"The demon lay caged within his mind. With a thunderous roar he broke his bonds of servitude and laid waste to the Demon Lords. Nothing could stop him from vanquishing his enemies..." - Witness to the rise of the Demon King, Sebastian the Vanquisher.

Northern Romania, 1327 A.D.

"Master, open the door!"

With a grunt Sebastian rolled over, pressing against the naked female body that lay beside him. The woman sighed, slipping her pale hand up his neck to twirl around one of his horns. Smirking, he slapped her round backside and bit back a groan.

He couldn't remember the witch's name, nor did he care. But he did remember she was particularly gifted with her tongue...

"Master, please!"

Sitting up he pushed his long black hair from his face and squinted at the clock. "What the hell..." he groaned, his head throbbing.

Why in the gods would his servant wake him at this hour? Jasper knew full well he'd been up for nearly a week. After a hard won victory on the battlefield he'd been more than happy to celebrate with his men, indulging in drink and the delights of the flesh until exhaustion claimed him.

"My lord!"

Rubbing a hand over his face he snapped loudly, "The bloody castle better be on fucking fire, Jasper!"

"Master, she's coming. You must run!"

His heart went cold. She comes for me? Hastily he scrambled out of bed, roughly shoving the whore out of his way. She gave a loud squeal in protest, "My lord!"

Ignoring her Sebastian shoved his legs into his britches. With a growl he flung open the door. Jasper stood on the other side, a double edged sword in each hand. "Master, she is at the gates."

Son of a bitch!

"The wards?" The castle was protected by powerful wards. The magical barriers hid the stronghold from humans and prevented his enemies from entering.

Jasper shook his head, his face grim. "She's broken them."

"Damn it. The guards?"

"They can't stop her." The spectral demon's face flickered from solid to a ghostly translucent white. "Bane went out to meet her and didn't return."

Sebastian scowled, ignoring the stab of worry for his first in command. Bane was a skilled warrior, if the powerful demon could not stop her... "And Nicholas, where is he?"

"He has not returned."

Shit! Pursing his lips Sebastian tried to focus himself. "Get the servants out of here. I will face her." He'd brought this hell down upon them, and now he would have to meet his fate.

"Master," Jasper protested. Sebastian knew his servant would want to fight by his side, but he also knew it was going to be a losing battle.

"Do it," he ordered, his tone broaching no argument. Nodding Jasper turned completely incorporeal, disappearing through the floor.

Grabbing his sword he caught his reflection in a mirror. Straight black locks fell over his eyes, the golden orbs dull and battle worn. On his left arm he bore the insignia of his clan, a black dragon, the symbol of power and strength. His strong jaw was firm, his scarred body tense with the knowledge of what hell awaited him. He was a warrior, menacing and feared, and yet he was no match for the enemy at his gates.

He could very well die this night.

Cursing his foolishness Sebastian ran down the castle halls, jumping clean over staircases to reach the main floor. The castle seemed to vibrate with power. The windows cracked, the stone pillars groaning. She's going to bring the damn castle down.

This was his fault. He'd done this.

The urge to turn demonic seized him. Gritting his teeth he fought down the instinct, his body shaking with the effort. His muscles bulged and his fangs elongated, aching to tear and bite through his enemy. He slammed his fist into a pillar, the stone crumbling under the force. He could not afford to turn demonic now. Even if doing so would increase his strength, it would also seal his fate.

Berserkers were the strongest among the demon clans, known for their brutality and aggression. When fully demonic their strength increased tenfold, their demonic form perfectly evolved to strike fear. He despised it, a growling and vicious monster.

A single berserker could lay waste to entire legions. But their strength came with a price, once turned they lost almost all reason. Ruled by their inner demon they were no better than savage animals, seeking the next kill.

Realizing this, the other demon clans had easily manipulated his kind, forcing berserkers to turn and training them like dogs. Along with his brethren Sebastian was born into a life of servitude and torture. He fought in war after war for his master, the fiery demon lord, Ivan the Defiler.

Until he learned to cage his inner demon.

After centuries of conditioning and pain he'd taught himself to control the vicious monster within himself, using his newfound knowledge to teach his fellow brethren. With focused logic instead of blind rage his berserkers decimated their enemies. He led his demon army into battle after battle, conquering the other clans and earning him the title of Sebastian the Vanquisher, Demon King.

But Sebastian never forgot how he'd suffered at the hands of the demon lord Ivan. Once his kingdom had been secure his army marched on Ivan's stronghold. Located in the far north of the demon realm the battle had been brutal. Bitter cold and harsh weather weakened his soldiers, while Ivan's legion of fiery demons wreaked havoc on his army.

Then came the vampires.

There'd been rumors Lord Ivan had aligned with a house of Forsaken, red eyed vampires near mad with bloodlust. Sebastian would never have believed such travesty if he had not seen it with his own eyes. The filthy leeches had slaughtered many of his soldiers, feeding off them as they went.

