Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 668: Desperate Prayer

Cassius and Carmela were frozen, caught in a blend of guilt and dread.

There were no excuses that could possibly bridge the chasm of what had just happened.

And seeing Joy like this—her eyes bloodshot, her body radiating a holy fury so intense it seemed to warp the air—they knew they had crossed a line from which there might be no return.

This wasn’t irritation or disapproval; this was a foundational violation.

Even in their compromised states—their survival instincts screamed.

Carmela’s hands came up, not in a seductive gesture but in a guarded stance, her vampire reflexes ready.

Cassius eased back onto the balls of his feet, his playful demeanor gone, replaced by the focused readiness of a seasoned fighter.

They braced for the violent explosion they were certain would follow.

But it didn’t come.

Joy simply...stared. Her vengeful glare bored into them, a silent promise of pain held in check by sheer, monumental willpower.

The seconds stretched, thick with tension.

Then, she closed her eyes. A deep, shuddering breath filled her lungs.

She held it, and let it out in a long, controlled stream.

Another followed.

In. Out. With each cycle, the crackling golden aura around her dimmed.

The phantom weight of her manifested weapons dissolved.

The murderous pressure in the room began to recede, not because the offense was forgiven, but because it was being forcibly contained.

When her eyes opened again, the inferno had been banked. What remained was not hatred, but a profound, weary, and utterly annoyed exasperation.

She looked at them now not as a warrior facing defilers, but like a long-suffering mother who had just walked in on her teenage daughter and her delinquent boyfriend in a compromising, messy situation.

Seeing this, both Cassius and Carmela felt a wave of dizzying relief wash over them.

This simmering annoyance was a paradise compared to the divine wrath of moments before.

But before either could stammer an apology or an explanation, Joy spoke, her voice clipped and strained as she straightened her spine with military precision. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"I am going to speak with the Goddess now."

Her gaze swept over the scene—the rumpled, soaked sheets, Carmela’s flushed, trembling form, the general atmosphere of raw carnality.

She shook her head, a gesture of utter defeat.

"I am currently experiencing a mental and spiritual crisis. If this continues for one more minute, I will have no choice but to disrobe from my sacred calling and admit myself to a mental asylum for the sake of my own sanity."

"Therefore, to preserve what remains of my mind, I will seek a long and deep audience with Her Holiness. I pray She has the answers I clearly lack."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned her back on them, knelt on the floor—deliberately away from the bed and assumed a formal prayer posture.

She clasped her hands before her, bowed her head, and closed her eyes. A soft, serene golden light, gentle and focused unlike the pink aura from before, enveloped her.

Her lips then began to move in silent, fervent prayer, the ancient inscriptions of the Goddess flowing from her with a desperate sincerity.

She was a portrait of a penitent seeking absolution, or a soldier begging for orders in a war that no longer made sense.

The sudden, profound shift left Cassius and Carmella staring, first at her kneeling form—then at each other in shared astonishment.

And in that moment of shared, adrenaline-drenched relief—something else ignited.

Perhaps it was the sudden drop from mortal terror back to the simmering hormonal soup they’d been stewing in.

Perhaps it was the primal recognition of having survived a shared threat.

Or perhaps the dam holding back every suppressed urge simply shattered under the cumulative pressure of fear, lust, and overwhelming emotional whiplash.

Whatever the cause, the spark became a wildfire in an instant.

Their eyes met, and the hunger that flashed between them was feral, all-consuming.

No words were needed. With a mutual, gasping intake of breath, they lunged for each other.

Cassius’s arms locked around Carmela’s body with a possessive ferocity, hauling her against him.

She met him with equal force, her nails digging into the hard muscle of his back, scoring red lines into his skin.

Their mouths crashed together in a kiss that was less an expression of affection and more a battle for dominance, a devouring.

"Mmm!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Slurp!♡~"

Cassius’s tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her.

Carmela fought back with her own, a tangling, wet struggle for control.

One of his hands slid down from her back, over the curve of her ass, and without hesitation, a finger pressed against her other, tighter entrance, sinking in just past the knuckle as he continued to kiss her breathless.

"Kiss!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Mwah!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Nibble!♡~"

Carmela moaned into his mouth, the sensation shocking and intense, but she didn’t pull away.

She was too far gone, lost in the storm of sensation.

And in her fervor, as she sucked on his lower lip, her extended fangs—grazed the flesh too hard.

A sharp sting, and the coppery tang of blood filled both their mouths.

She recoiled instantly, pulling back with a gasp, her eyes wide with panic and apology.

"Sorry! Cassius, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

But he just placed a gentle finger against her swollen lips, silencing her.

