Chapter Five: An Angel in the Devil's Bed
Under the moon's pale gaze, Angelina felt herself running through the woods. All the trees had no leaves, and the ground beneath her was clothed with ash and bones. She was running from something—what it was, she didn't know. Her lungs burned with each breath, her legs screaming in protest.
Soon, she reached a dead end. Strong energy swept her off the ground, pulling her through the air. She landed hard in a cave. Blood stained the walls in strange patterns. Gutted corpses and bones littered the ground, making the cave look like a scene from nightmares.
"Who are you?!" Angelina screamed into the darkness.
Evil laughter echoed through the cave. An invisible force shoved her face-first against the wall. Upon closer inspection, the walls had carvings—a message. She squinted, trying to make out the words, but her vision blurred.
When Melione awakens, the realms will fall...
The scene shifted. She stood in a field where women and children wept over the dead, cursing a name.
"May Melione rot in the deepest pit of hell!" they screamed.
The land was a wasteland. Only ash remained on the ground, no sign of vegetation or life.
"You did this!" a voice whispered in her ear.
A woman appeared before her, eyes completely black, white dress soaked in blood. Her teeth were clenched, fangs visible. She raised a bloody knife high.
"So you see now—you have to die."
"No!" Angelina screamed, bolting upright in bed.
Her hand flew to her chest, feeling her heart hammering against her ribs. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead. The room was dark except for moonlight streaming through the window.
"I should really start taping your lips at night," came Lothaire's cold voice from the shadows.
Angelina jumped, her eyes searching until she spotted him sitting in a chair near the window, watching her.
"How long have you been there?" she asked, trying to steady her breathing.
"Long enough to hear you scream three times." He stood, walking toward the bed. "What do you dream about that terrifies an angel so much?"
Angelina pulled the duvet closer. "None of your concern."
"Everything about you is my concern now." His eyes gleamed in the darkness. "You're in my realm, sleeping in my bed, bound to me whether you like it or not."
"I didn't ask for any of this," she shot back.
Lothaire studied her for a long moment. "No. I suppose you didn't." He turned toward the door. "Try to keep the screaming down. Some of us don't sleep."
After he left, Angelina released a shaky breath. She touched the spot on her neck where he'd bitten her. The two tiny dots were barely visible, but she could feel them—a constant reminder of that night in the cave.
What's happening to me?
***
Morning came too quickly. Angelina had barely drifted back to sleep when a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," she called, expecting one of the soulless maids.
Instead, a woman with vibrant purple eyes entered, carrying a tray. Unlike the other servants, her eyes were full of life, and a knowing smile played on her lips.
"Good morning, princess. I hope you slept well." There was amusement in her tone, as if she knew that was a lie.
"Who are you?" Angelina asked, sitting up.
"Astra." The woman set the tray on the bedside table. "I'm the head housekeeper, though that's not my only occupation."
Angelina studied her carefully. Something about Astra felt different from everyone else in this cursed place.
"What's your other occupation?" she asked cautiously.
Astra walked to the window, where a withered black rose sat in a vase. She placed her hand over it, whispering words Angelina couldn't quite hear. The rose bloomed before her eyes, petals unfurling into dark, velvety beauty.
Angelina's eyes widened. "You're a witch!"
"Don't sound so horrified." Astra laughed. "Not all witches eat children and curse innocent people, you know."
"Don't kill me," Angelina blurted out, then felt foolish for saying it.
"Kill you?" Astra turned, genuine amusement on her face. "Princess, I'm here to help you. That is, if you're smart enough to accept help."
"Help me? Why would a witch help an angel?"
Astra sat on the edge of the bed, her expression turning serious. "Because I've been watching you your whole life, waiting for this moment."
A chill ran down Angelina's spine. "What do you mean?"
"Do you know why your powers never manifested?" Astra asked. "Why you're a 'late bloomer' while your brother's powers came easily?"
Angelina shook her head, a lump forming in her throat.
"Because they were suppressed. Your father had it done when you were an infant." Astra's purple eyes bore into hers. "He was protecting you from those who would kill you if they knew what you really are."
"What... what am I?"
"That's for you to discover. But first, you need to learn control. Let me tell you something, princess—this is Cinderfall, where the weak crumble and only the strong survive. You want to stay alive? You want any chance of freedom? You need to stop being helpless."
Angelina thought about her life in Arcadia. How Celeste and Uriela mocked her. How her father decided her fate without asking. How she'd been running and being carried around since she arrived here, with no power over her own life.
She straightened her spine. "What do I need to do?"
Astra smiled. "That's the spirit. Get dressed and meet me in the rose garden after breakfast."
***
The rose garden was vast and beautiful in a haunting way. Black, red, and deep purple roses grew in organized chaos. Angelina never would have imagined the devil caring about flowers.
"Magic requires balance," Astra said, leading her to the center of the garden. "Emotional and physical. But the emotional part is crucial." She plucked two withered roses from a dying bush, handing one to Angelina.
"Watch carefully." Astra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her face became serene, peaceful. "Anthos antheros," she whispered.
The withered flower in her hand bloomed, petals spreading wide and vibrant.
"Your turn," Astra said, handing Angelina the other withered rose.
"I've tried magic before," Angelina protested, memories of Celeste and Uriela's mocking laughter flooding back. "It never works."
"That's because you were trying with a broken foundation. Close your eyes."
Reluctantly, Angelina obeyed.
"Imagine yourself in a vast field," Astra's voice was soothing. "Smell the fragrant roses. Feel the wind on your skin. Let it guide you. Magic isn't about forcing—it's about allowing."
Angelina took a deep breath. She pictured herself in a field, surrounded by roses. The wind wrapped around her like a gentle embrace. She felt something stir inside her—something that had been sleeping for so long.
"Anthos antheros," she whispered.
Warmth spread through her palm. She opened her eyes.
The rose had bloomed.
"I did it!" Joy exploded in her chest. "I actually did it!"
"I told you." Astra smiled. "It's not hard when your emotions are stable and your mind is open. You're not powerless, Angelina. You never were."
Tears pricked Angelina's eyes. For the first time in her life, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she wasn't broken.
"Your blood freed the devil from his prison," Astra said quietly. "That's not nothing, princess. That kind of power doesn't come from nowhere."
Angelina stared at the bloomed rose in her hand. "What does that mean?"
"It means you're more important than you realize. And you need to be ready for what's coming."
Unknown to them, two maids were watching from Lothaire's study window.
"I heard she's an angel," Anna whispered to Irene.
"The devil and an angel together—that's unnatural," Irene replied, her nose wrinkling in disgust.
In their distraction, Anna's elbow knocked over a crystal vase. It fell, shattering against the floor.
"What have you done, you idiot?!" Aquila rushed in, her eyes blazing.
Anna's face went pale. "I... it was an accident. I'm sorry!"
Aquila's gaze shifted to the window, landing on Angelina smiling in the garden below. Her expression darkened. An angel, crawling into their master's bed. How shameless. Only Lilith was worthy of being the devil's queen.
"What got you so distracted?" Aquila demanded.
"The angel, miss. We were just talking about—"
"I see." Aquila's mind began working. "Clean this up. And don't mention this to anyone. I'll handle it."
After the maids scurried away, Aquila stared down at Angelina. A plan was forming in her mind.