I could not breathe properly after that day.
Every answer created ten more questions.
My grandmother made a deal.
My father knew.
Lucifer regrets not killing her.
And somehow I am in the middle of something none of them are fully explaining.
I sat on my bed, staring at my phone.
I had searched my grandmother's name for hours.
Nothing unusual.
Charity events.
Photos of her smiling in front of a bakery in a small French town.
Kind eyes.
Elegant posture.
The image of a perfect old woman.
Liar.
Witch.
Monster.
Or maybe victim.
I did not know anymore.
The ticking was faint tonight.
Almost patient.
Like it was waiting.
"Stop hiding things from me," I whispered into the empty room.
Silence.
I hated that he only appeared when he chose to.
I hated more that I was starting to want him to.
My thoughts were a mess.
Why did he not kill her?
If he went there to end her life, why accept a bargain?
What did she offer beyond my soul?
A soul cannot scare the Devil.
Unless it is not just a soul.
The thought made my stomach twist.
I lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling.
"Fine," I muttered. "Take me to Hell."
Darkness swallowed me almost instantly.
This time there was no gentle transition.
No slow drift.
One second I was in my bed.
The next I was standing at the gates.
They were enormous.
Black iron twisting into shapes that looked alive.
Beyond them stretched a city.
Not chaos.
Not fire everywhere.
A kingdom.
Dark towers. Red skies. Rivers of molten light flowing between structured streets.
And at the center, far in the distance, stood a castle carved from obsidian and flame.
My breath caught.
This was real.
"Welcome properly," his voice echoed behind me.
I turned slowly.
Lucifer stood dressed in black again, but this time something about him felt different.
More distant.
Colder.
"You will stand at my side tonight," he said.
Not teasing.
Not soft.
King.
The gates opened without being touched.
As we walked forward, I noticed figures moving in the distance.
Demons.
Some looked human.
Some did not.
All of them lowered their heads slightly as he passed.
Respect.
Fear.
Loyalty.
"This is your world," I whispered.
"Yes."
"And you rule all of it?"
"Yes."
He did not look at me.
His gaze remained forward.
Controlled.
Why is he acting like this?
"You said I would train," I said.
"You will."
We entered the castle.
The throne room was larger than I remembered.
This time, it was full.
Dark figures lined the sides. Watching.
Assessing me.
I swallowed.
"They know," I murmured.
"They know you are promised."
The word again.
Promised.
Lucifer ascended the steps to his throne.
He sat slowly.
Then looked at me.
"Stand beside me."
I hesitated.
Every eye in the room was on me.
But I walked up the steps.
I stood next to him.
The air felt heavier up there.
Stronger.
One of the demons stepped forward.
Tall. Inhuman eyes. Sharp grin.
He looked at me with open curiosity.
"This is the human?" he asked.
Lucifer's jaw tightened slightly.
"She is not just human."
The demon tilted his head.
"Does she know?"
My pulse spiked.
Know what?
Lucifer's voice turned icy.
"She knows enough."
Enough.
That word again.
The demon smiled wider.
"Does she know what she truly is?"
The room went silent.
My heart slammed violently.
I turned slowly toward Lucifer.
His face was unreadable.
Cold.
Controlled.
"Enough," he said.
The demon stepped back immediately.
I felt it then.
The lie.
The omission.
They are hiding something from me.
The training began.
He made me sit through discussions.
Territories.
Hierarchy.
Punishments.
Laws.
It was structured. Organized. Ruthless.
And I understood more than I should have.
When one demon argued, I felt instinctively how to silence him.
When a dispute arose, I knew which side was lying.
It came naturally.
Lucifer noticed.
I could feel his gaze on me constantly.
Not possessive.
Observing.
Studying.
As if trying to understand something himself.
Hours passed.
Or maybe minutes.
Time felt different here.
Eventually the room emptied.
Only us remained.
I turned to him.
"What am I?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
He did not answer immediately.
That hesitation.
It hurt more than any threat.
"You are mine," he said finally.
"That is not what I asked."
His grey eyes met mine.
Stormy.
Conflicted.
"You are human," he added.
"Stop lying to me."
His jaw tightened.
"You are not ready."
"Not ready for what?"
Silence.
I stepped closer.
"You said she offered my soul. That is not enough to make your demons look at me like that."
His gaze darkened.
"Drop this."
"No."
My voice broke slightly.
"I deserve to know."
His hand moved suddenly, gripping my upper arm.
Not hurting.
But firm.
"You are alive because of that bargain."
"Then tell me what it cost you."
He froze.
For the first time, I saw something crack in his composure.
And then the scene shifted.
Lucifer's POV
She is standing too close.
Too fragile.
Too stubborn.
This is a mistake.
She should have feared me.
She should have wept and obeyed.
Instead she looks at me as if I am the one hiding in shadows.
I do not feel.
I do not hesitate.
Yet when she cries, something inside me twists.
Pathetic.
She is human.
Temporary.
Breakable.
I have destroyed kingdoms.
Why does the thought of breaking her spirit feel unbearable?
Because she does not know.
Because if she knew what she truly is, she would look at me differently.
Not with anger.
Not with defiance.
With hatred.
And I find that I do not want her to hate me.
Ridiculous.
She is a means to an end.
A necessary consequence of a bargain I should have refused.
Yet when she trembled in her father's house, I wanted to erase the pain from her face.
When she whispered that she hated me, it felt wrong.
I do not protect.
I conquer.
So why am I protecting her from the truth?
Back to Aurélie
"Tell me!" I shouted.
The throne room echoed with my voice.
"I am tired of being treated like a child."
His grip loosened.
His thumb brushed my arm unconsciously.
A soft gesture.
Almost apologetic.
"You will hate me," he said quietly.
The confession stunned me.
"I already do," I whispered.
His eyes searched mine.
"No," he said softly. "You do not."
Tears burned my eyes.
"Then give me a reason to."
He stepped back slightly.
Distance.
Control returning.
"Not tonight."
My chest felt like it was splitting open.
"You are cruel," I said.
"Yes."
"Then act like it. Stop pretending you care."
His expression faltered.
Just for a second.
And that was enough.
"You do care," I breathed.
He looked away.
The King of Hell looked away.
I felt tears spill over.
"Why are you protecting her?" I asked brokenly. "Why are you protecting my grandmother?"
His silence was the loudest answer.
I stepped forward again, grabbing his shirt.
I did not care about the consequences.
"Tell me what she gave you!" I cried.
My voice echoed through the empty hall.
"Tell me what I am!"
He closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, the storm inside them was raw.
"You are not just human," he said.
The words shattered something inside me.
"Then what am I?"
Silence.
Heavy.
Intimate.
Painful.
I felt myself collapsing emotionally.
Tears streamed freely now.
"I am tired," I whispered. "I am so tired of this."
My hands tightened in his shirt.
"Please," I said, my voice breaking completely. "Please tell me the truth."
For a moment, he lifted his hand as if to touch my face again.
Then he stopped himself.
And that hurt more than anything.
The King of Hell looked at me like I was something fragile.
And he was afraid of breaking me.
"Lucifer," I sobbed.
Not King.
Not Devil.
Just his name.
"Tell me."
The red sky outside the castle darkened further.
The silence stretched.
And he still did not answer.