No. I could not allow myself to think these thoughts. They were not conducive to my mental health. Or to keeping my cock flaccid.

“You missed the meeting tonight!”

I groaned. If there was anything in this realm that could kill a growing erection, it was Hellen’s shrill voice.

“I was not … feeling myself,” I muttered.

“You don’t get to not feel like yourself! You’re the Crown Prince of Hell! And you still have not declared who you will escort to the ball!”

I peered through the rising steam, finding Hellen glowering down at me, brandishing a roll of parchment.

“What in the Home is that?”

“This is a list of every upper demoness attending. Someone had to do the research since you seem incapable of … will you get out of that hot spring! Stop lolling about like a wastrel and take your responsibilities seriously!”

I surged from the water, shaking myself all over her and her confounded list. I hoped that all the splashing ruined it. I had less than zero interest in the slew of demoness tartlets she’d lined up or what they wanted from the heir to the throne.

“How many responsibilities do I need to take on before I am essentially ruling in everything but name?” I wondered darkly, stuffing my damp legs into my breeches. “How much do I need to do before I am no longer a ‘wastrel’ in your eyes, sister?”

“Well a jot more than nothing would be a start!”

Fury seared along my veins. “Our father refuses to reap souls any longer. More than that, he refuses to take any responsibility for the decline of Hell under his watch. He sits on his throne having imps and human minions sexually pleasure him, rather than coming up with solutions. He palmed that off to me, and I spent countless hours developing the Soul Token so that we⁠—”

“And you haven’t the stomach to follow through with using it correctly!” she sneered, her hair ruffling as she stirred the winds around her. “If I were in charge, I would⁠—”

“You refuse to enter the human realm! Tell me, Hellen, how do you propose to fill Soul Tokens, if you won’t go near the souls themselves?”

I turned to leave, but her winds whipped to hurricane ferocity, howling and battering my skin. I surged past her, bending into them, pushing against the invisible barrier she had created to stop me from walking away with the last word. She’d been using this tactic since we were tiny.

“Your temper tantrums are getting the better of you. It is probably for the best that you refuse to interact with humans, when you’re utterly incapable of blending in with them.”

Her winds died as quickly as they had begun, leaving behind a deafening silence. She spoke into it. “And you are far too good at playing human. One might start to question your parentage …”