How I Married KING Of HELL

Beneath the Surface

Chapter 7

The descent was endless, the walls of the stairwell narrowing the deeper they went. The flames above were replaced by a cold, suffocating darkness. Emily's breath quickened as Lucien led her further into the unknown. His presence beside her was a constant reminder of the power he wielded, and though she followed, a part of her remained wary.

Each step brought with it a rising tension in the air, a sense that they were nearing something ancient and terrible. Emily's skin prickled as they reached the bottom of the staircase and stepped into a massive underground cavern. The air was thick, almost tangible, as if it were alive and pressing against her skin.

Lucien stopped at the edge of a vast abyss. The ground fell away into darkness, and far below, Emily could hear the faint whisper of something—something moving, something breathing. She shivered, despite the oppressive heat that clung to the walls.

"What is this place?" she asked, her voice echoing in the emptiness.

Lucien stood tall, his gaze fixed on the darkness below. "This is the heart of Hell. The source of its power. The flames above are merely the surface. What lies beneath is far older, far more dangerous."

Emily took a cautious step closer to the edge, peering down into the abyss. She could see nothing but blackness, an endless void that seemed to stretch forever. The whispers grew louder, more distinct, and for a moment, she thought she could hear voices—voices calling her name.

She took a step back, her heart racing. "What's down there?"

Lucien's eyes flicked to hers, a dark smile tugging at his lips. "The souls of the ancient damned. They are the original rulers of this realm, long before I took the throne. They have been bound here, feeding the power that sustains Hell. But they are restless."

Emily's stomach twisted. She had known Hell was a place of torment, but this... this was something else. The idea that there were beings more ancient, more powerful than Lucien, trapped beneath the surface, sent a chill through her.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked, her voice quieter now, unsure.

Lucien turned to her, his gaze intense. "Because you must understand the nature of your power. You've only scratched the surface of what Hell can offer you. To truly command this realm, you need to connect with its deepest sources."

Emily's breath hitched. "You want me to tap into... that?" She gestured toward the abyss, disbelief lacing her words. "That's impossible."

Lucien stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Nothing is impossible here. You are not just my queen, Emily. You are Hell's queen. This realm bends to you, but only if you let it."

Emily's pulse quickened. She could feel the weight of his words, the truth in them. But the thought of connecting with whatever ancient, dark power lay beneath the surface terrified her. She had already felt the pull of Hell's energy—its fire, its darkness—and it was growing harder to resist. If she delved deeper, what would happen to her? Would she become something worse than she already feared?

"I don't want that kind of power," she said, her voice trembling. "I just want to survive."

Lucien's expression softened, though his eyes still held that dangerous gleam. "Power is the only way to survive here, Emily. If you do not control it, it will control you."

His words echoed in her mind, the weight of them sinking deeper into her chest. She knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier. The more she learned about Hell, the more she realized how little she truly understood. And now, faced with the prospect of delving into its darkest corners, she wasn't sure she was ready.

Lucien turned back to the abyss, raising his hand. The air around them shifted, and slowly, the darkness below began to swirl, revealing faint outlines of figures moving within it. Emily's breath caught as she saw them—souls, twisted and deformed, writhing in the depths of the abyss. Their faces were contorted with agony, their voices a constant, low murmur of despair.

"This is the power you must learn to command," Lucien said, his voice low. "The souls of the damned. They will obey you, but only if you show them that you are worthy."

Emily's stomach churned. The sight of the writhing souls was horrifying, and the idea of commanding them—of using them—was almost too much to bear. She had never asked for this power, never wanted it. But now, it seemed like there was no other choice.

"How do I do that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Lucien's gaze met hers, steady and unflinching. "You must embrace your role as queen. These souls are bound to Hell, just as you are. But they fear strength. Show them that you are stronger than their despair, and they will follow you."

Emily's heart pounded in her chest. She had never seen herself as a queen, let alone one who could command the damned. But as she stood at the edge of the abyss, staring into the swirling darkness, a strange feeling began to stir within her. It was faint, but it was there—a flicker of something powerful, something ancient, buried deep inside her.

She could feel the pull of the abyss, the whispers calling her name, and for the first time, she didn't immediately recoil. Instead, she took a deep breath and stepped closer to the edge, her eyes locked on the swirling souls below.

"What do I have to do?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her.

Lucien's eyes gleamed with approval. "You must command them. Call to them, and they will answer."

Emily swallowed hard, her heart racing as she stared down at the abyss. She could feel the power beneath her, a dark, pulsing energy that seemed to resonate with her own. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, focusing on the swirling mass of souls below.

"Obey me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

For a moment, nothing happened. The souls continued to writhe and twist, their whispers growing louder, but there was no response. Emily's heart sank, doubt creeping in.

But then, slowly, the whispers began to change. The souls' movements stilled, their murmur of despair shifting into something else—something like recognition. The darkness seemed to thicken, the air growing heavier as the souls turned their attention to her.

Emily's eyes flew open, her breath catching in her throat. The abyss had gone silent, the swirling mass of souls now eerily still. And then, one by one, they began to rise, drifting toward the surface like smoke. Their faces, twisted in agony, were now focused solely on her.

She had done it. She had commanded them.

Lucien's voice was quiet but filled with satisfaction. "Well done."

Emily's heart raced, her mind spinning. She had tapped into the power of Hell, and it had answered her call. But as the souls hovered before her, their empty eyes fixed on her, a dark realization settled in her chest.

This power was dangerous. And now that she had unlocked it, there was no turning back.