Lucifer Reborn 3

by Dante King

  Lucifer Reborn 3

  Dante King

  Copyright © 2021 by Dante King

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  v001

  Free harem books!

  Join my email newsletter to receive free ebooks of the epic fantasy novels, Dragon Atlas and Rune Mage.

  Like audiobooks? Sign up to my newsletter for a free audiobook of Immortal Swordslinger #1.

  Support Dante on Patreon!

  Read books before they’re on Amazon, see exclusive NSFW artwork, and check out sneak peeks into my writing process on Dante King’s Patreon.

  Become a Patron today at: https://geni.us/DanteKingPatreon

  Contents

  Free harem books!

  Support Dante on Patreon!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Support Dante on Patreon!

  Want More Stories?

  Facebook Fan Group

  Follow me on Amazon

  Immortal Swordslinger

  Bone Lord

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Hell is other people,” Christina said with a smile. “Specifically, it’s our fucking instructor.”

  The two of us soared through a flame-filled sky, ducking and diving through clouds of glittering, golden arrows.

  Behind us, a group of enraged angels carried bows the size of saplings, firing with a speed that felt utterly inhuman. Which made sense, because the creatures pursuing us weren’t human—hell, they weren’t even angels.

  This was the Wrath School, Christina’s major in the Infernal Academy—and today, this hellish arena was her playground.

  “He’s not that bad,” I teased, flapping my leathery wings against the current.

  I tossed a fireball over my shoulder as I twisted in mid-air. My fiery projectile blew one of the makeshift angels to tinder.

  “He’s just really gung ho about this whole murder thing,” I added. “Isn’t that what Wrath is all about?”

  Christina just groaned and rolled her eyes.

  There was a time in my life when I’d admired Christina Hebert from afar: today, I did the admiring up close and personal.

  Like every time we entered Wrath’s combat arena together, she’d fully embraced her demonic form—meaning she had long, curved horns and a sexy little tail flickering around her round, gorgeous ass. Her armor fit like it was painted on, barely covering more than a string bikini would back in the real world.

  Sometimes it was hard to remember there was a real world.

  A few months ago, I’d been a computer repairman, with little more than a van, a shitty apartment, and a bunch of hacker gear to my name. I’d been in business for myself, living the dream—until the day my old college crush Christina called me to fix the internet outage in her home.

  Instead of a virus or a dead antenna, I found a program belonging to the Prince of Darkness himself: Lucifer.

  Now I was Lucifer’s protégé, a potential candidate for Archlord of Hell, and dual enrolled in both Hell and Heaven’s collegiate program.

  Christina was my girl—but she was far from the only one. Every demon girl and angelic co-ed in both schools wanted a piece of me.

  Another of those golden arrows soared right past my head, close enough that I felt the wind of its passing.

  Damn it! I couldn’t afford to daydream.

  The sound of cheers from far below sharpened me—Christina and I had drawn a crowd, and from the way they yelled, they’d been even more worried about me taking a hit than I had.

  Above a sea of lava floated islands of obsidian, connected by long rope bridges. A group of demons stood on the farthest one, watching us fight.

  I caught sight of Bryan and Aztomund—the demons I’d sparred with the first time I came to the Wrath School. They waited for their turn but looked happy to see me and Christina kicking ass.

  The only person not thrilled was our instructor. A rotund, bald demon with the difficult to pronounce name of Shibboleth, he’d been yelling instructions through the din from almost the moment we took off. He made the drill instructors in Hollywood movies look tame by comparison.

  “Lift those thrice-damned arms, Bell! You want to be Lucifer’s brat, you better be able to kill like the Lord of Lies! Christina, check those corners—if that was a real angel, you’d have just taken an arrow between your tits!”

  “Would not,” Christina snickered, sounding offended. “Are you going to let him talk to me this way, baby?”

  It was a test, and I recognized it as such.

  “He’s the instructor,” I grunted, spraying a stream of fire at a holographic angel who’d drawn too close to Christina and me.

  The thing ducked out of the way, plummeting toward the lava like a stone, before catching an updraft and drawing its bow.

  “In here, his word is law.” I grinned. “If you want me to do something about it in an extracurricular fashion, then, well… you’ve just got to make it worth my time.”

  No doubt Christina knew exactly how to do that.

  She wasn’t just a card-carrying member of my harem—she was a Wrathlust, a type of demon that specialized in both fighting and fucking. She lived to do both, throwing herself into combat and the bedroom with equal amounts of enthusiasm.

  “Quit lollygagging and focus!” Shibboleth had noticed the way Christina and I paid more attention to each other than the angels. Clearly, he didn’t like it. “Do you maggots want to kill angels, or play grab ass?”

  “You’d almost think he doesn’t know we have a truce with the Celestial Academy,” Christina said wryly, flashing her fangs along with her smile. “A truce you brokered, Luke.”

