I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Nathan lay sprawled beside Azariah on the rumpled silk sheets, their bodies still slick with sweat and the lingering heat of their lovemaking.

“I… I really missed this,” Azariah whispered, her voice husky and still breathless. Her cheeks glowed with a deep flush that spread down her neck and across the tops of her breasts.

Nathan turned his head, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “And I missed your body,” he murmured against her skin, his hand sliding down to cup the curve of her hip possessively. “Every inch of it.”

Azariah let out a soft, contented laugh, shifting so she could face him fully. Her white hair spilled across the pillows like ink on parchment. “I wish we could do this every day,” she said, a wistful smile curving her lips.

“We can,” Nathan replied simply, his fingers threading through her hair.

But Azariah shook her head gently, though her smile remained. “You have a lot of women to satisfy. And I have my duties as queen—they already steal too much of my time. I’m content as long as you never forget me.”

Nathan’s expression softened, but his eyes burned with quiet intensity. He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a slow, lingering kiss. “I will never forget any woman I’ve laid my hands on,” he promised, voice low and rough. “Especially not you.”

Azariah’s smile turned playful, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “So I suppose you won’t forget my sister after tonight, then.”

Nathan had known this moment was coming. For the past two years—ever since Ameriah had returned from Rome—she had been relentless. Clinging to him, brushing against him in the corridors, whispering bold promises in his ear when no one else could hear. He had delayed, wanting to be certain it was truly what she desired, what Azariah approved of. But tonight, Ameriah had finally cornered him, her voice steady and sure: she wanted him to be the one. She wanted to give him her virginity.

Azariah had not only consented—she had encouraged it. “There is no better man for her,” she had told him earlier, eyes gleaming with affection for both her sister and her lover.

“Did she tell you?” Nathan asked now, glancing at Azariah.

Azariah laughed softly, a warm, melodic sound. “She wanted advice. She was nervous, but excited. Very excited.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow, amused. “I don’t think she needs any advice. She’s been quite… assertive.”

Ameriah had indeed grown into a confident young woman—bold, passionate, and utterly unafraid of what she wanted. The shy girl who had once blushed at his touch was gone, replaced by someone who knew exactly how to tease and tempt him.

“She just doesn’t want to disappoint you,” Azariah said gently. “She’s still a little anxious, deep down I suppose”

Nathan smiled. “I doubt she’ll disappoint me. She’s your sister, after all.”

Azariah’s expression turned fond. “I’m just worrying like a big sister should.”

“You’re underestimating her,” Nathan said, his tone warm but firm. “She’s not a child anymore. She’s grown through a lot these past two years—Rome changed her, but not in the way you fear. She’s ready.”

Azariah sighed, conceding with a small nod. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Nathan shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at Azariah. “Your sister will be fine. I’ll take care of her tonight.” His voice dropped lower, laced with dark promise. “But right now… I’m taking care of you.”

Before Azariah could respond, he rolled her gently but decisively onto her stomach. She let out a soft gasp as he lifted her hips, positioning her on her knees with her back arched beautifully. Her ass lifted into his hands—round, firm, and still flushed from their earlier exertions. Between her thighs, her pussy glistened, swollen and dripping with their combined release, a creamy white trail slowly leaking from her core.

Nathan groaned low in his throat at the sight. “Look at you,” he murmured, running his thumbs along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. “Still so wet… still so greedy for me.”

“Haaa~ Nathan…” Azariah moaned, pushing back instinctively as she felt the thick head of his cock nudge against her entrance.

He didn’t tease her for long. With one slow thrust, he buried himself inside her again, stretching her slick walls around his length. Azariah cried out, fingers clawing at the sheets, her back bowing deeper.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes—”

Nathan’s hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he began to move—long, powerful strokes that had her moaning with every thrust. He admired the way her ass jiggled with each impact, the way her pussy clenched around him like it never wanted to let go. He leaned over her, pressing kisses along her spine, one hand sliding beneath to find her clit and rub slow, firm circles.

Just as he was building toward a rougher rhythm—ready to fuck her hard and deep until she screamed—a sharp knock echoed through the chamber.

“Your Majesty, the Prince is awake.”

Semiramis’s calm, professional voice cut through the haze of lust.

“And… the council is waiting for you, Lord Commander,” she added, a faint note of amusement in her tone. She knew exactly what they were doing.

Nathan let out a low, frustrated growl, his hips stilling. Azariah whimpered in protest as he slowly withdrew, his cock glistening with their combined fluids.

“Duty calls,” he muttered, pressing one last lingering kiss to the small of her back before climbing off the bed.

Azariah collapsed onto her stomach, breathless and smiling despite the interruption. “Go. I’ll watch over Azarel.”

Nathan pulled on his trousers and tunic, adjusting himself with a grimace. He leaned down to kiss her deeply, tasting the salt of her skin.

Nodding to Azariah in acknowledgment of her concern, Nathan turned and left the bedroom, pulling the door open carefully to avoid making unnecessary noise .