A bead of blood welled on his cut lip but he just smiled, a real, tender smile that reached his eyes.

"It’s all right, Carmela. Completely all right."

His thumb brushed her cheek.

"First time kissing a man?"

She gave a small, shy, embarrassed nod.

"Then mistakes are more than allowed."

He murmured, his voice a low rasp.

"Especially with a woman of such...formidable passion. Don’t apologize for it. Just let me show you how to properly kiss."

Slowly, giving her time to refuse, he drew her back in.

This time, the kiss was different.

The animalistic frenzy melted away, replaced by a deep, exploring passion.

"Smooch!♡~ Smooch!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Smooch!♡~ Sip!♡~"

It was slower, sweeter, infinitely more intimate.

Cassius guided her, his lips moving with expert tenderness, teaching her the rhythm of a lover’s kiss, not a predator’s bite.

"Mwah!♡~ Mwah!♡~ Pucker!♡~ Mwah!♡~ Suck!♡~"

Carmela melted into it, a soft sigh escaping her.

Her hands came up to cradle his face, her touch reverent and she sank into the kiss, learning its language, her fingers gently tracing the shell of his ear.

Cassius then eased her back down onto the bed, his weight settling over her carefully, one hand coming up to cup her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple with a feather-light touch as their mouths remained fused.

They weren’t fucking anymore.

They were making love.

Soft. Desperate. Necessary.

Like two people who had just survived something awful and now needed to prove—to themselves, to each other—that they were still alive.

Meanwhile, across the room, Joy knelt in her perfect prayer posture—eyes closed, lips moving silently, holy light glowing gently around her.

She didn’t hear them.

Didn’t see them.

She had shut out everything—the moans, the wet sounds, the creak of the bed, the desperate gasps—blocked it all behind an iron wall of faith.

Right now, the only thing that existed was the Goddess.

And the desperate, trembling hope that somewhere in the silence she would answer.

Because Joy had finally reached the end of what she could endure alone.

And she needed help.

But even though Joy recited every scripture she had ever memorized, whispered every prayer she knew by heart, and poured every ounce of her will into feeling the Goddess’s presence, nothing happened.

No warmth. No light. No gentle touch against her soul.

She had always understood this.

The Goddess was no indulgent mother hovering over every child’s shoulder.

She governed universes, balanced worlds, wove fate across realities too vast for any mortal mind to grasp.

A single daughter’s desperate plea—even one as faithful as Joy—could not command Her immediate attention.

Joy had accepted this truth long ago.

But acceptance crumbled under desperation.

Right now she wasn’t the stoic paladin, the unyielding enforcer of divine will.

She was a daughter on her knees, clutching her hands so tightly her knuckles blanched, praying not out of duty but out of sheer survival.

"Please..."

The word slipped out between clenched teeth, barely audible.

"Please, Mother Above...I’ve never asked you for anything. Not once. But I’m begging you now. I need answers. I need to understand."

"Please—please show yourself to me."

She wasn’t the stoic warrior-priestess anymore; she was a frightened child calling for her mother in the dark, her voice thick with a desperation she had never before allowed herself to feel.

And it seemed that depth of vulnerability—finally pierced the celestial veil.

Somewhere in the infinite strata of divine attention, a consciousness turned.

It was a gentle shift, like a star altering its course by a fraction of a degree, but its focus settled on a single, trembling point of light in a mortal realm.

To see a daughter of such iron resolve, a blade tempered in holy fire, brought to such a state of pitiful, human despair...it stirred something even within an eternal heart.

Joy felt it.

A change, deep in her core. It wasn’t a sound or a light, but a fundamental reorientation, as if the axis of her being had been gently realigned.

The floor beneath her knees, the distant, wet sounds from the bed, the very air of the room—it all dissolved into a profound, silent pull.

She opened her eyes.

She was no longer in the mansion. Not in her borrowed room. Not on her world at all.

She stood in an abyss.

A perfect, seamless, pitch-black void stretched in every direction, without horizon, without feature, without end.

There was no ground beneath her feet, yet she stood firm.

There was no light source, yet she could see herself clearly.

She was clad not in her ruined sleep clothes, but in her formal church robes.

Confusion, vast and disorienting, washed over her.

Had she died?

Was this some form of divine punishment?

A test?

But just then—a voice came.

It didn’t come from any direction, because in this place, there were no directions. It simply was, woven into the fabric of the void itself.

It was a voice of impossible gentleness and profound beauty, a sound that held the warmth of a billion suns and the quiet of the space between stars.

It was a voice that spoke not to her ears, but directly to her soul.

"Joy."

A single syllable, and it contained lifetimes of knowing, of watching, of loving.

"My daughter. I finally get to see you in the flesh."