The rain started just before midnight.
Celeste stood by the kitchen window, watching droplets race each other down the glass as thunder rumbled distantly. The robe clung to her skin, heavy with humidity. Her tea had gone cold on the counter, untouched since Lucien left. She hadn't moved from her spot. Couldn't. Not after everything he'd said.
Not after the way he looked at her.
Not after the way the mark on her wrist responded to his presence like a live wire.
Her mind whirled. Bloodlines. Power. Ancient soul. A Council. Danger. None of it made sense. She was a med student, not a chosen vessel for supernatural contracts.
A sudden knock echoed through the apartment.
Her breath caught. Her heart stuttered.
She didn't need to ask who it was.
She opened the door.
Lucien stood in the hallway, soaked. Raindrops clung to his dark shirt, outlining every line of his chest and arms. His hair was slicked back, water trailing along the angles of his jaw. And yet, he didn't shiver. He didn't look cold. He looked… haunted.
"I shouldn't be here," he said quietly.
Celeste stared at him, her throat tight. "Then why are you?"
Lucien stepped forward, just inside the doorway. His voice was low, strained. "Because I can't stay away from you."
She didn't know who moved first. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was him. But suddenly, the space between them vanished, and Lucien's hands were on her face, cradling it like she might break.
His eyes searched hers. "Tell me to leave, and I will."
Celeste didn't answer.
Because she didn't want him to leave.
Not tonight.
Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the dampness of his shirt, the solid warmth beneath. She rose onto her toes, heart thundering, every nerve in her body alive and screaming.
Lucien leaned in slowly, as if giving her one last chance to stop him.
She didn't.
Their lips met.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't tentative.
It was a storm, fierce, aching, full of everything they couldn't say. His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that made her gasp. His hands moved down to her waist, pulling her closer, as if needing to feel every part of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers sinking into his wet hair. His kiss deepened, and her knees nearly buckled.
The soulbound mark burned. Hot. Alive. It pulsed with the same rhythm as her heart, binding them tighter with every breathless second.
When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless.
Celeste blinked up at him, stunned.
Lucien's expression was unreadable. Tension radiated from him like heat off fire. His jaw clenched, and for a heartbeat, she thought he might kiss her again.
But he stepped back.
"I shouldn't have done that," he whispered, voice wrecked.
Celeste's heart was still racing. "Then why did you?"
"Because I'm selfish," he said. "Because I wanted to feel what it was like before you knew."
"Knew what?"
Lucien didn't answer.
Instead, he reached for her hand, brushing his thumb over the soulbound mark. It flared under his touch. "Tomorrow, I will tell you everything."
Her voice was quiet. "No more riddles?"
"No more lies."
Then he was gone, vanishing into the storm.
---
The next morning came gray and heavy with fog.
Celeste dressed in silence, pulling on jeans and a fitted black turtleneck, trying to ignore the way her lips still tingled from his kiss. She hadn't slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she relived the moment. The way he touched her. The raw emotion in his kiss. The way he looked at her like he wanted to consume her whole.
She was falling. Fast. And she didn't know how to stop.
Lucien arrived at her door promptly at nine. He was back in his usual attire, crisp dark slacks, black coat, polished shoes. Impossibly perfect. A stark contrast to the chaos he left in her veins.
"You're quiet," he said as they stepped into the elevator.
Celeste glanced at him. "Trying to decide if last night actually happened."
Lucien looked straight ahead. "It did."
They drove in silence, the car gliding through fog-covered streets like a phantom. The city felt distant. Unreal. Celeste's hands were cold in her lap, but she couldn't tell if it was nerves or anticipation.
The building they arrived at was old, nestled between skyscrapers like a secret. Black iron gates opened without a sound. Inside, the marble floor was etched with strange symbols that shimmered faintly under the chandeliers.
"What is this place?" she asked.
Lucien didn't look at her. "A neutral zone. The Council cannot strike here."
Celeste's steps slowed. "You keep mentioning this Council. Who are they?"
Lucien stopped in front of a tall door carved with flames and thorns.
"They are the ones who govern my kind."
Celeste turned to him, blood pounding. "Your kind?"
Lucien opened the door.
The room beyond was circular, lit by floating fire orbs that hovered near the ceiling. At its center stood a pedestal of obsidian stone. And on it, a mirror.
Not just any mirror.
Its surface rippled like water. And in its reflection… was not her.
The woman staring back had her face. Her eyes. But they glowed faintly. And behind her, wings of smoke and fire curled in and out of focus.
Celeste stepped back.
"What is that?"
Lucien stepped beside her, his voice solemn.
"It shows your soul."
She turned to him. "Why does it look like that?"
I don't know
Lucien was shocked himself cause he didn't understand why.
Lucien reached for the pedestal.
He looked at her, no longer guarded.
"I told you I would tell you the truth."
Celeste held her breath.
"I am the heir to a throne that should never exist. The blood that runs through me is older than the stars. My father is the ruler of the realm below. The first to fall. The Morning Star."
Celeste's eyes widened. "You're saying…"
"Yes." His voice was quiet. "I am the Devil's heir."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Celeste stepped back from him. Her pulse thundered in her ears. "You're lying."
"I wish I were."
Her mind reeled. Her stomach turned. Every warning her instincts had screamed made sense now. The power. The heat. The bond. The way he knew things no man should know.
Lucien Valemont was not a man at all.
I'm hallucinating right?
Lucien replied "No"
"You kissed me," she whispered, voice breaking. "You let me feel something for you. And you knew."
Lucien's jaw tightened. "I tried to keep my distance. I failed."
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away. "Is this a game to you?"
"No," he said fiercely. "It's the only thing that's ever felt real."
Celeste turned away from him, chest tight, breath coming in short, furious bursts. "So what now? You drag me to Hell?"
"No." Lucien's voice softened. "But if you walk away from me now… you'll be hunted. They'll come for you. Not because of what you are, but because you're mine."
Celeste turned back to him, eyes burning.
"I don't belong to anyone."
The soulbound mark burned in protest.
But she ignored it.