Ariya had always believed the forest was cursed.
That was what the elders said—what everyone in her village whispered whenever the wind howled too loudly or shadows lingered too long between the trees. No one crossed the forest after sunset. No one stepped beyond the old stone markers carved with symbols no one could read anymore.
And yet, here she was.
The moon hung low in the sky, pale and watchful, as Ariya tightened her cloak around her shoulders and pushed deeper into the forest. Dry leaves crunched beneath her boots, the sound echoing far too loudly in the unnatural silence. Even the insects had gone quiet, as if they sensed she did not belong here.
She shouldn't have come.
She knew that.
But when her younger brother fell ill, when the healers shook their heads and said there was nothing more they could do, desperation had outweighed fear. The old books spoke of a flower—the Night Ember Bloom—a plant said to grow only beyond the Veil. A plant rumored to cure even death's shadow.
Demons guarded it, the stories claimed.
Ariya swallowed hard and forced herself forward.
The air began to change the deeper she went. It grew warmer, heavier, as if the forest itself were breathing. Her lantern flickered, the flame bending unnaturally, casting distorted shadows against the trees. The symbols carved into the stones around her feet began to glow faintly red.
Her heart pounded.
"This is madness," she whispered to herself, though she didn't turn back.
Then the world shifted.
It wasn't sudden—not like stepping off a cliff—but more like falling into a dream. The forest blurred, colors melting and twisting, and the ground beneath her feet pulsed with heat. Ariya gasped as the lantern flame extinguished itself, leaving her standing in darkness lit only by a crimson glow.
When her vision cleared, the forest was gone.
In its place stood jagged black stone, towering cliffs, and a sky painted in shades of deep red and ember gold. Rivers of molten fire carved glowing paths through the land, and the air hummed with power—ancient, alive, and dangerous.
Ariya staggered back, breath caught in her throat.
"I crossed it," she whispered.
"The Veil…"
A low growl echoed behind her.
Her blood ran cold.
Slowly, she turned.
He stood several steps away, tall and unmoving, as if carved from shadow itself. Curved black horns swept back through dark hair that fell to his shoulders. His eyes—burning gold with flecks of fire—locked onto hers with sharp intensity. Dark markings traced his skin like living embers, glowing faintly beneath the surface.
A demon.
Every story she had ever heard flooded her mind—demons who fed on fear, who slaughtered humans without mercy, who delighted in pain. Her legs trembled, threatening to give out beneath her.
She reached for the dagger at her waist, though she knew how useless it would be.
The demon took a single step forward.
"Human," he said, his voice deep and resonant, carrying the weight of command. "You should not be here."
Ariya's throat tightened. "I—I didn't mean to cross," she lied weakly. "Please… I'll leave."
His gaze sharpened, eyes flicking briefly to the glowing symbols fading behind her. "You passed through a sealed Veil," he said. "That is not an accident."
Fear clawed at her chest. She took a step back, then another, until her heel struck stone. "I don't want trouble," she said, forcing the words out. "I just need a flower. The Night Ember Bloom. Then I'll go. I swear."
The demon stared at her, unreadable.
Then—unexpectedly—he laughed.
It wasn't cruel or mocking. It was quiet, almost disbelieving. "You cross into the demon realm," he said, "risk execution by the Council, and face me… for a flower?"
Her fingers clenched into fists. "It's for my brother."
Something flickered in his eyes.
For a brief moment, the fire dimmed.
Ariya noticed—and so did he.
His expression hardened instantly. "You must leave," he said. "Now."
Before she could respond, the ground shook.
A roar split the air—loud, furious, and close.
The demon's head snapped toward the sound. "Too late," he muttered.
From the cliffs above, massive shapes moved—winged silhouettes descending fast. Ariya's heart slammed against her ribs as she realized they weren't alone.
"Stay behind me," the demon ordered.
She froze. "Why?"
He didn't look back. "Because if they see you," he said coldly, "they will kill you."
The winged demons landed with thunderous force, claws cracking stone. Their eyes glowed red with hunger, smiles sharp and cruel.
"A human?" one of them sneered. "How amusing."
Ariya's breath came in short gasps.
The demon in front of her straightened, power rolling off him in waves. Flames danced along his markings, brighter now, dangerous and beautiful all at once.
"No one touches her," he said.
The others laughed. "Since when do you protect humans, Kael?"
At the sound of his name, Ariya felt something shift inside her.
Kael.
The demon she was supposed to fear.
Kael's jaw tightened. "Leave," he warned them.
Instead, they lunged.
Fire exploded across the battlefield. Kael moved like living shadow, flames and darkness bending to his will. Ariya watched in stunned silence as he fought—not with cruelty, but with precision, driving the attackers back without killing them.
When the last demon retreated, snarling curses into the air, silence fell once more.
Kael stood still, breathing hard.
Slowly, he turned to face her.
"You are alive," he said quietly. "That is a mistake."
Ariya met his gaze, fear still trembling in her chest—but beneath it, something else stirred. Curiosity. Confusion.
Gratitude.
"Thank you," she said.
Kael's eyes widened slightly, as if the word caught him off guard.
"You should hate me," he replied. "Fear me."
"Maybe I should," Ariya said softly. "But you didn't let them kill me."
The fire in his eyes flickered again.
And in that moment—standing between two worlds—Ariya realized something terrifying.
The demon before her was not the monster she had been taught to fear.
And that truth might cost her everything.