Chapter seven: melione.
"You see," Lothaire continued, "I've been listening since you first started gossiping. The walls in this palace carry sound quite well, if you know how to use them." He released Angelina and turned to face the terrified servants. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice when someone breaks my things?"
"Master, we were only thinking of Lady Lilith—" Aquila tried.
"Lilith can speak for herself when she returns. Until then, you three will spend the next month in the lower dungeons. Perhaps that will teach you not to conspire against my guests."
"Please, Master!" Anna fell to her knees.
"Take them away," Lothaire commanded, and guards appeared to drag the protesting maids down the hallway.
Silence fell.
Angelina's heart was still racing. "You... you believed me?"
Lothaire looked at her, and for a moment, she saw something almost like respect in his eyes. "You escaped a locked room, navigated my palace in the dark, and found evidence to prove your innocence. That's either very brave or very foolish."
"Maybe both," Angelina admitted.
The corner of his mouth twitched—almost a smile. "Come with me."
He led her back to his study. The shattered vase still lay on the floor.
"I'm sorry about the vase," Angelina said quietly. "I know it meant something to you."
Lothaire knelt, picking up the pieces. "It's already broken. Sorry doesn't fix it."
"Maybe not. But..." Angelina knelt beside him. She placed her hands over the shards and closed her eyes, remembering Astra's lessons. "Epanafora."
Warmth flowed through her palms. The crystal pieces trembled, then began moving, drawn together by invisible threads. They fused, cracks sealing until the vase stood whole again.
When she opened her eyes, Lothaire was staring at her.
"How did you—"
"Astra's been teaching me." Angelina stood, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know if it's perfect, but—"
"It's perfect." He stood too, still holding the vase, looking at it with an expression she couldn't read. "You restored something I thought was lost forever."
The weight of his words hung between them.
"We need to talk," Lothaire said finally. "About why you're really here. About what happened in that cave."
Angelina nodded, her hand unconsciously moving to her neck. "The bite."
"The bite." He set the vase carefully on his desk. "When I... when I drew your blood, I didn't know what I was doing. I was more skeleton than man, driven by pure hunger."
"What did you do to me?"
Lothaire turned to face her fully. "I created a mating bond. It's ancient magic, binding two souls together. In the old times, demons used it to mark their mates."
Angelina's stomach dropped. "Mates? You mean—"
"I mean we're bound, little angel. Permanently." His jaw clenched. "I can sense your emotions. Physical separation causes pain for both of us. And neither of us can... be with another."
"How do you know that last part?" she asked, then saw the flash of frustration in his eyes. "Oh."
"Trust me, I've tried." He ran a hand through his hair. "The bond is there whether we like it or not."
"Can it be broken?"
"I don't know. Maybe. But it would require magic beyond anything I've encountered."
Angelina sank into a chair, her mind reeling. "So what, we're just stuck like this? Forever?"
"Unless we find a way to break it, yes." He leaned against his desk, studying her. "I didn't choose this any more than you did."
"Then we're both prisoners," Angelina said bitterly.
"Perhaps." He was quiet for a moment. "Or perhaps we help each other."
She looked up sharply. "What?"
"You want freedom from this bond. I want revenge on those who imprisoned me." Lothaire crossed his arms. "Your father, the archangels, the wizards who helped them—they all paid to see me bound in that cave. But they didn't expect you to free me."
"I didn't mean to—"
"But you did. Which means you have power they feared. Power they went to great lengths to suppress."
Angelina thought of Astra's words. Her suppressed abilities. The reason she was a late bloomer.
"What are you suggesting?"
"A partnership." Lothaire walked toward her. "You help me understand how you broke through my prison. I help you develop your powers and find answers about what you really are. We work together to deal with this bond and the enemies who will come for both of us."
"Why would angels come for me? I'm Michael's daughter."
"Are you?" Lothaire's eyes glinted. "Tell me, little angel—why would an archangel suppress his own daughter's powers? What was he so afraid you'd become?"
The question hung in the air like poison.
Angelina remembered her nightmare. The name the people cursed. Melione.
"What do you know about prophecies?" she asked slowly.
Lothaire's expression sharpened. "What kind of prophecies?"
"In my dreams, I keep seeing the same things. A cave with writing on the walls. A destroyed land. People cursing a name—Melione."
She watched all color drain from Lothaire's face.
"What?" she demanded. "What is it?"
"Melione." He spoke the name like a curse. "It's not just a name. It's a title. In the old tongue, it means 'destroyer of realms.'"
Angelina felt cold all over. "I don't understand."
"There was a prophecy, centuries ago. About a being who would be born with the power to destroy both heaven and hell, to tear down the old order and—" He stopped, staring at her with new intensity. "Your father didn't just suppress your powers. He hid what you are."
"Which is?"
"I don't know yet. But we're going to find out." He extended his hand. "Partnership, little angel? We use each other until we can't anymore?"
Angelina looked at his outstretched hand. Every instinct screamed that trusting the devil was madness.
But he was right—they were bound together. And she needed answers about what she was, why her own father feared her enough to lock away her powers.
She placed her hand in his. "Partnership. But if you betray me—"
"You'll send me back to that cave?" A dark smile crossed his face. "The feeling's mutual."
Their hands clasped, sealing the agreement.
"Get some rest," Lothaire said, releasing her hand. "Tomorrow, Astra will continue your training. And I'll start researching the prophecy. You'll need to be stronger for what's coming."
"What's coming?"
"War, little angel. Your father won't stop searching for you. And when he finds out I have you..." He smiled without humor. "He'll bring every angel in heaven to get you back."
After Angelina left, Lothaire stood alone in his study. He looked at the restored vase, then at his hand where she'd touched him.
A mating bond. Of all the cursed luck.
But she'd shown him something tonight—resourcefulness, courage, power. She wasn't what he expected. Angels were supposed to be weak, bound by rules and righteousness.
Angelina was something else entirely.
And if she truly was connected to the Melione prophecy…
Lothaire walked to the window, looking out over Cinderfall. Everything he'd suffered, everyone who'd betrayed him—they'd all pay. But first, he needed to understand exactly what kind of weapon fate had placed in his hands.
Or what kind of threat.
In her chambers, Angelina lay awake long into the night. She touched the mark on her neck, feeling the strange pulse of magic there.
Bound to the devil. Connected to a prophecy about destroying realms. Her powers finally awakening.
Nothing made sense anymore.
But one thing was clear: she wasn't the helpless princess everyone thought she was. Not anymore.
If she was Melione, if she was the destroyer the prophecy spoke of, then maybe—just maybe—she could destroy the life that had been forced upon her and build something new.
Something free.
She closed her eyes, and this time, she didn't fear the dreams that would come.
She was ready to face them.