy sigh. “And that’s going to be a problem.”

“It will.” Sepphirothy agreed, adjusting the sheet around Lilith again. “To get to about 5%… it will take a long time. I’ll have to supply her with energy almost every day.”

Neberius observed the way she spoke—direct, but with a strange focus. As if she were dealing with something too important to be questioned.

“Are you sure about this?” Neberius asked. “You know that nobody will accept it well when they find out who she is.”

Sepphirothy didn’t turn her face. She continued looking at Lilith, motionless on the bed.

“I know.”

“And you really think you can control her when she regains her strength?”

“Yes.”

Neberius raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous conviction.”

“I’m not asking for your approval.”

Neberius was silent for a moment. Then, speaking more softly,

“Why are you doing this?”

Sepphirothy finally looked up.

“Because I decided so.”

That didn’t answer anything, and at the same time it answered everything. It was typical of her.

Neberius took a deep breath, resigned.

“Then I’ll keep an eye on things. Someone needs to make sure you don’t lose control of this situation.”

Sepphirothy gave a slight nod.

“Do what you want. But from now on, nobody will know she’s here. Not friends. Not allies. Nobody.”

Neberius agreed.

The two remained silent for a few moments, observing the motionless figure on the bed.

Finally, Neberius said one last thing before leaving the room: “I hope you know the weight of what you’re carrying.”

Sepphirothy replied without hesitation: “I do. And I’ll deal with it.” Neberius closed the door behind him. Sepphirothy remained there, seated beside the bed, without moving a muscle. Lilith remained exactly the same. Weak. Weak.

And yet… Sepphirothy didn’t look away for a second.

Sepphirothy stared at Lilith lying there for a few seconds. Her breathing was weak. Her body barely reacted. Just the bare minimum to prove she was still alive.

After Neberius left the room, closing the door silently, Sepphirothy pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. Nothing on her face showed emotion, but her fingers moved incessantly, as if she were holding something inside.

She spoke softly, but firmly. “Father died a long time ago, Mother.”

Lilith didn’t move.

Sepphirothy continued. “He will no longer touch you. Nor command you. Nor use you. That’s over.”

She gently brushed a strand of her mother’s hair away from her forehead.

“The current Lucifer… he’s your grandson. He has nothing to do with the other one. He’s not a copy. He’s not a reflection. He doesn’t have that rot.”

Silence for a few seconds.

“He doesn’t even know you exist yet. And even when he does… he won’t hurt you. He’s not the kind of monster my father was.”

Sephirothy took a deep breath, as if organizing her next words.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you. For letting him do all that to you. For being too weak to stop him.”

She slowly brought her face closer. There was no tension, no shame. It was just a direct, simple, almost clinical gesture.

Sepphirothy pressed her lips to Lilith’s. A short touch… just the quickest and most efficient method of transference.

The demonic energy passed like a warm thread, descending from Sepphirothy’s mouth to Lilith’s almost empty body. Lilith’s skin reacted with a faint, almost imperceptible glow, but enough to show that it worked.

Sepphirothy pulled away, wiping her own mouth with her thumb.

“This is just the beginning. It will take weeks… but you will return.” She stood up. “This time, with no one to hurt you.”

…

Katharina lay in bed, but she wasn’t resting. The room’s air conditioner made a constant, soft hum, but none of that helped. She turned to one side. Stopped. Took a deep breath. Turned to the other. The pillow felt hard. The mattress felt strange. The room was too quiet. And her head wouldn’t let anything settle.

It was always the same phrase coming back to her mind, like an echo trapped inside her skull.

“I don’t want a mother like that.”

She had said it. Out loud. Looking directly at her mother. She remembered Sapphire’s expression perfectly. The shock. Then the anger. Then the frustration. And then that silence, heavy enough to cut the air.

And she simply ran away. Without thinking. Without looking back.

Katharina squeezed her eyes shut, frustrated with herself. “Idiot…” she murmured, turning over again in bed. The transparent lingerie she was wearing was comfortable, light, but even that seemed to irritate her. Nothing was right. Nothing fit. She was trapped in that memory, reliving the entire fight over and over.

“I’m so stupid…” she murmured again, pulling the sheet up to her waist.

But it hadn’t just been the phrase. It was everything that came before. Sapphire talking like that. So loose. So shameful. So… intense. That comment about wanting to share intimacy with her and Vergil. That had been too much. Even by her mother’s exaggerated standards. But Katharina knew, deep down, that Sapphire hadn’t said it to hurt her. Sapphire spoke her own way, without any filter, especially when she was drunk.

Still… it hurt. And she responded the wrong way. On impulse. In shock.

And now she was there. In a hotel room in the Caribbean, far from everything, running from the problem like an idiot.

She turned her back to the door. She stared at the white wall for a few seconds, breathing slowly, trying to calm her chest that insisted on tightening.

She needed to stop thinking about it. She needed to sleep. She needed to forget. She needed—

KNOCK KNOCK.

Katharina froze at the second knock. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She hadn’t warned anyone. She hadn’t left a trace. She chose that hotel precisely because it was secluded, discreet, and no one in her inner circle should know where she was.

She sat up slowly, listening to see if the sound would repeat itself.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Sharper this time.

She closed her eyes. She didn’t know why, but she felt a shiver run down her neck. A strange shiver. Familiar. She slid her legs off the bed and stood up. The transparent lingerie barely concealed anything, but she didn’t even think about that. She walked barefoot to the door, the cold floor touching her feet.

Her hand hovered for a moment on the doorknob. She didn’t know what to expect. Part of her thought it was room service. Another part thought it was just some employee knocking on the wrong number.

But something… deep down… told her it wasn’t that.

She opened the door.

And her whole body froze.

Vergil was there.

Standing in the hallway. The yellow hotel light shone on his shoulders. His clothes were slightly wrinkled from the quick trip. His hair was disheveled. His chest rose and fell slowly, but heavily. And his eyes… red. Not normal gleams. The gleam of someone holding too much at once.

Katharina blinked twice, too surprised to close the door, run, scream, or do anything else.

She simply stood there, staring at him.

Unable to contain herself, her lips curled into an almost childlike pout. Her body relaxed as if she had recognized something too important. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a trembling sigh, laden with relief and accumulated shame.

“Why did you take so long… husband…” she murmured, her voice low and choked.

It wasn’t provocation. It wasn’t charm. It was just raw sincerity escaping her defenses.

Vergil didn’t answer immediately. He stood still, looking her up and down. The red glint in his eyes jumped once, as if he were holding something enormous inside. His jaw clenched.

One second. Two. Three.

Katharina felt her stomach churn.

He really was nervous. Very nervous. Not the explosive kind, but the quiet, focused kind. The kind that meant he had crossed half the world in a hurry.

Because of her.

Vergil took a deep breath. And when he opened his mouth, his voice came out low, firm, with that tone that came when he was more worried than angry.

“Why did you run away for four days?”

Katharina felt her heart pound so hard it hurt. Her throat tightened. Her legs went weak. And the shame came rushing back all at once. Running away had been stupid. And she knew it. But hearing him say it out loud… hearing him count the days…

It burned.

In the right way. The way she remembered him calling.

“Husband!” she said, jumping and hugging him.