  He’s just playing the long game, I thought, swallowing hard. Truces don’t last forever. And an alliance between Heaven and Hell is the sort of thing you could be forgiven for thinking wouldn’t last very long…

  Under normal circumstances, it would have been the most natural thing in the world for Christina and me to be sparring against phantasmic angels. They were the apex predator of demons, after all—the enemy of enemies, ever since Lucifer’s fall from grace.

  Only I’d changed all that.

  The moment I set foot into the strange realm known as the Fae, with the Headmistress of the Celestial Academy and Lucifer’s ex-wife by my side, I’d changed the rules of the game as we knew them.

  Both the Celestial and the Infernal Realm had entered a whole new ball game, and no one knew where things might end up.

  Least of all me.

  I even had an angel in my harem—Maddie, a young woman who’d been a waitress back on Earth. She couldn’t have known what she’d signed up for when she snuck into the trunk of my souped-up Satanic hot rod for a ride into Hell, but she’d come out of it with a pair of wings and a spot by my side.

  The angel charging at me at that moment looked a bit like Maddie, in fact, if someone had
drawn a rude caricature of her and gotten it pissed off at someone’s manager. I tried not to think about the resemblance as I summoned a bolt of pure Demonic energy, slicing the illusion in half like a pizza cutter through a brand-new pie. Both halves of the not-Maddie fell apart and dissolved, but it still wasn’t enough for Shibboleth.

  “Alright you two, warmups are over! This is the real battle! I want both of you focusing your demonic energies like you mean it this time! Christina, I want to see tons of your claw shards! Luke, I’d better see those damn tentacles the ladies in the dorms can’t shut up about!”

  That last part provoked a drizzle of wicked laughter from a few of the demon girls in attendance.

  To my surprise, I realized Shibboleth was right—Christina and I had been holding back, too distracted by current events to really let loose and set our demonic juices flowing.

  Almost as much as I wanted to be inside her as soon as possible, I needed to beat the shit out of something.

  “What do you say, Christina?” I asked, extending my wings to their full length. With the thick, leathery protuberances sticking from my shoulder blades, I truly looked like an Archlord of Hell. “Want to show these demons how it’s done?”

  I knew the inside of Christina’s skull showed the same scene as mine. Us running across a field of elf corpses, trying to make it to Lilith’s portal before it closed and stranded us inside of the Fae.

  That strange, fairy-tale realm still made very little sense to me—but both Judyth Dominia, the Headmistress of the Celestial Academy, and Lilith, the Dean of the Infernal Academy, seemed to consider the realm of paramount importance. Every member of my harem who’d been there had been thinking about it in the weeks since we’d left—we all knew it was only a matter of time before Heaven or Hell sent us back there again.

  I watched Christina shrug off her worries, stepping back into the present moment.

  A grin stretched across her model-perfect face, and suddenly she was the smoking hot demon girl every demonic guy dreamed of having on their arm.

  Mine, though, I thought possessively. All mine.

  “Fuck yes,” Christina growled, extending her claws. “Let’s wipe that smug look off Shibboleth's face!”

  The remaining angels had organized themselves into a rough ‘V’ formation, like a flock of pissed off Canada geese. Most of them carried the golden bows their squadron had been using to harry us with arrows, but a few looked to have switched to the long spears I’d seen on the angelic guards of the Pearly Gates.

  “Seraphim weapons,” I growled, pleased that I’d remembered.

  Christina nodded, slotting herself into her role as my subordinate like it was second nature.

  “I’ll handle the ranged targets,” she said with a fierce grin. “You get right up on those Seraphim and smash some faces!”

  Just what the doctor ordered, I thought, spreading my wings in a dive.

  Far below us, the crowd ooohed and aahhed at the sight of Lucifer’s chosen, my wings silhouetted against an ocean of flames.

  Power flared around me as I reached inside and embraced the Angel of Darkness, activating the abilities I’d been honing since the day I met Lucifer.

  The front line of spear-wielding angels paused, seeing I carried no weapon. They didn’t yet realize I was the weapon.

  As I reached the first Seraphim, thick tendrils of darkness erupted from between my shoulder blades. More appreciative cries broke from my crowd of admirers—with more than a few hoots and propositions from the demon girls watching.

  Rumors of these tendrils and their powers had spread across campus like wildfire since I used them to defeat my rival Karl, and I had it on good authority from Xora—the queen of gossip—that a non-negligible percentage of the Infernal Academy’s co-eds went to bed at night fantasizing about what those long, dexterous appendages could do to their pussies.

  Right now, however, I favored violence over sex.

  The projections weren’t real angels—merely fancy illusions crafted by a demonic wizard who worked for Shibboleth.

  So when I grabbed the nearest angel in two of my tendrils, ripped the spear from its hands, and began to pull, the thing tore in two like a paper-mache dummy. The angels behind it hardly even noticed their comrade’s destruction—they were programmed to attack, to fight the students of the Wrath school until they landed a hit or were destroyed.