With his army being laid to waste Sebastian took desperate measures to ensure victory, seducing an extremely powerful mystic. Levina the Ever Watchful was well known for her schemes and vengeful nature, a wiser demon would have kept his distance. Ignoring caution he turned Levina to his cause with sweet words and empty promises, deceiving the sorceress without a single ounce of remorse. Then he watched with satisfaction as Levina destroyed his enemies. Once Lord Ivan had fled and his stronghold had fallen Sebastian abandoned the sorceress. What was one more female in a long line of conquests?

And now she comes for me.

As he reached the bottom steps to the main hall the heavy castle doors flew open. Shards of wood skittered across the stone floor as lightning struck viciously outside.

Sebastian sucked in a breath, his hand tightening on his sword. The vision before him was one he would never forget. Levina floated in the entrance, long golden locks whipping about her face. Her eyes, once bright silver, were completely black and full of hatred. As she glided across the threshold her white dress billowed about her legs.

She was both terrifying and beautiful to behold.

Taking a step towards her cautiously he demanded, "What do you want, sorceress?"

She cocked her head and smirked. "You don't seem pleased to see me, Demon King." She spoke in his native tongue, her disembodied voice sending shivers down his spine.

His eyes flickered over her floating form, assessing her. He could feel the power flowing from her body. The air sizzled with it. "You have attacked my home."

"Oh, I plan to do far worse." Levina smiled sadistically. "What did you expect when you used me so callously?"

Raking his brain he thought fast. "It was not my intention to hurt you-"

"Lies!" she screeched. The very castle shook as she clenched her fists. "You use women for your own gain, as objects for your pleasure. How many hearts have you broken? How many tears have been shed by your empty promises, Sebastian the Vanquisher!"

He tensed, his hackles rising. Thunder crashed.

Too late.

Lightning streaked through the hall, directly for him. He roared as he was hit in the chest with a crushing force. It sent him flying backwards, crashing on the stairs. The stone shattered under his hard body. Clenching his teeth he struggled upward, wrapping an arm around his broken ribs. The urge to turn demonic seized him once more. No. Stay in control.

The mystic let out a vicious laugh. "You fight so hard not to turn. You despise that part of you, do you not? A demon who denies his own self, how pathetic," she leered. "So unlike the demon that sought to stop me at the gates, he turned without a second thought."

No, Bane! Sebastian couldn't stand the thought of losing his second in command. Not after what they had suffered as slaves. Not after all they'd fought for. "What have you done to him?" he demanded.

Levina cocked her head, gliding closer. "He lives in body. The rest however..." she trailed off with another cruel laugh. With a flick of her wrist he was struck again, the bolt of energy sending him skidding across the floor.

"Stop this," he managed to gasp, struggling to stand.

"Oh, but I've just begun," she sneered, her disembodied voice cold as steel. "I curse you, demon."

He stiffened, his eyes going wide.

She laughed again, the sound echoing through the castle halls. "I curse you into what you hate the most."

No...NO!

His body stiffened as rage and instincts rushed to the surface. The demon within roared, clawing at the cage Sebastian had spent centuries to build.

He began to turn.

His claws elongated, black and razor sharp, as his fangs shot long in his mouth. His body grew in size, his muscles expanding. His skin pricked as if stabbed with tiny blades, changing to a dark shade of blue. Power surged through him, hot and intense.

Desperately he fought against it, the tendons in his neck and arms bulging. "You cannot do this!" he bellowed, clawing at his chest. Don't turn. Fight it!

"It is done," she dismissed. "But do not fear there is a way to break from this curse."

He barely heard her, his blood pounding in his ears. Clutching at his head he snarled, "Tell me!"

"Love," she sneered. "You must learn to love and be loved in return."

His breathing harsh he fought to understand. "I must find a mate?" he asked, incredulous. Demons mated for life, the bond was eternal. Because of this a mate was carefully chosen. Sebastian had never desired to find his eternal mate, females were tools for his pleasure, not his equal.

"Not just a mate," the mystic corrected. "She must love you and you her. Poetic is it not?"

Love? He stared down at his hands, his dark claws glinting in the flashes of lightning. He knew how he appeared in this form. Knew the fear it struck in all who saw it. "No one will love me like this," he choked.

"Then this is how you will remain, Cursed One," the sorceress stated with satisfaction.

She's left me with no hope. I will be this way forever.

"I'll destroy you for this! I'll hunt you down, I vow it!" Even as he shouted the words he knew it was hopeless, mystics could not be killed.

The demon within raged inside him, clawing away at his sanity. Instincts and anger seared hot through his body. Kill her, rip her apart.

So much pain. So much rage.

He clutched his fists, releasing a roar of anguish. His brutal claws ripped into the walls and floor, the stone turning to dust. Levina's cruel laugh echoed in his ears.

He was lost.

With one last bellow he let the demon within rage free.