The heat didn't fade as we moved deeper into the Velvet District.
If anything, it intensified. What had been oppressive at the border became intimate here, wrapping around my skin like invisible hands that knew exactly where to touch. The perfume in the air grew thicker, layered with scents I couldn't name but recognized instinctively. Arousal. Desperation. Satisfaction still warm and recent.
Rissa walked close beside me, her tail wrapped firmly around my wrist. Not possessive exactly, but anchoring. Her yellow eyes tracked every movement around us, cataloging threats and exits with the instinct of someone who'd survived here through vigilance alone.
"Stay alert," she murmured. "The Velvet doesn't attack directly. It seduces. It distracts. And while you're distracted, someone else makes their move."
The streets were busier than I'd expected. Demons moved with purpose between buildings, some naked, some wearing just enough to draw attention to what they'd left uncovered. Conversations happened in doorways and on balconies, bodies pressed close not from lack of space but from choice. Laughter mixed with moans, creating a constant background hum that felt designed to wear down resistance.
And they were watching us.
Not openly. Not obviously. But I felt their attention like pressure against my skin. Eyes tracking from shadows and silk-draped alcoves. Conversations pausing mid-sentence as we passed. The kind of awareness that came when something new and potentially dangerous entered familiar territory.
A succubus lounged against a pillar ahead, her body barely covered by strategically placed chains. Her skin was deep purple, her curves exaggerated to the point of obscenity. When I met her eyes, she smiled slowly and ran her tongue across her lips. An invitation that was anything but subtle.
I looked away without responding.
Her smile faltered, confusion flickering across her features before she recovered.
"They're testing you," Rissa said quietly. "Seeing if you'll bite. If you do, you won't make it ten feet before someone stronger claims you were 'seduced' and therefore fair game."
"Noted."
We kept walking, boots striking stone in steady rhythm. The street widened into a plaza where the crowd thickened considerably. More demons now, moving between what were clearly pleasure houses based on the sounds filtering through their entrances. Music drifted from somewhere deeper in, rhythmic and hypnotic, designed to lower inhibitions and raise other things.
I noticed the surveillance then.
Small things. A demon on a balcony who wasn't participating in the activity around her, just watching. Another leaning against a wall with eyes that tracked too precisely. A third who shifted position to maintain line of sight as we moved.
"We're being assessed," I said.
Rissa's tail tightened. "I told you. The moment you entered Velvet territory, Asmodea knew. She's watching through her network. Deciding whether you're a threat, a toy, or something worth her personal attention."
"And how does she usually decide?"
"By seeing how you handle the tests."
As if on cue, a male demon stepped into our path.
He was tall, maybe seven feet, with crimson skin darker than Rissa's and horns that curved back from his temples in wicked points. His body was muscular in that exaggerated way that spoke of intimidation over function. He wore leather straps across his chest and nothing else, his arousal on full display and clearly intentional.
"Human," he said, voice deep and amused. "You're far from home."
I stopped walking. Rissa's tail tightened around my wrist.
"So I've been told," I replied evenly.
He looked me up and down with obvious disdain, then his gaze shifted to Rissa. His expression changed. Recognition mixed with something that looked almost like disbelief.
"Rissa," he said, actually laughing now. "You're following someone? You?" He gestured at her dismissively. "The imp who told every demon in Lust to fuck off for the last decade is suddenly playing pet?"
Rissa's whole body went rigid. "Back off, Krane."
"This is rich," he continued, circling us now. "Little Rissa, too proud to submit to anyone, too weak to claim anyone, just scrapping by in the gutters. And now she's what? Attached herself to some fresh human who doesn't even smell like he's survived a day down here?"
My jaw tightened. The implication was clear. Rissa had been alone. Unclaimed. Not because she'd moved between masters, but because she'd refused to belong to anyone.
Until me.
"He doesn't look like much," Krane said, stepping closer to me now. "Smells clean. Probably hasn't even—"
I hit him.
No warning. No buildup. Just a straight punch to the center of his chest.
The impact was immediate and absolute.
His chest caved inward with a wet crunch that echoed across the plaza. His eyes went wide, mouth opening in shock that never became sound. Then his entire body flew backward, launching through the air like he'd been fired from a cannon.
He didn't just fall.
He flew.
Thirty feet. Forty. His body tumbling end over end until he hit the wall of a building with enough force to crater the stone. The impact sprayed chunks of obsidian across the street. When he finally slid down to the ground, he wasn't moving.
Wasn't breathing.
Just a broken, twitching thing that had learned very suddenly what real strength looked like.
Silence descended across the plaza.
Every demon within sight had stopped moving. Stopped talking. Every eye was now locked on me with a mix of shock and reassessment that was almost palpable.
I lowered my fist slowly, rolling my shoulder once. No pain. No soreness. Just that same perfect responsiveness I'd carried since Earth.
"Anyone else?" I asked, my voice cutting through the silence.
No one answered.
No one moved.
Rissa was staring up at me with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open. "You... you just killed Krane."
"He was rude," I said.
"He was one of Asmodea's lieutenants," she hissed, though there was awe beneath the alarm. "You just announced yourself to the entire Velvet District."
"Good." I started walking again, stepping over scattered debris without breaking stride. "Saves time."
The crowd parted for us now. Demons pressed themselves against walls and into doorways, creating a clear path forward. The watching eyes had multiplied, but the quality of attention had changed.
