Chapter 4: His Rules, Her Rebellion

The palace wasn’t built with bricks. It was built with fear.

Every hallway whispered forgotten names. Every flicker of light cast twisted shadows. And yet… she walked like she owned it. Barefoot, wild-haired, fire in her eyes.

Azrael watched her from his throne of thorns and obsidian, chin resting lazily on his hand. “You’re amusing,” he said coldly, voice curling like smoke. “For a mortal who should be screaming.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, your dramatic lair doesn’t exactly terrify me.”

A flicker of darkness danced behind him. “Still trying to joke your way out of damnation?”

“Still waiting for you to prove you’re more than just a moody fire-show.”

He stood. The torches along the walls dimmed. The air thinned. Her breath hitched, but she refused to back down.

“You forget,” he growled, each word dipped in venom, “You belong to me now.”

“I didn’t ask to be claimed.”

“You freed me.”

“By accident!”

“That,” he stepped closer, “is not my concern.”

She crossed her arms. “Well then maybe I should’ve just left you to rot in that dusty tomb.”

Lightning cracked outside the stained glass windows. The castle trembled, reacting to his wrath. But Azrael didn’t lash out. No fire. No chains. No pain.

Instead, he turned and walked away.

“Follow.”

She hesitated — not from fear, but because she hated being told what to do. Still, curiosity won. She followed him through the palace’s twisted corridors, past portraits that blinked and doors that whispered curses.

They arrived at a cliffside behind the palace, where the wind howled like broken souls and the stars looked distant and cruel.

“Jump,” he said.

“What?”

“You’re not afraid, right?” His smirk curled. “Then prove it. Jump. Trust that I’ll catch you. Or don’t. Either way, I’ll learn what kind of creature I’ve caught.”

She stared at the swirling abyss below. A void darker than anything she’d seen. One wrong move and she’d vanish.

“You think I’m stupid?” she asked.

“I think you’re bold,” he said. “Bold things break faster.”

Her chest rose with sharp breaths. She looked at him—cold eyes, impossible beauty, cruel smile—and then she stepped forward.

And jumped.

The fall was instant. Wind screamed past her ears. Her mind went blank. Death felt close, like a whisper—

And then… nothing.

She wasn’t falling.

She was wrapped in arms like iron, eyes inches from his.

He caught her.

“You… you really—”

“Fool,” he interrupted. “I didn’t say I’d want to catch you.”