~~~
The morning light filtered dimly through the thick obsidian curtains of Hazel's chamber. The warmth of the dream still clung to her skin like frost—its intensity too vivid to dismiss. Her breath was steady, but her mind raced with images: a girl in a silver gown, pain blooming like fire on her back, a voice whispering something that still made her limbs feel like ice.
She sat up in bed slowly, pushing her tousled silver hair out of her face. The voice had said: "They will come for you when the wings burn. Not before. Not after." She felt the phantom pain still tingling on her back.
Hazel reached behind her shoulder, fingers tracing over smooth skin, but she couldn't feel anything odd. The memory—if that's what it was—had felt so real. A warning, perhaps. Or a glimpse of something buried.
There was a knock, then Miriam stepped in quietly with a tray of honeyed tea and dark fruit.
"You're awake early," Miriam noted gently, setting the tray down. "I was going to let you sleep in, considering last night."
Hazel gave her a long, searching look. "Miriam…" she began carefully, watching her maid's face. "Do you remember… before we left the human world. Did you ever… notice anything strange on my back? A mark, perhaps?"
Miriam blinked, startled. "A mark?"
Hazel nodded. "On my upper back. Like… wings. A birthmark, maybe. Or something that looked like it was carved into me."
The tray of fruit was forgotten as Miriam lowered herself slowly into the velvet chair by the bed. Her face softened, cautious.
"There was… something. I only saw it once, when I was helping you dress years ago, after your coming-of-age celebration. and the mark was faint then, like a shadow of something not yet fully formed. I didn't say anything. I thought perhaps it was just a scar from your childhood or… maybe something noble blood carried." Her brows furrowed. "Why do you ask now?"
Hazel exhaled slowly. "Because I think… I remembered something that didn't belong to me. Or maybe it did. I don't know anymore." She rubbed her temples, trying to dispel the lingering ache. "It was painful. It felt like something was being branded onto me. It wasn't a dream. It was… a memory. One that didn't feel like mine at all."
"You regained your memories?" She beamed.
"No, no. I hope not, regaining Hazel's memory might be the end of me, what if she comes back?" Hazel looked lost in thought for a moment.
"Huh?" Miriam raised a brow.
"No it was just a glimpse,"
There was a long silence before Miriam whispered, "Yes. A long time ago, before everything changed. But you told me never to mention it."
Hazel blinked. "I did?"
Miriam nodded. "You said it was cursed. That it made you different. You were terrified of what it meant."
Hazel looked away, something tightening in her chest. "It still terrifies me."
Miriam was quiet for a long moment. "Do you think this has something to do with why the demons can't read your thoughts?"
Hazel looked up, her eyes serious. "I think it has everything to do with that."
Before Miriam could respond, a soft knock at the outer door signaled a summons. A demon attendant entered, bowing low.
"Lady Hazel. You are requested in the west garden. King Lycan awaits you."
Hazel exchanged a glance with Miriam.
The west garden, if it could be called that, was a jagged courtyard of violet-black thorns and glowing obsidian lilies. A thin mist clung to the edges, and the air was heavier here, as though the place breathed with ancient magic.
Hazel walked slowly, heels tapping against the stone until she spotted him—Lycan. Tall, brooding, a scar running from his jaw to his collarbone. He stood with his arms folded, eyes burning gold as he turned to look at her.
"You came," he said simply.
"I was summoned," she replied, voice laced with that signature boldness of hers.
Lycan gave a small grunt, his lips curving slightly. "I was curious."
"About what?" she asked, tilting her head.
His eyes dropped briefly to her neckline, then back up to meet her gaze. "About why I can't hear you. Why your scent is unlike any human's. Why… you feel like a secret trying not to be discovered."
Hazel felt a cold knot of dread and intrigue twist in her chest. "Maybe I'm just not the type to be figured out."
He stepped closer. "I think you're something rare. Something dangerous. And dangerous things usually come with a warning label."
She took a step forward too, refusing to flinch. "What if I'm the kind of danger you can't tame?"
His eyes flashed with amusement. "Then I'd be the fool who tried anyway."
For a breathless second, the silence between them was charged.
But then, from the far archway, footsteps approached—and Ares emerged like a flame wrapped in velvet. Dark red robes draped from his broad shoulders, and his lips parted in that familiar, teasing smile.
"Interrupting something?" he asked, though he clearly didn't mind.
Hazel stepped back from Lycan instinctively. Ares approached her directly, his eyes sweeping over her face with something softer than usual.
"You've been quiet," he noted. "I missed the sound of your sass."
Hazel chuckled. "I figured I'd give your ego a break."
Ares smirked, but there was something different in his eyes today. Less flirtation, more curiosity. More… care.
He leaned in slightly, his voice lower now. "I heard you fell ill last night."
Her smile faltered.
"I hear everything," he added, more gently. "And I've seen many like you before—but none who carry something so… veiled."
Hazel's throat tightened. "What do you mean 'like me'?"
Ares looked into her eyes, and for a moment his expression was not kingly or mischievous—it was almost sorrowful.
"I mean… someone hiding from the fire burning within them. Someone trying not to become what they already are."
Hazel didn't know what to say. She turned away slightly, as if the weight of his gaze might unravel her.
Ares reached out, gently touching her shoulder—not in seduction, but something strangely protective.
"You don't have to tell me what it is," he murmured. "But know this—should the fire consume you, I'll be the one who walks into it to find you again."
She froze, heart thudding.
And he pulled away before she could respond, his usual smirk returning like a mask. "Of course, if you die, who'll argue with me over dinner?"
Hazel laughed despite herself, and he gave her one last glance before walking off into the shadows.
Miriam reappeared moments later, breathless. "The council has been summoned. King Hades is preparing to make an announcement."
Hazel turned to her, still feeling the echo of Ares' words.
"What kind of announcement?" she asked.
Miriam hesitated. "I don't know. But I have a feeling… the Citadel is about to change."
.
.
.
That evening in the Infernal Court Hall
The throne room was filled. Elders, warriors, emissaries from the other regions, and the lesser demon lords. Torches flared blue, casting flickering shadows along obsidian columns. The scent of brimstone and old magic coiled in the air.
Then Hades entered.
Tall, draped in an obsidian cloak that shimmered with shadows, the Demon King stepped to the dais, his expression carved from stone.
Hazel stood to the side, near the front, eyes locked onto him.
Hades raised his hand. The room fell silent.
"As King of the Hellfire Citadel and Warden of the Abyss, I summon all lords, elders, and court members to bear witness.
The rebellion brews not only from the East, but from the cracks of our forgotten alliances.
To ensure the strength of this realm, I will soon appoint a Queen Consort in full ceremony—not just in name, but in power.
Lady Hazel of Aetheria, bound to me by treaty, will be recognized before the Demon Council at the upcoming Blood Moon Gathering.
All objections, if any, must be raised before then… or remain buried."
A shocked murmur rippled across the room.
Hazel's chest tightened.
Ares glanced at her.
Lycan clenched his jaw.
And far in the corner, hidden by shadows, Lysa, Velia, and Nyra watched with cold, murderous eyes.
Hazel forced a smile. Then stepped forward, lifting her chin.
"Well, that's a surprise." Her voice rang through the hall, soft yet clear. "I thought I was just a war prize."
Some demons laughed nervously.
Hades didn't smile. "You're far more dangerous than that."
Their eyes met — and something unspoken passed between them.
Hazel smiled wider, cheekily. "So I've been told."