No longer curiosity.
Recognition.
Fear.
A demon girl with pale pink skin and small horns made a soft sound as I passed, her thighs pressing together involuntarily. Another, this one with midnight blue scales, bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, her pupils dilating as she tracked my movement.
"They're aroused," Rissa whispered, sounding almost scandalized. "You just killed one of their enforcers and half of them are getting wet from it."
"This is Lust," I said. "Violence is just another kind of foreplay."
She laughed, breathless and slightly unhinged. "You're going to fit in perfectly here."
We walked deeper into the district, and I felt the surveillance intensify. More watchers now. More attention. Somewhere ahead, in whatever palace or pleasure house she ruled from, Asmodea was receiving reports.
Learning what I was.
Deciding how to handle me.
I smiled.
Let her try.
The plaza opened into a wider thoroughfare lined with what could only be described as temples to indulgence. Grand structures with silk banners hanging from every surface, their entrances guarded by demons who wore authority like clothing. Music poured from each building, different rhythms competing and somehow harmonizing into something that made my blood warm.
"The Heart of Velvet," Rissa said, her voice tinged with something like reverence. "Every building here belongs directly to Asmodea. Her court. Her domain. Her rules."
"And where is she?"
Rissa pointed toward the largest structure at the far end of the street. It rose higher than the others, its architecture more elaborate, covered in red silk that moved in waves despite the still air. "The Crimson Palace. That's where she holds court. Where she..." Rissa trailed off, swallowing hard. "Where she breaks the ones who think they're strong enough."
I studied the building, taking in its scale and grandeur. It dominated the district, impossible to miss, impossible to ignore. A statement of power that didn't need words.
"Has anyone ever actually beaten her?" I asked.
"No," Rissa said quietly. "Not in centuries. Demons have tried. Strong ones. Smart ones. They all end up the same. Collared. Devoted. Convinced that serving her is the greatest pleasure they could ever experience."
"Sounds like she's good at what she does."
"The best." Rissa's tail tightened around my wrist. "That's what makes her dangerous. She doesn't just dominate. She makes you want it. Makes submission feel like the most natural thing in the world."
Before I could respond, movement on the palace balcony caught my eye.
A figure appeared there, stepping into view with the kind of presence that made everything else fade into background noise.
Even from this distance, even with the crowd between us, I felt her attention lock onto me like a physical touch.
Rissa went completely still beside me. "That's her," she breathed. "That's Asmodea."
The demon on the balcony was tall, even by Hell's standards. She stood with perfect posture, spine straight, radiating authority and sensuality in equal measure. Her skin was a deep, burnished red that seemed to glow in the crimson light, richer and darker than any demon I'd seen so far. It looked warm, inviting, the kind of skin that promised softness despite the power beneath.
Her body was a study in excess done right.
Where Rissa was small and lean, built for speed and survival, Asmodea was pure indulgence. Curves that defied reasonable proportion but somehow worked, creating a silhouette that drew the eye and refused to release it. Her breasts were large and full, barely contained by the white silk dress she wore, the fabric so sheer it might as well not exist. I could see the dark peaks of her nipples through the material, could see how they stood rigid against the silk. The dress clung to every curve, following the line of her waist before flaring slightly at her hips.
Where Lilith's body spoke of controlled elegance and ancient restraint, Asmodea's was an open invitation. Shameless. Proud. A weapon she wielded with absolute mastery.
Long black hair cascaded down her back in waves, contrasting sharply with her red skin and white dress. Her face was beautiful in a way that felt dangerous rather than delicate. Sharp cheekbones, full lips painted the same deep crimson as her skin, and eyes that glowed with actual amber light. Not metaphorically glowing. Actually luminous, burning with an inner fire that seemed to look through distance and see directly into me.
She smiled.
Even from here, I saw it. Slow. Knowing. The smile of someone who'd already decided how this would end and was simply enjoying the journey there.
"She knows you're here," Rissa whispered. "She's been watching the whole time."
"How long until she makes a move?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the balcony.
"She already is," Rissa said. "This is the move. Letting you see her. Letting you know she's aware of you. Making you come to her."
The demon queen raised one hand in what might've been a greeting or might've been a dismissal. The gesture was elegant, controlled, and somehow mocking all at once.
Then she turned and disappeared back into the palace, the silk curtains falling closed behind her.
The moment she was gone, I felt the pressure in the air shift. The surveillance intensified, but it had changed quality. No longer assessment.
Anticipation.
"What happens now?" I asked.
Rissa looked up at me, her yellow eyes wide and uncertain. "Now she decides whether to invite you to the palace or send her court to test you first." She paused, tail unwinding from my wrist only to wrap around my waist instead. Tighter. More possessive. "Either way, Alex, she's going to come for you. And when she does..."
She didn't finish the sentence.
She didn't need to.
I stared at the closed silk curtains where Asmodea had vanished, feeling something stir in my chest. Not fear. Not quite anticipation either.
Hunger.
The same hunger that had driven me to Hell in the first place.
Finally, something that might actually be worth the effort.
"Good," I said quietly.
Rissa shivered against me, and I couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement.
Maybe both.
The Crimson Palace loomed ahead of us, impossibly large, impossibly red, waiting like an open mouth.
And somewhere inside, Asmodea was already planning exactly how to devour me.