She wasn’t expecting the fall to stop.
Nor was she expecting the devil himself to catch her like she weighed nothing at all.
But what stunned her more than anything else… was that he hadn’t let go. Not immediately.
Azrael’s arms were like iron restraints, holding her with infuriating ease. His crimson eyes bore into her soul, filled with silent fury. His expression—stone-cold. Controlled. But the sharp flare in his eyes betrayed the storm just beneath the surface.
“You really enjoy dancing on the edge of death,” he growled, voice like burning embers.
She scowled, pushing against his chest. “Better than crawling for mercy.”
A flicker of something—amusement?—passed through his face.
Then, without warning, he tossed her across the grand hall like she was nothing more than a disobedient toy.
She hit one of the tall marble pillars with a grunt, the air knocked from her lungs. The entire hall seemed to shake from the force. A magical pulse rippled across the floor, making the torches flicker violently.
> “You think you’re brave,” his voice echoed through the chamber, “but all I see is a reckless girl who doesn’t know the cost of defiance.”
Before she could move, a strange coldness slithered around her ankles. Shadows—alive, sentient—rose and twisted, forming chains that coiled tightly around her wrists and dragged her to her knees. They burned, not with heat, but with humiliation.
Still, she looked up at him and smirked.
“Do your worst. I’m not afraid of a devil too bitter to taste freedom.”
His steps were slow, deliberate. Each footfall felt like thunder, and yet somehow quieter than death. When he stopped in front of her, his expression had darkened beyond anything she had seen before.
“You speak as if you understand what I am,” he hissed, lowering his face to hers. “But you don’t even know the curse you’ve unleashed.”
“I didn’t mean to awaken you!” she spat. “It was a mistake!”
Azrael’s fingers lifted her chin, the sharpness of his claws grazing her skin. Her heart pounded, but she didn’t flinch.
> “Then mistake or not, you belong to me now. You broke the seal. You ruined the balance. And for that—you will pay.”
“I’m not your puppet,” she snapped, venomous.
He smirked cruelly. “You’re right. Puppets don’t talk back.”
The shadows lifted her roughly to her feet. Her legs trembled, but not from fear—she refused to give him that pleasure.
“You will attend the court gathering tomorrow,” he said flatly. “You’ll wear what I give you. Smile when I say. Stand when told. Or next time, I’ll make you crawl.”
“And what if I don’t?”
He leaned close, his lips near her ear.
> “Then I’ll remind you that mercy is a privilege I no longer possess.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
And then—he was gone. A swirl of black smoke and cold air.
She stood alone, the shadows retreating slowly.
Her chest rose and fell with anger, with defiance… but something else lingered too. A strange ache—almost like recognition.
> That devil wasn’t just cruel. He was shattered. And if she ever found those broken pieces…
She might understand why he feared his own freedom more than she feared his chains.
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