Fallen Angel's Harem in the Abyss

A ripple passed through the vines behind Sylvara as something long and pale slid through them like a ghost in a nightgown.

Another hiss followed, then a third, the sound slithering like mist over water.

"…Oh no," Nyxsha muttered, her ears flattening, her tail stiffening.

From the mist emerged Virelya, her glowing serpent coils slipping lazily across the moss, her veil-draped form half-hidden behind her cracked porcelain mask. She slithered until her body coiled around one of Sylvara's taller trees like a sash of silk, her golden eyes, slit-pupiled and glinting, peering out with smug satisfaction.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" Virelya said in her low, breathy hum, her voice fogging the air like breath on glass. "A love triangle blossoming under my nose?"

Sylvara looked over calmly, her amber eyes unperturbed. "You're early."

"I followed the purring," Virelya said sweetly, her mask tilting. "You always purr louder when you're emotionally compromised."

Nyxsha growled, her massive form tensing. "Get lost, snake-butt."

"Oh please," Virelya replied, placing a hand to her chest in mock offense. "I came to see my prey."

Her coils slithered toward Azareel, who smiled awkwardly as she loomed over him like a cathedral chandelier made of silk and warning signs.

"You missed me, didn't you, Still One?" she whispered, her voice a seductive mist.

"I—um—" Azareel stammered, his silver eyes wide.

"Tell me I haunt your dreams," she whispered, tilting her mask closer, her golden eyes gleaming.

"I… don't usually dream?" he tried, his voice hesitant but sincere.

She leaned closer, her breath like cool mist. "Then I'll visit when you're awake."

Nyxsha shoved her back, her paw slamming into Virelya's coils with a thud, sending a ripple through the serpent's form.

Sylvara, calm as ever, stepped between them, her vines unfurling slightly.

"Perhaps you'd both like to take five steps back before the vines do it for you," she said, her voice a gentle hum laced with steel.

"I'd like to see them try," Nyxsha snarled, her claws unsheathing.

"Oh, we could all try things," Virelya added, her mask cracking with a faint smile.

Azareel raised a hand timidly, his silver eyes darting between them. "Can I umm... vote for breakfast first—?"

All three turned to glare at him, their eyes—golden, amber, and slit-pupiled—boring into him like daggers.

He slowly lowered his hand, his smile fading. "…not hungry anymore."

.

.

.

"Nyxsha."

Sylvara's voice drifted softly, like pollen on a spring breeze, carrying a subtle undercurrent of challenge.

She leaned against a moss-draped arch woven from her own vine-grown garden, her arms crossed beneath the curve of her petal-wrapped breasts, her amber eyes glowing faintly beneath leafy lashes, their pupil-less depths glinting with quiet amusement.

"What exactly," she asked with dangerous calm, her flowering hair swaying gently as if stirred by an invisible wind, "is your relationship with him?"

The garden's humidity clung to the air, thick and heavy with unspoken tensions, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mingling with the Abyss's underlying rot.

Vines rustled faintly, their crimson leaves quivering as if eavesdropping on the conversation.

Virelya lay sprawled across a coil of her own serpentine body, her fangs poking lazily over her bottom lip as she smirked from beneath her cracked porcelain mask, her golden, slit-pupiled eyes gleaming with mischievous delight.

"Yes, Nyx. Do tell," she purred, her voice a breathy hum that fogged the air like mist on glass.

Azareel stood at a safe-ish distance, holding a sprig of red berries that dangled like forbidden jewels, his silver-white hair catching the corpse-light, his torn robe hanging loosely on his slender frame.

He looked like a confused child who'd wandered into three arguing older sisters dressed in danger and allure, his silver eyes, darting between them with innocent bewilderment.

Nyxsha didn't even blink.

She stood straight, her massive arms folded across her chest, her ears twitching with irritation.

"Prey," she said flatly, her golden eyes sharp, her tail flicking like a whip ready to strike.