  An angel dropped in from above me, aiming its spear in a two-handed grip. With my demonic senses altering my vision, the creature appeared to be moving in slow motion. I dealt it an uppercut on the chin, rattling its skull with a blow that would have caused a mortal demon to bite off its own tongue. It just barely knocked the angel off course, causing its spear swing to go wide.

  “No fair!” I protested, grabbing two more angels with my tendrils and holding them back like a tall bully with his hand on a short kid’s face. “These things don’t even act realistically when you hit them!”

  “It’s called tunnel vision, Bell!” Shibboleth countered. “In the thick of battle, men can take lethal wounds without even realizing it!”

  I wish you’d take a lethal wound, I thought, slamming the two angels together.

  They exploded like confetti, raining down bits of glittery feathers on the adoring crowd.

  Honestly, I didn’t hate Shibboleth or anything like that—probably because, unlike Christina, I didn’t major in Wrath and didn’t have to see him every day.

  It just felt like ever since the Fae, all of this was set dressing. Like I’d been given a peek at the real conflict, then told to go back to school and concentrate on my lessons. Fighting was fun, and infernal parties were even better—but I’d begun to realize something about myself.

  I was the heir of Lucifer.

  Which meant I wasn’t comfortable sitting around resting on my laurels. As much as I loved drinking, partying, and having orgies in my subspace, I wanted something more.

  I longed for purpose.

  I wanted to prove that I had what it takes to be Lucifer’s successor—to be the Archlord of Hell.

  Beating up fake angels just didn’t have the same thrill.

  “Luke,” Christina howled, “duck!”

  I knew this routine.

  I dropped a few feet as a cloud of shimmering daggers flew over my head, spraying into what remained of the frontline of angels.

  Winged foes clutched pierced throats, dug helplessly at splinters embedded in their stomachs, tried helplessly to fix broken wings as they tumbled from the sky.

  The nails were Christina’s battle specialty, and in a few short weeks, she’d gone from being able to toss them like throwing knives to being able to summon a sharp black cloud of death on command.

  Her growth pleased me—yet frustrated me at the same time.

  Surely we could be doing more than this?

  Before long, there were no angels left to fight.

  Try as I might, I never managed to feel the pure bloodlust that overwhelmed me that day on the battlefield versus the Fae.

  I’d truly lost myself then—the switches in my head for fuck and kill had become crossed, so that every slaughtered foe sent pulses of pleasure through my body and victory had felt like plunging into the tightest, wettest pussy in the universe.

  I’d become the capital-B Beast then—and as much as that scared me, part of me longed to do it again.

  A big part of me.

  Christina and I landed back on the black rock platform, bowing and preening like the superstars we were.

  The cheers died off quickly beneath Shibboleth’s glare, turning into polite applause before dissolving completely.

  “Good enough,” the instructor growled. From him, it was high praise. “Alright, next duo. Let’s see how Brian and Aztomund handle the same phalanx.”

  “Nice job, Luke!” Aztomund was a giant demon that looked like a cross between an armadillo and a beetle. Just looking at him would’ve left the old Luke Bell unable to speak for a week. “You really do
look like him when you’re up there, you know that? You kill the way he does—well, the way I’ve read about him killing, in any case.”

  “Him?” I asked, still coming down from the thrill of combat.

  Christina grinned and put a hand on my shoulder.

  “Lucifer, sweetheart,” the blonde purred, nibbling my earlobe. “Azzie’s saying you remind him of Our Lord.”

  I caressed Christina’s body with my eyes, paying special attention to her breasts in their tight, corset-like top.

  Battle always turned Christina on, leaving her nipples hard and stiff beneath the fabric—and when they stood out like that, it was plain as day that she was pierced. The Prince of Darkness had told me about that little ‘sacrifice’, back when I’d taken Christina to be mine in the first place.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked, my hand sliding down to her luscious ass. “Do I make you think of getting something else pierced, baby?”

  “More like you piercing me,” Christina giggled, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Fuck, it’s hotter than Hades in here today. And I should know. Shit, we missed a message…”

  As Aztomund and Bryan prepared to take flight against a flock of angels, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone.

  In contrast to just about everything else in the Infernal Realm, the cell phone was as ordinary as it could be—save for the fact that it didn’t connect to cell networks anywhere on Earth. All of my harem girls and friends had one, and they allowed us to keep tabs on each other no matter where we were. When your girlfriends all majored in different subjects and one of them went to a college for angels instead of demons, a group chat was an absolute necessity.

  I opened up our group chat and instantly got a faceful of pussy.

  The latest message was a selfie from Mareth, the succubus who wore a naughty schoolgirl’s uniform everywhere she went.

  She had that uniform on in this picture, too—only the skirt was hiked up over her waist, with her legs spread to show off her hairless mound and dripping slit.

  The forked end of her tail pressed against her swollen clit, and she’d unbuttoned her top and was in the middle of squeezing one generous breast as the picture was taken.