(JASPER'S POV)
I saw my Gilbert.
He was on his knees at the foot of the Demon King's throne, at the bottom of the black stone dais, and he was naked. His beautiful, delicate body on display for every drunk beast in that room to look at. A leather-and-iron collar was locked around his throat, its heavy chain running straight into the king's own hand.
My father, King Moreau Belial himself sat above him, sprawled across his throne with the arrogance of a creature who had never imagined a world he couldn't conquer. Two massive horns curved from his head. His eyes burned blood-red beneath a heavy brow, and when he lifted his goblet to drink, his large fangs flashed in the firelight. One enormous fist was tangled in Gilbert's black hair, holding his head back as though he were nothing more than a pet the king had decided to keep.
And the room—
Gods.
