Marked by hell

Serenya didn't sleep anymore.

Not really.

The dreams weren't dreams—they were memories. Memories she never asked for, replayed with cruel clarity.

The noose.

The cold betrayal.

The look in the Crown Prince's eyes when he said, "You were never supposed to fight back."

She always woke up with blood in her mouth.

---

They camped in the ruins of an old cathedral that night.

Veylan was sharpening stolen blades. Still quiet. Always watching.

Serenya sat with her back to the wall, cloak wrapped tight. Fire casting shadows on her face.

"You're thinking too loud," Veylan muttered.

"I always do before something breaks."

He looked at her. "Us or them?"

"That's the fun part. I never know."

---

Then the air changed.

A chill swept in, unnatural and sudden.

The fire flickered. The shadows moved wrong.

"He's here," Serenya whispered.

Before Veylan could ask who, the far wall crumbled....not from impact, but like it bent itself out of the way for something older than rules.

Smoke slithered in.

Footsteps echoed like judgment.

And from the dark came him.

Azrael. Demon King. Lord of Ruin.

---

He didn't speak at first.

Didn't need to.

Veylan stood, knives in hand, teeth bared. The chains on his wrists glowed red from Hell's heat reacting to its maker.

Azrael ignored him.

His eyes were locked on her.

On Serenya.

"You're bleeding divine magic," he said.

She stood slowly. "Killed a Herald. Thought you'd be proud."

"Pride is for mortals." A beat. "But I'm impressed."

His gaze dragged over her...sword, sigil, scars.

"You're becoming what I carved you to be."

---

She didn't flinch.

But her voice cracked....barely.

"Tell me something, Azrael."

"Hmm?"

"Did you know what would happen when I signed that contract?"

"Which part?"

"That I'd fall. That I'd remember dying. That I'd burn the world to survive."

He stepped closer.

"You were already burning when I found you."

---

Their faces were inches apart now. Her hands trembled....not with fear. With fury.

"You're using me."

"Of course."

"Then why do you look at me like that?"

That stopped him.

For one second, the mask slipped.

Azrael didn't answer with words. He raised his hand slowly.....then curled it into a fist just before touching her cheek.

"Because I remember what you looked like," he said, voice like a knife dragged across silk.

"Right before they killed you."

"I watched. I couldn't stop it."

---

Serenya stepped back.

"Don't do that," she said.

"Do what?"

"Pretend you care."

He turned.

"I don't."

And vanished into shadow.

But he lied.

Because the smoke he left behind smelled like grief.