Madison shoved her bouquet into Astaroth's hand, looking absolutely disgusted.
"Asti, I need higher-quality sacrifices, like, right now. These basic-witch strands aren't cutting it. I need the hair of the OG traitors—the ones who sold out their entire clans for a fling, or at least cheated on their husbands for 50 years without getting caught. I need that 'ancient' betrayal energy!"
A wicked smirk played on Astaroth's lips.
"Then it's time to descend to the 'Circle of Ancient Infidelity.' The deepest pit. That's where the women who orchestrated history's greatest scandals reside—their hair turned jet black from the sheer weight of their lack of remorse. Their strands will give you that 'suffering' scream you're dying for."
Madison hooked her arm into Astaroth's, adjusted her bone corset, and winked.
"Let's go then, my King! I'm going to pluck those strands myself. I refuse to have 'basic' whispers at my wedding. The vibes must be immaculate!"