The moment he stepped into the adjacent chamber, he heard it—Azarel’s crying, that distinctive newborn wail that could pierce through even the thickest walls and the deepest sleep . The baby had clearly been disturbed by something, his peaceful slumber shattered by whatever infant discomfort had seized him .

Nathan moved immediately toward the small ornate bed where his son lay, reaching down with one large hand to gently pat the baby’s fine white hair with soothing strokes . The touch was tender despite the size difference, his calloused warrior’s hand somehow knowing exactly how much pressure to apply to comfort without overwhelming .

Azarel’s crying began to slow almost immediately, the desperate wails diminishing to quieter whimpers and then to silence as his tiny red eyes—so like his mother’s—blinked open and focused on Nathan’s face hovering above him. Recognition seemed to dawn in those infant eyes, some instinctive understanding that this presence meant safety and love .

Smiling with paternal affection, Nathan then turned his attention to Semiramis, who stood waiting patiently near the doorway, and followed her out into the corridor while Azariah emerged from the bedroom wearing a modest robe. The Queen immediately went to Azarel and lifted him into her arms with practiced maternal ease, cradling him against her chest where he settled contentedly .

“The young prince seems quite healthy,” Semiramis observed as they walked through the castle’s elaborate corridors, her tone carrying notes of genuine approval. “Strong lungs, good color, responsive to stimuli. He shows every indication of growing into a formidable heir.”

The corridors they traversed were grand and imposing, befitting a demon kingdom’s seat of power. High vaulted ceilings soared overhead, supported by pillars carved with intricate designs depicting Tenebria’s history and mythology .

Every demon noble, knight, or servant they encountered in those corridors immediately stopped whatever they were doing and bowed their heads deeply upon spotting Nathan. The gestures weren’t perfunctory or grudging, but carried genuine respect—sometimes even bordering on reverence. Eyes lowered submissively as he passed, and no one dared speak or move until he had continued beyond them .

It had been three full years since Nathan had accepted the position of Lord Commander of Tenebria, and in that time the kingdom had undergone dramatic transformation. The military had been reorganized and strengthened, corruption had been ruthlessly purged from the administrative ranks, alliances had been forged and reinforced, and the entire nation had grown considerably more powerful both militarily and economically .

More importantly for Nathan’s current standing, he himself had become a truly heroic and legendary figure throughout Tenebrian society. Despite being human rather than demon—or perhaps partially because of that unprecedented circumstance—he was known and celebrated as the Hero of Darkness. Stories of his exploits in battle, his strategic genius, and his loyalty to Queen Azariah had spread throughout every level of society. He was without question the most respected man in all of Tenebria, his authority second only to the Queen herself and in practical military matters often superseding even hers .

“He is healthy, as he should be with both Azariah’s and my blood flowing in his veins,” Nathan replied to Semiramis’s observation. “He inherited strength from both sides of his lineage .”

The statement was more accurate than it might initially appear. Azariah was half-demon and half-human, a hybrid that combined the best traits of both species . But the human half that Azarel had inherited through Nathan was far from ordinary . Nathan’s body had been completely reconstructed by divine power after it had been utterly disintegrated during the Trojan War—rebuilt from nothing by Thanatos who had infused it with their own essence in the process. That made Nathan technically a demigod in the truest sense of the term, possessing a physical form that was fundamentally divine rather than merely mortal. Which in turn meant that Azarel carried divine blood alongside his demonic heritage, making him something truly unique and potentially extraordinarily powerful .

Nathan caught a flicker of something across Semiramis’s beautiful features at his words—a brief expression that looked distinctly like envy before she suppressed it and returned her face to neutral pleasantness. He understood the source of that reaction but chose not to address it directly. Semiramis had her own complicated feelings about children and family, her own desires that circumstances had not yet allowed her to fulfill .

They continued walking in companionable silence until they finally arrived at their destination—the imposing doors leading to Tenebria’s council chamber .

The guards stationed at the entrance immediately pulled the heavy doors open upon their approach, revealing the large circular room beyond. It seemed everyone else had already arrived and taken their positions, waiting for Nathan’s presence to officially begin the meeting .

Nathan strode inside with confident authority and moved directly to the seat at the head of the circular table that dominated the chamber. Being the Lord Commander of Tenebria, this position belonged to him by right and custom—it was always his seat during these council meetings, the place from which he directed military strategy and made decisions that affected the entire kingdom .

Semiramis took the seat immediately to his right, her traditional position as both his second-in-command within the broader hierarchy and as Commander of the First Division.

Nathan allowed his golden demonic eyes to sweep slowly around the table, taking in each face gathered there with assessing attention. Every one of Tenebria’s active commanders was present, assembled as required for this strategic meeting .

Kratos sat directly across from Nathan, his massive frame making even the reinforced chair look slightly inadequate. He had short black hair that emphasized the numerous scars crisscrossing his face and visible on every inch of exposed skin—each mark a testament to battles survived and enemies defeated. His red eyes burned with fierce intensity beneath heavy brows, and his body was extraordinarily bulky and muscular, clearly the biggest and tallest person in the room by a considerable margin.

