MATED TO THE SECRET ALPHA-Chapter 225: Vaurenox — The Demon god

"It was necessary to protect him." Helios countered.

"From what?" the demon god asked, lounging as if bored. "He’s a Supreme, isn’t he? He’s above High deities and they can’t bind him."

The words landed hard, like a slap against marble.

"Were you not listening?" Helios growled.

"Actually," he yawned. "I stopped listening before the meeting began."

"Of course," Helios smirked. "I’d be surprised if your divine ears ever did their job."

Vaurenox smirked, slow and feral. "Why would I waste my time listening?" He scoffed. "I already knew what this farce would be—a self-congratulatory trial where the equally guilty play judge. You fear what your own son has become, and instead of letting him be him– the demon that he is, you butchered his soul into neat little compartments. Bravo, meat seller."

He clapped, his mocking clap echoing in the stunned silence.

Aethera remained still, but a faint smile curled at the edge of her lips. She loved that Helios was getting called out.

"You’re accusing me of violating the Neutral Vow?" Helios barked, heat rising visibly from his form. "You, who corrupted mortal kings, who smuggled demonic cults through the soulstream, who poisoned temples with madness?"

"Details," Vaurenox drawled, inspecting a black-tipped claw. "I never touched a Supreme born under sky law. You did."

The council erupted in hushed murmurs, some appalled, Aethera thrilled. Powerplay among gods was nothing new—but this? This was a scandal soaked in blasphemy.

"You think this will win you favor with the boy?" Helios challenged. "He sees through you. That was why he didn’t accept his demonic side. You can’t get him, Vaurenox."

"Oh?" Vaurenox grinned. "Why don’t you give him to me for a couple of days? He’ll choose me in a heartbeat." He paused, "But then again." Vaurenox’s tone dropped, no longer lazy but disturbingly soft. "I don’t need him to favor me. I only need you to stop interfering and let him remember where his rage was born. And when he finally claims his full self, God of war... I hope you have a second son to butcher."

Varyn lifted a hand to the side of his head as though warding off an approaching headache. "Enough!" his staff came down with fire that shook the hall. Getting the silence he needed, he continued, voice like a thunderclap cutting through divine bickering:

"The next council convenes in ten mortal days. Prepare your truths, your defenses, and your answers. For on that day, the wheel will not be merciful."

With a final echoing crack of the staff, Varyn vanished in a blaze of golden mist, the Council seal burning bright for a heartbeat before dissolving into nothingness.

A group of ordinary goddesses appeared and binded Aethera with divine chains before escorting her out for her punishment. Before she left, she gave Helios a fleeting glance.

The gods and goddesses rose one by one, each disappearing in bursts of their essence—starlight, flame, shadow, feathers, and dust. Only a few lingered.

Now, it was just Helios and Vaurenox in the hall. His eyes blazed with fury and his pulsing aura, like a dying sun –bright but unstable– echoed his anger.

Vaurenox offered a lazy smile. "Say," he gestured toward the veiled Seat of Wrath, "isn’t it beautiful?" He clicked his tongue and tilted his head, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Do you remember the poem? The one our fathers taught us... hmm, how did it go again?" With a dark, clawed finger resting beneath his chiseled jaw in mock contemplation, he paused. "Ah—bingo!" he declared, and began:

"When moon and sun and star aligned,

The sky grew still, the clocks declined.

No bird did sing, no beast did stir,

The world held breath—it dreamt of her.

Born beneath the threefold night,

A child of shadow wrapped in light.

With earth eyes and fate untold,

She bore the key to gods grown old.

The Heavenly Throne, in fear, arose,

To snip her thread before it chose.

But time, once touched, began to fray,

And truths the gods had locked away...

Came crawling back on serpent’s spine,

And memories leaked through cracks in time.

The stars forgot their ancient names,

The past and future played cruel games.

The Emperor, proud and crowned in flame, fought himself in time’s own name.

He saw one path where she brought doom, another where she broke the gloom.

He split, he shattered, he stood, he fell—

In love, in wrath, in silence fell.

And in his place, a crimson seat,

Where past and prophecy still meet.

Now gods may rule, and kings may rise,

But none forget her earth eyes.

For when the veil again is lifted,

The child of Eclipse shall be born."

He exhaled softly. "Helios, do you think it’s true?"

"The old gods don’t lie," Helios growled.

"Is that so?" Vaurenox chuckled. "I’ve known plenty who did—and still do. Want to find out?" He grinned cunningly. "The Seat of Wrath can do that. It unmasks all liars. Once the veil is lifted, divine peace will reign again."

"Guess who’ll be the first to be erased," Helios said, voice cold with promise.

"You think it’s me." Vaurenox gave a mock sigh. "You hate me so much. Then you’ve got nothing to lose. Help me lift the veil, sit on it, and watch the seat devour me. I’ll be gone for good." He smiled darkly.

"It’s a win-win, God of War."

Helios’s scowl deepened. "Dream on, serpent."

Did Vaurenox truly think he could outwit him? Helios had survived wars older than him. Even his ancestor couldn’t make Helios bend, let alone Vaurenox.

He turned to leave, golden cloak stirring with divine heat—until Vaurenox’s voice dropped its lazy cadence.

"You’re scared, Helios."

Helios froze.

He didn’t turn. Didn’t speak. But his back stiffened—and in that stillness, Vaurenox knew he had struck a cord.

"You know what your son is," the demon god murmured, voice now solemn and sharp. "You agreed to send him to the mortal realm and sealed his power because you knew. You wanted him far from her. You’re trying to break them apart before the past repeats itself."

Vaurenox smiled coldly. "He can’t be your son. He’s not your son, Helios."

Helios spun, and in the same breath, unleashed a divine strike—golden light searing the air like a comet hurled by rage itself.

The demon god’s eyes widened but before he could block or dodge, it slammed into his chest with a thunderous boom –like a thunderclap– he staggered back a couple steps, smoke curling off his chest, he spat out a mouthful of blood, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he laughed—a low, guttural sound that echoed with something ancient and vile.

"Oh, there it is," he purred, brushing away the smoldering ash. "The wrath of Blade of the Sky."

Helios’s eyes burned brighter, his aura pulsing like a dying star about to explode.

"You speak of my son again," he growled, "and I’ll remind the realms why your kind hides in shadows."

Vaurenox’s smile remained, but his gaze sharpened. "You don’t have to remind anyone, Helios. The whole realm already knows." He stepped forward, voice turning to velvet poison. "If everyone knows what he truly is, do you think you can protect him?" he smirked. "I’m your friend, Helios. Give me the Seat of Wrath and your son...No, that boy, will leave a happy life like he wants. Otherwise..."

Silence stretched between them like a taut bowstring.

Then, with a mocking bow, Vaurenox whispered, "Sleep well, old friend."

And with a flare of black flame, the demon god vanished—leaving Helios alone in the echoing hall.