The city lights blurred past the tinted windows of Lucien's car, but Celeste barely noticed them. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, shoulders rigid, eyes trained on the black nothingness outside. Not once had she looked at him since they got into the car.
Lucien didn't push. He drove in silence, one hand on the wheel, the other twitching slightly on the gearshift. The air between them was sharp. Tense. As if the car itself was holding its breath.
Celeste's mind was a storm.
You're bound to me now. That mark proves it.
His voice kept playing in her head like a broken record, whispering through every heartbeat, digging into her spine like ice.
The Devil's heir.
She clenched her jaw. Her fingers dug into the sleeves of her coat.
She had kissed him. And after that, he had torn her world in two.
Lucien cast a glance her way, careful not to let it linger. She hadn't spoken since they left the manor. No questions, no anger. That wasn't like her. He expected fire. What he got instead was something worse,distance.
But that mirror.
Her reflection had flickered , not twisted, not demonic, but... wrong. Unfamiliar.
He hadn't said a word about it, but the image haunted him.
The car pulled up in front of Celeste's apartment. Rain had begun to mist on the windshield.
Lucien cut the engine. "We need to talk."
Celeste's hand was already on the door handle.
"No," she said quietly. "You need to leave."
She didn't wait for his response.
The door slammed shut behind her.
---
Celeste closed the apartment door, locked it, and leaned back against the wood, finally allowing herself to exhale. Her legs were shaky. Her head throbbed. Every moment since that kiss felt unreal.
In the mirror across the hallway, her soulbound mark pulsed faintly soft blue light radiating through the skin on her wrist. The pulse matched the beat of her heart, and for a moment, she imagined it glowing brighter than before. But she blinked and it was back to a faint shimmer.
He's the Devil's heir. And I'm bound to him.
She pressed her fingers to her temples. What did that make her?
The mark had appeared after her dream after that dream. The kiss, the fire, the way she had seen herself not as a girl, but something else entirely. And now this.
She moved to the sink, splashed cold water on her face, and dared a glance in the mirror.
Her reflection stared back but for a split second, she swore its eyes were glowing.
---
Lucien sat in the darkness of his penthouse, the glass of whiskey untouched in his hand. He had taken off his jacket, undone the top buttons of his shirt, but nothing eased the tension wrapping around his chest.
The image of her in the mirror replayed in his mind again and again.
It had shimmered like hers was layered over something else.
Not demonic. Not angelic either. Just... ancient. Untamed.
And that kiss, that kiss had felt like something binding. Not just physical. Not just passion. He remembered the way her eyes had fluttered open, confused, startled, like her soul was waking up to something she couldn't name.
"Who are you really, Celeste Arden?" he muttered under his breath.
But he didn't have long to ponder. A flare of heat sparked at his wrist. His own soulbound mark,a brand only he could see burned faintly beneath his skin.
Something was shifting.
---
The Next Day
Celeste didn't sleep.
When morning came, she sat at the kitchen table, staring into a half-empty cup of tea, wearing a hoodie too big and a heart too heavy.
The knock on the door startled her. She already knew who it was before she opened it.
Lucien stood there, dressed in all black, like sin wrapped in silk.
"I need you to come with me."
"I told you I didn't want—"
"This isn't about us," he cut in. "It's about the mark."
Celeste hesitated.
Lucien stepped closer, lowering his voice. "There's someone who may know why it glows like that. I trust them. Barely. But they've seen this kind of binding before."
She didn't move.
He added, "They asked for you by name."
That stopped her.
---
They drove in silence again, this time not from tension, but shared confusion. The air buzzed with unspoken questions, the kind too heavy to voice.
Lucien brought her to an estate far from the city. The gates opened to reveal a sprawling property that felt ancient, even though the walls were freshly polished. Inside, everything was silent. Almost reverent.
A woman in crimson robes stood waiting in the courtyard. Her eyes glowed gold, a priestess, maybe. Or something more.
Celeste stepped forward, uncertain.
And then, to her shock, the woman dropped to one knee.
"My lady," the woman whispered, bowing her head. "You have returned."