I died with my eyes open.
One second I was staring at the sky, the knife buried in my gut, blood pooling beneath me. My killer's face—some punk who'd caught me at the wrong time—already fading from memory as the pain took over.
Then nothing.
Absolute fucking nothing.
Not darkness. Not light. Not cold or hot. Just... absence. Like being erased from existence itself. No heaven. No hell. No reincarnation bullshit. Just the void.
Until it wasn't void anymore.
The memories hit like a truck. No—like a thousand trucks, all slamming into my brain at once. Images. Sounds. Feelings. Knowledge. A whole goddamn life that wasn't mine crashing through my skull.
Purple eyes in the mirror. A father's cold disappointment. Shadow manipulation. Void sight. The 72 Pillars. Devils. Angels. Magic. A mother's gentle hands. A life of privilege. A legacy to uphold.
Who the fuck is Dante Valac?
My head felt ready to split open, pressure building behind my eyes until I wanted to claw them out. Information poured in, memories stacking on memories, identities crashing together like opposing waves. I screamed, but no sound came. I tried to thrash, but had no body to move.
Then suddenly, I did.
Pain lanced through my temples as my consciousness slammed back into physical form. Weight. Substance. Sensation. The soft press of expensive sheets against my skin. The smell of some fancy cologne. The taste of copper in my mouth.
"Young Master! Can you hear me?"
The voice cut through the chaos. Female. Concerned. Familiar in ways it shouldn't be.
I forced my eyes open, vision swimming before focusing on the face above me. A woman leaned over me, her expression tight with worry. Long black hair cascaded around her face like a curtain. Red eyes—actual red eyes—searched mine with an intensity that would have made me step back if I could stand.
Ariel. The name bubbled up from the flood of memories. My maid. My protector. Lady Selene's spy.
My maid? What the actual fuck?
Another wave of pain crashed through my skull. Memories continued to pour in—devil society, family politics, shadow powers, Void Sight—each one feeling more real than the last. Dante's life. My life? Both?
The boundaries between who I was and who he was blurred.
I reached up, my hand trembling, and touched her cheek. Her skin burned hot against my palm.
"Am I in heaven?" My voice sounded strange—deeper, smoother, with a hint of an accent I hadn't had before.
Before she could answer, I pulled her down and pressed my lips against hers.
I just needed... something. Anything to ground me in this reality. To remind me I existed. That I wasn't still in that emptiness. That I hadn't been erased.
Her lips stiffened in shock, then softened. A small, surprised sound escaped her throat, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she melted into it, her hands bracing against my chest before sliding up to my shoulders.
"Young Master," she breathed against my mouth, pulling back just enough to speak. Her red eyes had darkened, pupils dilated. "When did you become so..."
I didn't let her finish. I kissed her again, harder this time, driven by hunger that went beyond physical desire. Something primal and desperate. She responded in kind, climbing onto the bed, straddling me without breaking the connection.
Heat radiated from her body as she pressed against me. Her hands tangled in my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp. The pain in my head receded slightly, replaced by a different kind of pressure.
"Your eyes," she whispered, pulling back to stare at me. "They're..."
I flipped our positions in one smooth motion, pinning her beneath me.
When I looked down at her, something strange happened. I could see... everything. The flow of magic through her body. The fire affinity burning brightest in her core. The wind magic swirling around it. The way her energy responded to mine.
And with it came hunger. Not sexual, though that was there too. Something deeper. More fundamental. The need to take, to absorb, to make her power mine.
Essence Drain.
I pressed my mouth to hers again, and this time I felt it—energy flowing from her into me. Warm and vibrant, tasting of cinnamon and ozone. The pain in my head subsided with each passing second, replaced by clarity and strength.
Ariel whimpered beneath me, her back arching, fingers clutching at my shoulders. Not in pain—in pleasure. Her breathing grew heavy, labored. Her magic surged and pulsed, flowing into me in rhythmic waves.
The haze surrounding my thoughts cleared. Memories settled into place, no longer fighting for dominance but integrating, becoming a cohesive whole. I was Elijah, street-smart fighter who'd clawed his way up from nothing. I was Dante, devil nobility with shadow powers and a legacy to uphold.
I was both. I was more.
I jerked upright, breaking the connection. Ariel lay beneath me, hair splayed across the pillows, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. Her lips were swollen from our kisses, a flush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck.
"Young—Young Master," she gasped, struggling to compose herself. "What... what was that?"
I stared at my hands. They looked the same—Dante's hands—but they felt different. Stronger. More connected to the magic flowing through this body. I could feel the shadows in the room responding to my presence, stretching toward me like eager pets.
"I don't know," I lied, moving off her to sit on the edge of the bed. "I just... needed something to stop the pain."
She sat up slowly, smoothing down her rumpled uniform. Her movements were unsteady, almost drunk. I'd taken a significant amount of her energy—not enough to harm her, but enough that she'd need time to recover.
"You've been unconscious for three days," she said, professional mask slipping back into place despite her disheveled appearance. "Lady Selene has been beside herself with worry. The healers couldn't determine what was wrong."
Three days. The time it took for my soul to fully integrate with Dante's body. For our memories to merge.
"I had... dreams," I said carefully. "Strange ones."
Ariel nodded, though her eyes remained fixed on me with unusual intensity. "Your mother suspected something like that. She said sometimes the Void Sight manifests fully during adolescence through... visions."
Convenient explanation. I'd take it.
"What happened before I passed out?" I asked, testing how much I needed to pretend.
