Chapter 14
POV: Seraphina Vale
A soft knock echoed through the heavy wooden door.
"My lady, the king sent for you. He requests your presence at dinner," the maid called from the corridor, her voice hesitant.
I remained curled on the bed, refusing to move. My eyes felt heavy and swollen from crying through the night. The last thing I wanted was to face anyone—especially that monster.
When the maid received no answer, silence fell for a moment. Then the door burst open with a loud bang.
I startled, sitting up abruptly.
"What are you still doing on the bed?" Lucien growled, his tall frame filling the doorway. "Didn't the maid tell you to come downstairs?"
"I don't want to go downstairs," I snapped, my voice hoarse. "You can't force me."
"Listen to me, freckles," he said, stepping closer, his tone harsh and commanding. "You are my wife now. You will do as I say. This is not your daddy's castle anymore."
Before I could protest, Lucien crossed the room in two strides and yanked me up by the arm. His grip was iron-tight, sending a jolt of fear through me.
"Lucien, let go of my hand!" I cried, struggling uselessly. "Lucien, stop!"
"At least let me bathe first," I pleaded, trying to twist free.
He paused, turning to face me. His dark eyes slowly raked over my disheveled form, darkening with something dangerous.
"You don't need to bathe, freckles. You always smell good to me," he murmured, voice low and rough.
"Please… let me take my bath," I whispered, desperation creeping into my tone.
Lucien's jaw tightened. After a tense pause, he released my arm.
"I give you ten minutes," he warned. "Be fast, or I will barge into the bathroom as well."
He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.
My heart raced wildly, fear gripping my chest like a vice. If I don't obey this monster, he might kill me—or do something far worse.
I rushed into the bathroom, taking the quickest bath of my life. The warm water did little to ease the chill inside me. I slipped into a simple blue gown that clung to my still-damp skin and hurried out of the room, my hands trembling.
The guard stationed at my door led me downstairs in silence. When we reached the dining hall, my stomach twisted. The long table was set with fine plates, gleaming silverware, flickering candles, and a vase of deep black flowers that seemed to swallow the light. The atmosphere felt heavy, oppressive.
Lucien sat at the head of the table. He gestured sharply for me to take the seat beside him. One look at his stern face told me refusal was not an option. I sat down stiffly, staring at the empty plate before me, fingers fidgeting in my lap.
Maids soon entered with trays of food, serving generous portions in strained silence.
My mind kept drifting to my brother. How is Orion? Is he even alive? The thought made my heart ache with a sharp, unrelenting pain.
"Freckles, please eat," Lucien said, his voice quieter than before.
"I'm not hungry," I muttered, pushing the food around with my fork.
"No one goes against my orders."
"You need to listen to me, freckles. You will obey me. I am your husband—not your ex-lover," he added, his tone laced with warning.
My face went pale. Does he know about Riven? The question burned in my mind. If he knows, why hasn't he confronted me yet? What game is he playing?
"Eat. Now," Lucien commanded, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Terrified, I forced myself to eat. Every bite tasted like ash. My powers had been malfunctioning ever since the ball—weak and unreliable. I felt trapped, powerless.
When I finally finished, I rose quickly, intending to escape back to my room. Lucien's voice stopped me cold.
He stared at the necklace still resting against my collarbone.
"Hm. You're still wearing the necklace I gave you," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I like seeing you act like an obedient girl."
How can he act as if he didn't stab my brother right in front of me? How can he be this cruel? The thought twisted like a knife in my chest.
He dropped his fork with a clatter and walked over to me, stopping close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"I really don't want you to hate me, Seraphina," he said, his voice dropping lower. There was a rare hint of regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry for what I did to you earlier… and for what I did to your brother."
Is the devil actually apologizing? The thought left me stunned. I couldn't find words to respond.
"Do you accept my apology?" he pressed, watching me intently.
I swallowed hard. "Can I take a walk outside?" I asked instead, desperate to escape his presence.
He studied me for a moment, then gave a single nod.
I hurried out of the castle, the heavy doors closing behind me with a dull thud. Outside, the air was cool and sharp. Dead, twisted trees lined the kingdom's paths, and massive dragons soared overhead, their wings stretching across the ashen sky with low, guttural screeches. I walked until I reached the riverbank, where dark waves lapped against the shore. In the distance, a sea dragon glided through the water, its scales catching faint moonlight. The sight sent a pang of homesickness through me.
Suddenly, a hand tapped my shoulder from behind. No electric spark raced through my body—this wasn't Lucien. I turned and found Kael standing there.
"Kael!" Relief flooded me. Without thinking, I threw my arms around him in a tight hug.
But the memory of his banishment flashed through my mind—his desperate fall from grace. I pulled away abruptly and turned back toward the river, my shoulders tense.
"What happened, Seraphina? Why the frown?" Kael asked gently.
I stayed silent.
"Are you still angry about what happened?" he continued. "I told you—I had no choice. He threatened to kill me, and I'm just a weak little angel."
I whirled on him. "What do you mean you had no choice? You should have come to me!"
"Sera, it's not that easy. The devil is smart and strategic. You can't outsmart him," Kael said, taking a cautious step closer.
"Stop right there," I warned, voice rising. "And don't you dare call me Sera. It's Queen Seraphina to you."
The word "Queen" slipped out before I could stop it. Kael stared at me in shock.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Kael was right. The devil is too clever.
"Wait… how are you still alive and living freely in this evil realm?" I asked, curiosity cutting through my anger.
Kael exhaled slowly, his expression weary. "After your father banished me, I was falling through the air when the devil caught me. I thought he would kill me… but he didn't. He showed mercy and gave me a chance to redeem myself."
"But I didn't see you at the ball," I said.
