Free Web NovelChapter 12: The Scripted Pregnancy
Nathan/ Seraphel
"Tell me, little omega, are you truly pregnant for me?"
The words from Lust itself should have terrified me. They should have made me claw at the obsidian floor, begging for my life, especially considering the mercilessly dark, depraved nature author Nude, had given him in the novel.
But the way he spoke—slow, elegant, his voice wrapped in a soft, deceptive velvet—sent a violent shiver straight down my spine. It didn’t just evoke fear, it triggered a humiliating, electric spark of pleasure that coiled deep in my lower stomach, making my whole body tingle in a way I couldn’t control.
Then, the true agony hit.
In an instant, my knees buckled. It felt as if every single muscle in my body had been set ablaze, targeted by an invisible, agonizing pressure. The sensation was horrific—as if my flesh were being systematically shredded to microscopic pieces, ground into dust, and then brutally stitched back together just to endure the cycle again.
Azriel’s crimson eyes flared with a brighter, more lethal luminescence when I didn’t answer immediately.
Even while oozing an intoxicating, magnetic desire that scrambled my senses, he was effortlessly crushing me with absolute mind control, making my very fibers ache under his whim. freeweɓnovel.cѳm
That was what made him the most terrifying creature among the sins. He didn’t need to rage or scream because his danger was quiet, simple, and utterly absolute.
"I despise being kept waiting, omega," Azriel murmured, the soft words carrying a jagged edge.
Suddenly, a thick, suffocating black smoke began to bleed from his skin, swirling around us. With it came the heavy, overwhelming scent of black orchid, the bitter tang of red spider lilies, and the sweetness of night-blooming lily.
His pheromones and they all slammed into me all at once.
According to what Nude had written about his lore, the mere scent of Lust’s true pheromones was toxic enough to rot a mortal’s lungs from the inside out.
But I was alive. Barely.
I gasped for air, my chest seizing, convinced that I was about to become his next Victim.
I’m going to die here, I thought.
"Not yet," Azriel’s voice whispered directly inside my skull, bypassing my ears entirely. "I will gladly mount your head on a spike and grant you a one-way journey to purgatory. But first, who the hell sent you here to spin these fairy tales? And how is an omega carrying my blood?"He demanded the answer, his tone rising, yet no matter how much authority or anger the Prince of Lust injected into his words, that haunting, melodic softness never left his voice.
It was like being caressed by a silken blade.
Then, his grip tightened around my throat, cutting off what little air I had left, a wicked grin stretching across his flawless face.
"And stop filling your head with things I cannot understand. ’’ I have no interest in whatever or whoever this ’Author Nude’ is in your mind, omega," he hissed into my thoughts. "Was it Lumiel? Did the Prince of Wrath send you to play these petty games with me?" he asked out loud.
My eyes widened in sheer panic through the haze of my choking.
Why on earth would he suspect his own brother of sending a spy to lie to him? But I didn’t have the luxury to unpack the complex, toxic family dynamics of the deadly sins right now. I had a script to stick to. I had to maintain the pregnancy lie, bide my time, find a way to slit his throat, and pray that when his royal guards inevitably retaliated and slaughtered me, I would wake up back in my own bed, far away from this nightmare.
But to execute a lie, I had to shut him out completely. I needed to block my thoughts from his invasive telepathy.
Fortunately, I remembered one crucial detail from reading the novel: To blind the mind of Lust, one must draw blood.
Desperate, I curled my fingers inward, driving my blunt nails relentlessly into the center of my palms. I dug deeper, ignoring the stinging ache, until the flesh finally gave way and I felt the warm, metallic stickiness of fresh blood pooling against my skin.
The sudden flash of physical pain acted like an iron curtain, instantly locking my mind down and hiding my true intentions.
I forced a deep, ragged breath past my bruised airway and gave a slow, fragile nod.
"Yes... I am pregnant with your child, Your Highness," I managed to squeak out, my voice trembling violently as the words left my lips.
No matter what horror awaited me next, survival was the only option.
"Look at me when you speak to me, human," Azriel commanded, his tone dropping to a dangerous purr.
I forced my chin up, staring directly into the terrifying depths of his crimson eyes while suffocating on his scent. I swallowed the lump in my throat and repeated the lie with as much conviction as I could muster. "Yes, Your Highness. I am carrying your child."