Kratos had been deeply wary of Nathan when they first met, skeptical of this human who had somehow earned Queen Azariah’s complete trust . He had openly opposed Nathan’s appointment as Lord Commander, arguing loudly that a demon should hold such a critical position in a demon kingdom But three years of serving under Nathan’s command had completely transformed that antagonism into genuine respect and even loyalty. Now Kratos served willingly and effectively as Vice Commander of the entire Demonic Army, Nathan’s right hand in all purely military matters.

Semiramis sat beside Nathan, her presence both elegant and commanding despite the relaxed posture she’d adopted. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of midnight silk, and her red eyes held depths of intelligence and calculation that reminded everyone why she commanded the First Division. Her figure was remarkably curvaceous, her large breasts drawing attention even in the formal military uniform she wore. She was Commander of the 1st Division of the Demonic Army—the elite unit, the most disciplined and effective fighting force Tenebria possessed .

Laguna occupied the next position, his appearance as chaotic as always. His messy blond hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks, sticking up in random directions that somehow suited his perpetually twisted smile That smile never quite left his face, giving him an unsettling quality that made even fellow demons slightly uncomfortable in his presence. He was Commander of the 2nd Division, specializing in unconventional warfare, guerrilla tactics, and operations that required a certain moral flexibility. Laguna had liked Nathan almost immediately, appreciating the human’s ruthless pragmatism and willingness to do whatever was necessary to achieve victory.

Megara sat small and compact in her chair, looking almost childlike compared to the imposing figures surrounding her. Her red hair was cut short in a practical military style, and her chest was notably flat—so much so that one might initially wonder if she was truly old enough or experienced enough to hold a command position . But that assumption would be dangerously wrong. Megara was Commander of the 3rd Division and absolutely lethal despite her unimposing appearance.

The last commander present was Kragen, a bald demon whose age showed in the weathered quality of his skin and the knowing gleam in his eyes. He was clearly the oldest commander at the table, having served Tenebria’s military for decades through multiple regime changes . He wore a perpetual grin that suggested he found the entire world vaguely amusing, a expression that somehow never seemed inappropriate even during serious discussions. Kragen had been among the fastest to accept Nathan as the new Lord Commander, recognizing competence and effectiveness regardless of species. His experience and institutional knowledge made him invaluable for understanding Tenebria’s complex history and political landscape .

These five commanders represented the entirety of Tenebria’s current military leadership below Nathan himself. There had been other demon commanders when Nathan first assumed his position three years ago, but he had systematically fired them all from the council. Each time the remaining commanders brought forward a new candidate to fill the gaps, Nathan rejected them, stating simply that he didn’t like them or didn’t find them suitable .

Kratos had obviously objected to this pattern, arguing that five commanders including himself wasn’t sufficient for efficiently managing an entire kingdom’s military forces. But he had eventually stopped trying to convince Nathan to expand the council after it became clear that Nathan’s standards were immovable .

Nathan had very high standards for who he allowed into his inner circle, and only these five met those exacting requirements. His criteria weren’t primarily about skill or experience—though all five were certainly competent—but rather about trust . He didn’t trust them personally in most cases, with Semiramis being the notable exception, but he trusted that they would do absolutely anything for the kingdom’s welfare. Their loyalty was to Tenebria and to Queen Azariah first, which meant Nathan could rely on them to act in the nation’s best interests even when he wasn’t present to supervise. That made them trustworthy in the way that mattered most for positions of such critical importance .

However, among all those gathered, the most trustworthy individual in the council chamber wasn’t any of the military commanders .

It was Cadell .

The elderly demon sat slightly apart from the commanders, his position at the table reflecting his role as advisor rather than active military leader. He leaned heavily on an ornate cane that was probably as old as he was, his body bent with age but his eyes still sharp and perceptive. His hair had gone completely white decades ago, and his face was a map of wrinkles that told stories of a long life filled with both triumph and tragedy .

Cadell had been a close personal friend of the Demon King back when that monarch was still good and uncorrupted—before one of Iblis’s beasts had wormed its way into his mind and transformed him into the tyrant that Nathan and Azariah had eventually been forced to overthrow. He had watched Azariah grow up from infancy, serving as a stabilizing presence and source of wisdom throughout her difficult childhood. His loyalty to her was absolute and unquestionable, rooted in genuine love rather than mere duty .

Nathan had obviously kept this wise man on the council without hesitation . Cadell’s decades of experience, his deep understanding of Tenebrian culture and politics, and his complete devotion to Azariah’s welfare made him irreplaceable .

Besides, both Azariah and her younger sister Ameriah had developed a relationship with Cadell that resembled a grandfather-granddaughter bond. He doted on them both, and they clearly cherished his presence and guidance. Nathan would never consider removing someone who brought such happiness to his women.