Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Devil you called: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

CHAPTER 19 The underworld had never felt so quiet. Not after a battle. Not after a conquest. The molten rivers glimmered in steady currents, shadows drifting lazily against walls of obsidian. But the calm was a lie. I could feel it — Malik could feel it — even the throne hummed with tension. He sat behind me, his back against mine, wings folded but ready. His presence was a tether, and even now, I leaned into him. The first hours of our reign had been intoxicating: the underworld recognized me, obeyed me. And yet, something deep in the marrow of the realm whispered that history was about to crash back. I knew that whisper well. “Stay sharp,” Malik murmured, brushing my hair from my face. “It’s coming.” Before I could respond, the shadows thickened at the edge of the throne room. A scent slithered through the air — something old, sweet, and poisonous. Lilith. I knew her energy before I saw her. Every fiber in my body screamed recognition: beauty, danger, history. When she

CHAPTER 21 Sarai woke before dawn, her breath catching in her throat like she’d been drowning in her sleep. The room was spinning—slow at first, then violently, like someone was pushing the whole underworld off balance. She gripped the edge of the bed, her knuckles whitening, nausea rising like a wave she couldn’t outrun.Not again.Not this early.Her stomach twisted so hard tears blurred her vision. She barely made it to the basin Malik kept near the wall—one of the only comforts he’d installed the moment she moved below. But this sickness wasn’t normal. Not human. Not demonic.It was hers.Inside her.Growing.When the retching calmed, she wiped her mouth with a shaking hand and sat back against the cold stone.The truth was a whisper she’d tried to kill for days.A whisper that refused to die.She touched her abdomen—barely, lightly—afraid that putting pressure on it would somehow make everything more real.It shouldn’t be possible.A human woman.A demon lover made of shadow and

CHAPTER 15 The night didn’t end. It didn’t even breathe. The underworld’s army pressed against Malik’s barrier like a living storm—claws scraping, voices hissing, shadows twisting into faces Sarai had never seen but somehow recognized from nightmares she hadn’t dreamed yet. Sarai stood behind Malik, fingers digging into the back of his shirt as the floor trembled again. Her stomach curled tight—not from fear. From the thing she refused to name. Malik shifted, wings stretching wider as he reinforced the barrier with another surge of power. His shadows lashed outward like whips made of midnight. “Stay behind me,” he growled again without looking back. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. But she was shaking. Not from the attack. From the truth growing inside her. Her chest tightened. If he felt it—if any of them did—she would lose everything. Malik noticed. He knew something was off. His eyes scanned her face, her hands trembling, the slight falter in her st

Part 2— The shadows kept slamming against the walls like waves made of screams and teeth. Malik felt the pressure of it in his bones — the Underworld was reacting, waking up, hunting for the source of the disturbance. Hunting for her. For them. Sarai’s knees buckled. Malik caught her instantly, sweeping her into his arms like she weighed nothing. “Hold on to me,” he said, voice low and sharp. Her fingers dug into his hoodie. “Malik—what’s happening?” “Heaven and Hell both felt that blast from the baby. They felt its signature. They’re coming.” Her breath stuttered. “For me or… for him?” Malik’s jaw clenched. “For both.” He didn’t run. Running was for prey. Malik glided through the fractured chamber, shadows bending out of his way like they feared him for the first time in centuries. But they weren’t afraid of him. They were afraid of what he carried. The child. The impossible. The threat. A demon-born heir carried by a human soul. Sarai hugged herse

CHAPTER eighteen The ground didn’t stop shaking. Dust drifted from the cavern ceiling in soft bursts, settling in Sarai’s hair as Malik pulled her deeper into the tunnel. His shadows were restless—writhing around his ankles like agitated serpents. “Malik, slow down,” Sarai whispered, breathless. “I—I can’t keep up.” He stopped instantly, turning to face her. His hands hovered, like he wanted to touch her but was afraid something in her might shatter. His voice was low, shaking with a mix of anger and worry. “They shouldn’t have felt that oath. No one should’ve felt it.” Sarai swallowed. She didn’t know if he meant the oath itself… or the spark inside her that reacted to it. She pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping he didn’t notice the way her fingers trembled. “Maybe it was just… loud magic?” she offered weakly. “No,” Malik said. “This was different. Older. Like something calling back.” Sarai’s heart dropped to her ankles. He felt it too. Not the baby—but