Azriel’s eyes dilated in genuine shock. Instantly, the oppressive, toxic cloud of his pheromones vanished, snapped back into his body as if it had never been there. The crushing weight on my neck dissolved as he abruptly let go of me.
I collapsed onto the polished black marble, hacking violently, my hands immediately flying to my throat as I tried to drag oxygen back into my starved lungs.
Through my blurred vision, I glanced sideways at Malachi. The commander stood there like an unmoving stone statue, completely unfazed by the lethal aura that had just filled the room. Then, I caught the glint of a thin, enchanted obsidian mask covering his nose and mouth. He had shielded himself before the Prince even released his scent as if he was already used to it.
"So, you tiny, fragile creature... you claim to be pregnant by me?" Azriel mused. He crouched down to my level, descending over my crumpled form until his bare, flawless chest was mere inches from my face. "A pathetic little omega, a mortal from the lowest dirt, expects me to believe he is carrying the child of Sin?" frёewebnoѵēl.com
My breath hitched, my eyes widening as I found myself staring at the terrifyingly perfect contours of his torso.
The author really hadn’t spared any details; every line, muscle, and curve of his immortal form looked as if it had been sculpted by a god obsessed with perfection.
Azriel caught me staring.
A wicked, knowing grin played on his lips as he watched my eyes wander. Before I could look away, he casually extended a long, elegant finger, pressing the pad of his thumb firmly against the center of my forehead.
He closed his eyes.
Suddenly, a rush of memories slammed into my brain, flashing behind my eyelids like a rapid-fire film reel. I saw Seraphel’s entire miserable life play out—the abuse from his tyrannical uncle and aunt, the cold hunger of the streets, and the exact night he was sold off to the Asmodeus Palace to be thrown into the jaws of Azriel’s violent, lethal rut.
Just as quickly as the storm of memories had started, it snapped shut.
I gasped, panting for air, realizing with a chill that Azriel had just effortlessly rifled through my mind, peeling back the layers of Seraphel’s past.
"You weren’t sent by Lumiel," he murmured, the grin returning to his face as his finger traced a slow, agonizing path down the slope of my jawline. "And you bear no allegiance to Elysium. You are exactly what you appear to be. A regular mortal human. So tell me..." His finger hooked under my chin, his gaze boring so deeply into mine it felt as though he were physically weighing my soul. "How the hell did you survive the depravity of Lust itself, retain my sacred celestial mark, and live to claim you are pregnant?"
He couldn’t hear the frantic thoughts screaming behind my eyes because my palms were still bleeding, keeping the mental barrier tightly sealed.
But goodness, keeping him out of my head was becoming the least of my problems. His sheer proximity was doing something entirely different to my body.
Instead of focusing on how to assassinate him and end this twisted daydream, my eyes kept betraying me, dropping down to his lips.
A dark, terrifying rush of adrenaline flooded my veins, and to my absolute horror, I could feel a heavy, throbbing heat pooling between my thighs. My own cock was betraying me, reacting directly to his lethal charm.
This isn’t the mission, I reminded myself in a desperate, silent panic. Get it together.
I let out a shaky, silent sigh of relief the moment Azriel finally pulled away, breaking the suffocating proximity.
When I blinked and looked up, he was already gone from the floor. In a literal fraction of a second, he was back up on his grand dais, lounging elegantly on his throne with his eyes closed, resting his chin lazily on the back of his hand.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird as I stared up at him.
"Summon the royal physician and the high priest, Malachi," Azriel directed softly, his voice echoing through the vast, empty throne room. Then, his eyelids fluttered open, his crimson gaze locking onto me from across the distance with a predatory, wicked amusement. "Let us find out if this human speaks the truth, or if his pretty little head will end up decorating a spike by nightfall. I do not know what miracle allowed you to survive my bed, mortal, but I can promise you this. you will deeply regret attempting to lie to a Sin."
Malachi bowed low, his form dissolving into the shadows and disappearing in the blink of an eye.
Suddenly, the grand throne room fell completely silent. I was left entirely alone in the presence of Lust.
By all accounts, I should have been suffocating under the terror of my situation, plotting my next move or figuring out how to survive the impending medical examination.
But as I knelt there on the cold marble floor, looking at the creature on the throne, all I could focus on was the heavy, ache of my own body, desperately craving the very monster who had threatened to kill me.
