I did not sleep.
Not really.
When I closed my eyes, I was standing in a vast black hall again.
Not the throne room.
This place was different.
Circular. Endless columns stretching upward into shadows. The floor was carved with symbols I could not read but somehow understood. They pulsed faintly beneath my feet.
"You are late."
His voice echoed from behind me.
I did not turn immediately.
"I was asleep," I replied.
A soft chuckle.
"You are asleep."
I turned then.
Lucifer stood a few steps away, dressed in black again, sleeves rolled slightly as if this were casual for him. His long dark hair fell freely over his shoulders. His grey eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Training."
He walked toward me slowly.
Everything about him felt controlled. Deliberate. Even the way his boots touched the stone sounded intentional.
"For what exactly?" I crossed my arms.
"To rule."
"I did not agree to that."
"You keep saying that," he replied lightly. "It does not change anything."
I rolled my eyes.
He noticed.
"You are bold," he said.
"You are annoying."
His lips curved.
"And yet you came."
I hated that he was right.
"I do not choose when I come here."
"You chose to keep your eyes closed longer tonight."
My breath caught slightly.
I said nothing.
He stepped closer.
"Do not lie to me, Aurélie."
"I prefer Melanie."
"I know."
He reached out suddenly, brushing his fingers along my wrist.
My entire body reacted instantly.
Heat.
Electricity.
I pulled back.
"Do not touch me."
"Why?"
His voice was softer now.
Dangerously softer.
"Because I do not trust you."
He tilted his head.
"Smart."
He stepped around me slowly, circling as if inspecting something valuable.
"You hide your fear well."
"I am not afraid."
He stopped behind me.
His voice lowered near my ear.
"Your pulse says otherwise."
I swallowed.
He was close enough that I could feel the warmth of him against my back without actual contact.
"I could make you kneel," he murmured.
Anger flared.
"Try."
Silence.
Then laughter.
Low and rich.
"I like that," he said.
Before I could react, the floor beneath me shifted.
Symbols glowed brighter.
A wave of energy surged through the room.
My knees buckled instinctively.
I fought it.
Forced myself upright.
He watched with clear amusement.
"Good," he said softly. "Very good."
I glared at him.
"You enjoy this."
"Immensely."
The room dissolved before I could respond.
I woke up with a sharp inhale.
Morning light filtered through my curtains.
My body felt warm.
Too warm.
I sat up quickly.
Joseph's voice echoed from downstairs.
"Melanie, you are going to be late!"
Right.
University.
Normal life.
I forced myself into routine. Shower. Jeans. Oversized sweater. Hair down.
I avoided looking at the painting.
I failed.
The demon on the canvas looked even more like him now.
More detailed.
More alive.
I grabbed my bag and left before I could think too much.
The town looked ordinary as always. Grey sky. Quiet streets. The bookstore sign swinging slightly in the wind as I passed it.
Mom was already inside, arranging books.
She smiled when she saw me.
"You look tired."
"I studied."
A lie.
She nodded, not pressing.
I hated that I was already lying.
By the time I reached campus, Katy and Orla were sitting on the stone wall near the art building.
Orla spotted me first.
She stood dramatically and pointed.
"She lives."
I snorted.
"Barely."
Katy smiled softly.
"You look pale," she said.
"I always look pale."
Orla narrowed her eyes.
"You look distracted."
"Art student," I replied. "It is part of the aesthetic."
Orla looped her arm through mine as we walked.
She smelled like vanilla gloss and expensive perfume.
"So," she said casually, "we need drama. My life is boring."
Katy rolled her eyes.
"Your life is never boring."
Orla grinned mischievously.
"I saw you staring at Noah yesterday."
Katy choked slightly.
"I was not."
"Yes you were," Orla teased. "You looked like you wanted to dissect him."
"That is biology," Katy defended.
I laughed.
It felt good.
Normal.
For a moment, the ticking disappeared from my mind.
Orla glanced at me.
"You are too quiet."
"I am just tired."
She studied me longer than I liked.
Orla notices everything.
We spent the afternoon between classes, gossiping about professors and complaining about assignments. Katy talked about a lab experiment gone wrong. Orla complained about a makeup client who wanted natural but also dramatic.
I listened.
Watched.
Memorized.
Because I suddenly understood that every normal moment was temporary.
Later that evening, I was alone in my room again.
The house was quiet.
Joseph was out.
Mom was downstairs reading.
I sat on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
"You are thinking too loudly."
I froze.
He was leaning casually against my bedroom wall.
Arms crossed.
As if he had always been there.
My heart jumped.
"You cannot just appear like that."
He smirked.
"I can."
I stood quickly.
"If my mother sees you…"
"She will not."
"How do you know?"
He stepped closer.
"Because I do not wish her to."
His confidence was infuriating.
"You enjoy risking things," I said.
"I enjoy you being nervous."
"I am not nervous."
He stepped even closer.
Our bodies inches apart.
"Yes," he said softly. "You are."
My back hit the wall.
I had not realized I was moving.
His hand lifted slowly, fingers brushing my hair back from my face.
The touch was gentle.
Too gentle.
"This is wrong," I whispered.
His eyes darkened slightly.
"Forbidden things are often the most interesting."
My pulse was racing.
"If my mom walks in…"
"She will not."
"You do not know that."
A slow smile.
"I do."
His hand slid to my waist again.
Firm.
Possessive.
My breath hitched.
"You hide me," he murmured. "As if I am a secret lover."
Heat rushed to my face.
"You are not my lover."
"Not yet."
The words lingered between us.
He leaned closer.
Not kissing.
Just close enough that I could feel his breath against my lips.
"You pretend to hate this," he whispered.
"I do hate this."
"Then push me away."
I should have.
I did not.
His thumb traced small circles against my hip.
Teasing.
Testing.
"You are dangerous," I said.
"I know."
He seemed pleased.
A floorboard creaked downstairs.
My heart nearly stopped.
"Go," I hissed.
He chuckled softly.
"You are adorable when you panic."
Another creak.
Footsteps.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear.
"Goodnight, future queen."
Then he vanished.
Just like that.
I collapsed onto my bed, heart pounding violently.
This is insane.
This cannot be my life.
I pressed my hands over my face.
One month.
How am I supposed to leave them?
My thoughts drifted back to what he said.
Grandmother.
Witch.
Deal.
If I want answers, I need her.
And if I want her…
I need my father.
The idea made my stomach twist.
He left us.
He abandoned mom.
He abandoned me.
Why should I look for him?
But he is the only link.
The only way to find her.
The ticking began again.
Soft.
Steady.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
I sat up slowly.
"Fine," I whispered to the empty room.
"If you want me so badly…"
My jaw tightened.
"I will find out why."
And for that, I would have to do the one thing I swore I would never do.
Find my father.