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Rain clung to the rooftops like shadows unwilling to fade, whispering through the cracks in the cobblestones as if the city itself mourned. The air was cold and damp, thick with silence—too silent. Serin felt it wrap around her like a second skin, pressing down on her as she stood before the crumbling chapel, its stained glass shattered and long-forgotten.
She hadn't meant to come here. Not really. Her feet had carried her on instinct, drawn to something… or someone.
Every part of her wanted to turn back, but something stronger—a thread of fate?—kept pulling her toward the rotting double doors. She pushed one open. It groaned like a wounded animal, revealing the decayed interior. Moonlight filtered in through holes in the ceiling, casting fractured light on worn pews and a collapsed altar.
And there he was.
Lucien.
His coat was dark with rain, yet his hair fell dry and perfect around his face, shadows dancing along his cheekbones. He stood near the altar, his back to her, but even without seeing his eyes, Serin could feel them—felt the weight of them on her soul.
"You followed me," he said without turning. His voice echoed in the empty chapel, soft but sharp enough to slice through her defenses.
Serin hesitated before answering. "I didn't mean to."
He turned slowly, his expression unreadable. "Then why are you here?"
Her breath hitched. The answer was a mess of truths she didn't know how to unravel. Because I can't stop thinking about you. Because you haunt me, even when I'm awake. Because when I'm near you, I forget how broken I am.
Instead, she said, "I had questions."
Lucien's smirk was bitter. "You always do."
"Who are you, really?" she whispered, stepping forward. The distance between them was a battlefield. "You said you're not human. That you're something else. But you never explain."
He walked down the cracked steps, every movement elegant, controlled. Dangerous. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
Lucien stopped inches from her, close enough that she could see the faint glow in his eyes. A golden hue flickered beneath the darkness, like fire beneath ash.
"I was born of sin," he said. "Forged in a place where light doesn't reach. I've clawed my way through centuries of war, betrayal, and damnation."
Serin's breath caught. "Hell?"
His smirk widened. "Not as poetic as the books make it sound. But yes."
She blinked. "So, what? You're a demon?"
He tilted his head. "Do I look like a demon?"
Serin swallowed. "You look like something cursed."
A low chuckle escaped him. "Smart girl."
Silence fell again, except for the rain dripping from broken beams. She looked away, trying to process everything. "Why me, then? Why are you so interested in me?"
Lucien's eyes darkened. "Because you're not supposed to exist."
Her heart froze. "What?"
He stepped closer. "You carry something inside you. Power that shouldn't belong to a mortal. A fragment of something divine… or damned. And they know it. They want it."
"Who?"
Lucien glanced toward the chapel doors. "The ones who sent me."
"You were sent?" she asked, voice cracking. "So all this time—"
"Yes. I was supposed to find you, mark you, and bring you back." His gaze burned into her. "But I didn't expect you."
Serin's knees threatened to give out. "So it was all fake? The protection? The kisses? Everything?"
"No," he said, fierce. "That's the problem."
Before she could reply, the chapel trembled. The air thickened like fog, and the temperature dropped to a bone-deep chill. A voice echoed through the rafters, raspy and unnatural.
"Lucien," it hissed. "You've broken the covenant."
Lucien's face hardened. "Damn it."
Shadows poured in through the cracks in the walls like smoke. Figures began to form—faceless, tall, cloaked in darkness. One by one, they stepped inside, surrounding the chapel.
Serin's blood ran cold. "What are they?"
Lucien reached for her hand. "Executioners."
His grip tightened, and black markings pulsed beneath the skin of his palm. Serin felt something surge through her, like fire and ice colliding inside her chest.
"You have to run," Lucien growled. "Now."
"No!" she shouted, clinging to him. "I'm not leaving you here!"
He looked at her, and for the first time, she saw something break in him—desperation. Regret. Something achingly human.
"If they take you," he said softly, "they'll rip you apart until there's nothing left but ashes."
"And if they take you?"
