The golden chain binding Lucien to Caelum still pulsed against his skin like fire, its glow seared into his collarbone. The court had begun to disperse, but whispers clung to the air like smoke.
Lucien sat rigid on the throne beside his father’s, chained by light to the Angel Prince standing at his side. His jaw was set, eyes burning. He hated the chain. He hated the bond. He hated Caelum most of all.
And yet… his power was quiet for the first time in years. The chaotic storm inside him slept whenever Caelum stood too close. That truth gnawed at him more than the chain itself.
“Get used to it,” Caelum murmured, his golden hand brushing the chain as though testing its strength. “Every breath you take is mine now.”
Lucien jerked away with a snarl. “I’ll cut your throat before I ever accept you.”
But before Caelum could answer, the torches in the chamber flickered, one by one. The shadows thickened. A sudden hiss cut through the silence.
“Now.”
Blades of black steel slashed through the dark. The high demons, cloaked in blood runes, surged forward. One lunged straight for Lucien’s chest.
Lucien’s eyes widened, too slow to react—until Caelum’s hand yanked him back against his chest. A golden shield burst outward, shattering the assassin’s blade to dust.
The attackers didn’t hesitate. They circled, chanting ancient curses. One roared, “The half-blood will not sit on this throne! Neither Heaven nor Hell will rule us!”
Lucien snarled, wings unfurling, his unstable powers flaring again. Fire and light shot wildly, burning the walls. His control snapped. His chest heaved, pain ripping through him.
Caelum’s arms closed around him like iron chains. “Focus!” he commanded, his voice sharp, merciless. “I said you only break for me—not for them.”
Golden wings tore open behind Caelum, filling the chamber with blinding radiance. He swept his hand across the hall, and the assassins screamed as searing chains of light wrapped around their throats, dragging them to their knees.
Lucien’s trembling slowed, his chaos quieting again under Caelum’s touch. His pride stung worse than the pain in his veins. He growled, “Let me go, damn you! I don’t need your help—”
Caelum’s hand gripped his jaw, forcing Lucien to meet his eyes. His voice dropped low, intimate, and terrifying.
“You always need me. And I’ll prove it tonight.”
The assassins choked, the golden chains crushing their necks until their bodies turned to ash. The court trembled in silence, too afraid to breathe.
Caelum dragged Lucien closer, his mouth brushing against his ear.
“The ritual is done. The enemies are dead. Now, husband…” He smirked, voice dripping with possession.
“…we seal this bond the way it was meant to be sealed.”
Lucien’s pulse hammered as the chain at his throat burned hotter, pulling him toward Caelum.
The Angel Prince leaned down, his whisper sharp and final:
“Tonight, you stop running.”
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