"I hid. I was scared to face your father. He might have killed me even there," Kael admitted.
Is the devil actually capable of kindness? The thought unsettled me. He had mercy on Kael… but what is his real motive? After what he did to my brother, how can he pretend to be merciful?
"That is surprising," I said bitterly. "The devil is a pretender after all."
"The king is not a pretender," Kael replied, offering a goofy, lopsided smile. "He's just raw and strict with his personality. And you are his wife now—try to understand him."
"Demons and angels can't be together, Kael. You know that," I said, clinging to a thread of hope. "It's only a matter of time before my family comes for me."
"It has been that way for centuries after the war… but what if the curse can be broken?" Kael suggested carefully. "Lucien has ruled for centuries. Maybe he found a way—by an angel falling in love with a demon."
I scoffed, turning away. "It's forbidden love, Kael. Just shut up. Don't annoy me more."
We stood together in heavy silence near the riverbank, the cool ocean breeze brushing against our skin, carrying the faint salty scent of the dark waters. My thoughts swirled with confusion and longing as I wondered how my life had spiraled so far from everything I once knew.
POV: Lilith Crowe
I sat in my room, quietly reading a poem while a cool breeze drifted through the open window, rustling the pages.
Ever since the incident at Elara's grandmother's death place, there had been no further signs. The uncertainty gnawed at me.
A knock sounded.
"Come in," I called.
"My lady, here is your cup of tea," the maid said, offering the delicate porcelain cup.
The tip of my fingernail accidentally brushed against her hand as I took it. I barely noticed.
"Ouch!" the maid gasped. In surprise, I jolted and spilled the tea across the floor.
"What happened?" I asked, rising from the bed.
"Just a slight injury," she replied, clutching her finger.
I ignored her pain. "Send another maid to clean this mess, you stupid girl," I snapped.
The maid hurried out, and soon another arrived to mop up the spilled tea with trembling hands.
I returned to my poem, but moments later, a piercing scream tore through the castle from the direction of the kitchen.
I ran toward the sound, heart pounding. The scene that greeted me left me frozen in horror.
The maid who had brought my tea lay sprawled on the stone floor. Her body was ashen, skin cracked and blackened like burnt parchment.
"What happened?" I shouted. "What happened to her?"
Guards rushed in, their armor clanking.
"We don't know, my lady," the head maid cried, tears streaming down her face. "She was complaining about a cut on her hand. We treated it, but then she suddenly collapsed—and her body… turned like this."
One guard knelt beside the body, checking her pulse and neck. "She is dead."
Wails rose from the other maids. I stood speechless as the guards carried the lifeless form away.
I fled back to my room, bolting the door behind me with shaking fingers. My mind raced, replaying the moment in my chambers. My fingernail barely brushed her… What kind of demon have I unleashed?
With trembling hands, I opened my drawer, pulled out a pair of black gloves, and slipped them on, covering every inch of skin.
That night, Lilith made her way to the castle to see Lucien. She stood before the towering black gates, the wind whispering through the darkness.
"My lady, please come in," the guard said respectfully, opening the gates wide.
They treated her with high regard—everyone knew Lucien had once killed a guard for her sake.
Lilith walked through the grand halls when she suddenly bumped into someone.
"Are you blind? Can't you see where you're going?" Lilith hissed, venom dripping from every word.
She looked up and froze. It was Seraphina—the same angelic face that had haunted her since the ball, the one who now wears Lucien's mark, his necklace, his claim.
"I'm sorry. You'd better watch where you're going, too," Seraphina replied coolly, though her eyes betrayed a storm of exhaustion and defiance.
A bitter wave of jealousy surged through Lilith's chest, hot and suffocating. This fragile little angel had stolen the one thing she had fought for years to keep—Lucien's attention, his protection, his bed. The sight of her standing here, in their palace, made Lilith's blood boil with possessive rage.
"Oh, well… we have a little light whore in the palace now," Lilith sneered, her voice sharp and trembling with barely restrained fury. "Using your cheap magic to trap the king like some pathetic enchantment."
Seraphina's face flushed with anger, her hands clenching at her sides. "Who are you calling a light whore?"
"You, of course," Lilith spat, stepping closer, her gloved finger jabbing accusingly toward Seraphina's chest. Her heart pounded painfully. "Listen to me, light witch—Lucien will never truly be yours. He's mine. He has always been mine. You're nothing but a temporary toy, a pretty bird he'll tire of once the novelty fades."
Seraphina's eyes flashed with raw pain and defiance. The mention of her brother's stabbing still burned fresh in her memory. "Now you're calling me a light witch?" Her voice cracked with fury and hurt. "If Lucien really loved you, why didn't he marry you, bitch? And how could I ever love a man who stabbed my brother right in front of me—while I screamed for him to stop?"
The words hit Lilith like a slap. For a split second, doubt and old insecurity twisted in her gut, but she masked it with a cold, mocking laugh that sounded harsher than she intended. Deep down, the accusation stung—because part of her had always feared Lucien would never fully belong to her.
"Oh, he did stab him?" Lilith purred, though her smile didn't reach her eyes. A dangerous mix of pride and jealousy churned inside her. "My Lucien never ceases to amaze me. Ruthless, powerful… exactly why he's mine."
Seraphina scoffed in disgust, her shoulders trembling with suppressed emotion. The air between them crackled with tension—two women bound to the same dangerous man, both wounded in different ways.
Lilith brushed past her with deliberate arrogance, her gloved hand grazing the wall as she continued down the hallway. But as she turned the corner, her steps faltered. Her chest tightened with a painful blend of triumph, fear, and desperate longing.
There, standing in the shadowed corridor, was Lucien.
But he wasn't alone.
And the sight that greeted her made her blood run cold.