Lucien didn't answer. Instead, he kissed her.
It was rough, urgent, full of every unspoken truth between them. The cold melted. The fear vanished. For a single heartbeat, there was only the fire between them.
Then he pushed her away.
A blast of black flame erupted from his body, throwing her back against a broken pew. Her vision blurred. Pain bloomed in her shoulder, but she could still see him—Lucien, rising with wings of shadows, his form shifting. Horns curled from his head. Claws grew from his fingers.
He had become the demon.
The figures lunged.
He met them midair with a snarl, ripping through the dark with lethal grace. Every strike he landed echoed like thunder. Blood—thick and inky—splattered the walls. But there were too many of them.
Serin tried to move, but her limbs felt like stone. Her head screamed in protest. She fought to stay awake, to keep her eyes on Lucien as the battle raged.
One of the creatures broke through and rushed her. She barely had time to scream before it was on top of her. Claws slashed out—
Then stopped.
A blinding light exploded from her chest, knocking the creature back. It screamed—a horrible, distorted cry—and evaporated in golden flame.
Lucien paused mid-battle, staring at her.
"It's awakening…" he whispered.
Serin looked down. Her hands were glowing. Her heart pulsed with light, and she could feel something ancient—something terrifying—unfurling inside her.
"What's happening to me?"
Lucien landed beside her, grabbing her hand again. "Your soul is fighting back. The power inside you—it's not human."
"Then what is it?"
He hesitated. "A Seraph's grace. Long thought destroyed. It's what they're after. What I was sent to retrieve."
Her head spun. "You were supposed to steal it from me?"
He nodded. "But I didn't. I couldn't."
The shadows closed in again, regrouping.
Lucien pulled her close. "You have to trust me. If we're going to survive this, you have to choose."
"Choose what?"
"To become what you were meant to be."
She looked into his eyes. Behind the fire, the fury, the curse—was a boy who had been broken by the world he was born into. And she realized she wasn't the only one searching for salvation.
"Then help me," she whispered. "I'll choose it. But not without you."
Lucien closed his eyes. When he opened them, they blazed with purpose.
He placed his hand over her heart. "Then let me show you."
A beam of light shot from her chest, into his hand, into the ground beneath them. The entire chapel trembled. The shadows screamed.
And then everything went white.
---
Serin opened her eyes to silence.
The chapel was gone.
Or maybe it had never existed.
She stood in a vast void of light, and across from her, Lucien stood—not as a demon, not as an executioner, but as a man. Whole. Barefoot. Shirtless. Wings of starlight extended from his back.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Between realms," he said. "This is where the old world ends… and the new one begins."
He stepped toward her, gently brushing his fingers down her arm. "You've already changed, Serin. You just haven't accepted it yet."
"I don't know how."
He took her hands. "Let me help you remember."
And with that, he leaned in, their foreheads touching. Memories not her own began to flood her mind—flashes of wings, fire, music that spoke in colors, war among angels and demons, a Seraph falling in love with a mortal girl. Forbidden. Punishable by death.
That girl… looked just like her.
"Is that… me?" she asked, dazed.
Lucien nodded. "You were reborn. The Seraph's soul hid inside you. That's why you're different. That's why they fear you."
Serin stepped back. "So what am I now? An angel? A monster?"
Lucien smiled faintly. "Something entirely new."
She looked at him, uncertain. "And you?"
He bowed his head. "Still damned."
"Then I'll break your curse," she said, with a fierceness she didn't know she had. "If I have this power, then I'll use it to save you."
Lucien stared at her, something breaking open in his eyes. "No one's ever said that to me."
Serin lifted his chin. "Then let me be the first."
The light around them dimmed. The void began to collapse.
"We have to go," Lucien said.
"Back?"
He nodded. "Back to the world. The war's not over."
Serin took a breath, the glowing fire still alive in her chest. She was no longer just a broken girl caught in a curse.
She was the storm that would end it.
And this time, she wouldn't run.
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