"You were practicing shadow manipulation in the training grounds. You attempted a new technique, then collapsed without warning." She hesitated. "Your father said you were pushing beyond your limits again."
Memories of that day surfaced—Dante's memories. He'd been trying to create a shadow domain, a space entirely under his control. It had required immense concentration, drawing on his connection to the void. Perhaps that connection had created the bridge for my soul to cross.
"Did I succeed?" I asked, genuinely curious.
A small smile touched her lips. "For about three seconds. Then you fell face-first into the dirt."
I snorted. "Graceful as always."
Her eyes widened slightly at my informal tone. Dante would have responded with something more measured, maintaining his carefully constructed image. Another adjustment I'd need to make.
"I should inform Lady Selene that you're awake," Ariel said, rising from the bed. She swayed slightly, one hand reaching out to steady herself against the bedpost.
"Are you alright?" I asked, though I knew exactly what was wrong. I'd fed on her energy—my first use of Essence Drain.
"Just... lightheaded. It's been a stressful few days watching over you."
I nodded, not pushing the issue. "Tell my mother I'll see her soon. I need a few minutes."
"Of course, Young Master." She bowed slightly, then hesitated. "About what just happened—"
"Let's discuss it later," I interrupted. "When we're both thinking more clearly."
Relief and something else—disappointment?—flickered across her face. "As you wish."
She left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. The moment she was gone, I stood and moved to the full-length mirror on the wall.
The face that looked back was familiar yet foreign. Black hair, styled in a way that appeared carelessly tousled but was actually quite deliberate. Sharp, aristocratic features. Flawless skin. And those eyes—vibrant purple, now returned to normal after the Void Sight had faded.
I was looking at Dante Valac, heir to House Valac, devil nobility.
I was looking at myself.
"Well, fuck me," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "This is going to be interesting."
I turned away from the mirror and surveyed the room. Spacious, luxuriously appointed with furniture that probably cost more than my entire apartment building back in my previous life. A massive four-poster bed. Bookshelves filled with ancient tomes. A desk covered in papers.
I walked to the window and looked out at the Underworld landscape. The Valac estate sprawled across manicured grounds, shadows dancing between carefully cultivated gardens. Beyond that, I could see the spires of the devil city in the distance, glittering with magical light.
A far cry from the grimy streets I'd died on.
I flexed my hand, calling on the shadows in the corner of the room. They responded eagerly, rushing toward me like loyal dogs, coalescing into a solid shape in my palm. I twisted my wrist, and the shadow twisted with it, forming a perfect replica of the knife that had killed me.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
I dismissed the shadow construct and sat at Dante's desk, rifling through his notes. Political alliances. Family histories. Potential rivals. The boy had been playing a long game, building connections while maintaining his facade of disinterest. Smart kid.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
"Enter," I called, straightening the papers.
The door opened to reveal a tall, elegant woman with waist-length silver hair and striking amethyst eyes—the same shade as mine. Lady Selene Valac. My mother. No—Dante's mother. Our mother?
She crossed the room in quick strides and placed a cool hand against my forehead.
"Your fever has broken," she said, relief evident in her voice. "How do you feel?"
I considered lying, then thought better of it. This woman had the same Void Sight ability I now possessed. She'd see through deception.
"Different," I admitted. "Like something fundamental has changed."
She studied me, her gaze penetrating in a way that made me wonder if she could see the truth—that her son was now sharing his body with a transmigrated soul.
"The Void touches us all differently," she said finally. "Sometimes it leaves marks that never fade."
"Is that what happened? I touched the Void?"
She sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her gown. "You attempted a technique beyond your current capabilities. The Void responded... unusually."
I noted her careful phrasing. "Unusually how?"
"Your eyes displayed the three circles for the entire three days you were unconscious. Your shadow expanded and contracted with your breathing." She paused. "And you spoke in your sleep—in a language I've never heard you use before."
English, probably. My native tongue from my previous life.
"I don't remember," I lied.
She nodded, accepting this. "Memory loss is common with such experiences. What matters is that you've returned to us." She took my hand. "Your father will want to see you."
I suppressed a grimace. Lord Alexius Valac—cold, formal, eternally disappointed in his son's apparent lack of ambition.
"I'll see him when I'm ready," I said, more firmly than Dante would have.
Selene's eyebrows rose slightly, but she didn't comment on my tone. "As you wish. Rest today. Tomorrow we can discuss what happened in more detail."
She rose to leave, then hesitated. "Dante... Ariel seemed... disoriented when she came to inform me you were awake. Is everything alright?"
Sharp woman. Nothing escaped her notice.
"I was disoriented when I woke up," I said, which wasn't a lie. "She helped ground me. It may have taken some of her energy."
Understanding dawned in Selene's eyes. "I see. Essence Drain."
"It wasn't intentional," I said quickly.
"They rarely are, at first." Her expression softened. "We'll need to discuss that as well. It's an ability that requires... discretion."
I nodded. "I understand."
After she left, I returned to the window, watching shadows lengthen across the grounds as evening approached. The pain in my head had subsided completely, replaced by a strange sense of clarity. Power hummed beneath my skin—my own, and a small portion of Ariel's, now integrated into my essence.
I wasn't Elijah anymore. I wasn't just Dante either.
I was something new. Something with Elijah's street smarts and survival instincts, combined with Dante's magical abilities and noble education. Something with the potential to be far more dangerous than either of us had been separately.
The 72 Pillars had no idea what was coming.
I grinned at my reflection in the darkening glass.
Time to raise some hell.