Mireya's POV
The angel's sword comes down toward my head.
I can't move. Can't breathe. The blade burns so bright it hurts to look at.
Then Azraeth's shadows slam into me, knocking me aside. The sword misses by inches, hitting the floor where I just stood. The stone explodes.
"Run!" Azraeth roars.
But I can't. My legs won't work. I'm frozen, staring at the angel hovering above us. She's beautiful in a terrifying way—perfect face, white wings, golden armor that glows like the sun. But her eyes are filled with pure hatred.
"Seraphina," Azraeth growls. "Still playing executioner for your precious angels?"
"Still corrupting innocent souls, demon?" She pulls her sword from the floor and points it at me. "This one is marked. You've doomed her just like you doomed Morwenna."
Through the bond, I feel Azraeth's rage explode. His shadows go wild, smashing through walls and ceiling. "Don't you dare speak her name!"
"Why not?" Seraphina smiles cruelly. "I'm the one who killed her. Just like I'll kill this girl."
She moves faster than my eyes can follow. One second she's in the air. The next, she's right in front of me, sword aimed at my heart.
Time slows down.
I see the blade coming. See death reflected in its burning light.
Then something inside me breaks.
Power erupts from my chest—from the soul mark. Black fire explodes outward, hitting Seraphina and throwing her back. She crashes through the wall into the library above.
I stare at my hands. They're glowing with dark energy I don't understand. The fire didn't burn me. It felt... natural. Like it was always inside me, waiting.
"Impossible," Azraeth whispers behind me. "Your power shouldn't awaken this fast."
Before I can answer, more angels drop through the ceiling. Five of them, all in golden armor, all with glowing weapons.
"Capture the demon!" one shouts. "Kill the marked human!"
Azraeth grabs my wrist. "Hold on."
The world dissolves into shadows. My stomach flips. Everything goes dark and cold. I feel like I'm being pulled through ice water.
Then we slam into solid ground.
I fall to my knees, gagging. Azraeth staggers beside me, breathing hard. Through the bond, I feel his exhaustion. The teleportation drained him.
"Where are we?" I gasp.
"Safe house. Under the city." He leans against a stone wall, his face pale. "The angels can't track us here."
I look around. We're in some kind of underground room with ancient symbols carved into the walls. No windows. One door. Candles light themselves as we enter, revealing a space that feels heavy with old magic.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
He laughs bitterly. "Am I okay? I'm dying, little librarian. Have been for five hundred years." He slides down the wall to sit on the floor. "The curse is eating me alive. Every day without my bonded soul, I get weaker."
"But I'm here now. I'm your bonded soul, right? The mark—"
"The mark is only the first step." He touches his chest where the symbol glows. "It's not complete. We need to do the full bonding ritual. Until then, I'm still cursed. Still dying."
Fear shoots through me. If he dies, I die. The bond makes sure of that.
"Then let's do the ritual now," I say.
"It's not that simple." His golden eyes lock onto mine. "The ritual requires trust. Vulnerability. You have to willingly open your soul to me completely. And right now, you're terrified of me."
He's right. I am terrified. This demon I summoned an hour ago wants access to my soul. Everything logical says this is insane.
But the angels want me dead. Kieran wants to capture me. And I have nowhere else to go.
"How long do you have?" I whisper. "Without the ritual, how long before the curse kills you?"
"Months. Maybe weeks." He closes his eyes. "And when I die, you die with me. So really, little librarian, you don't have a choice."
Anger flares in my chest. "There's always a choice."
"Then choose quickly." He opens his eyes, and I see something in them I didn't expect—fear. "Because those angels won't stop hunting us. Seraphina especially. She killed my first bonded soul five hundred years ago. She'll do everything to kill you too."
My hands shake. "Why? Why does she hate you so much?"
"Because Morwenna chose me over her." His voice goes quiet. "Seraphina loved her. When Morwenna bonded with me instead, it drove her mad. She convinced the other angels that we were a threat. That demons and humans bonding would destroy their precious order." He looks at me with those ancient, tired eyes. "She butchered Morwenna in front of me. Made me watch. Then trapped me in a prison dimension where I was tortured every day for five hundred years."
Through the bond, I feel his pain. It's so deep, so overwhelming, I almost cry.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"Don't be sorry. Be smart." He stands up, using the wall for support. "Help me break this curse. Complete the bond with me. In return, I'll teach you to use your demon magic. I'll help you get revenge on everyone who hurt you. And I'll protect you from the angels."
I think about Kieran's smug face. My mother choosing Celeste over me. The university firing me. Everyone who made me feel worthless and small.
"What do I have to do?" I ask.
A small smile crosses his face. "First, we need to figure out why your power awakened so violently. Demon-bonded bloodlines don't usually explode with magic their first day."
He reaches for the necklace I'm wearing—the silver one my mother gave me when I was a baby. I never take it off.
"Wait—" I start to say.
But he's already touching it. His eyes widen. "This is a binding charm. Very powerful. Someone locked your magic away." Before I can stop him, he rips the necklace off my neck.
Pain explodes through my entire body.
Then pleasure. Raw, wild, intoxicating pleasure.
Power floods my veins like liquid fire. The room's shadows rush toward me like they're alive. The candles flare bright, then turn black. My reflection in a broken mirror shows my eyes have changed—no longer brown, but black with silver stars.
"What's happening to me?" I gasp.
"You're awakening." Azraeth watches with intense focus. "Your magic was suppressed your whole life. Someone didn't want you to know what you really are."
"What am I?"
He smiles, and it's not friendly. "Powerful. More powerful than any demon-bonded witch I've ever seen. Which means someone was very afraid of you."
The power keeps building. I can't control it. Shadows pour from my hands. The stone walls crack.
"Make it stop!" I scream.
"I can't. You have to control it yourself."
"I don't know how!"
The power surges again. This time, something rips through the skin on my back. I scream as wings—actual demon wings—tear out of my shoulder blades. Black feathers and bone, just like Azraeth's but smaller.
I fall to my knees, crying from the pain.
Azraeth kneels beside me, his hand on my shoulder. Through the bond, I feel his concern mixing with satisfaction.
"Breathe," he says softly. "The wings will hurt at first. But they're part of you now. Part of what you're becoming."
"What am I becoming?" I sob.
He tilts my chin up so I'm looking into his eyes. "Something the angels will fear. Something strong enough to stand beside a Demon King."
Before I can respond, the door to our safe house explodes inward.
A woman stands in the doorway. She's beautiful in a dangerous way—dark hair, red lips, and eyes that glow purple with magic. She wears black and radiates power.
"Well, well," she purrs. "The Demon King and his new little pet. How adorable."
Azraeth moves in front of me instantly. "Lilith."
"Hello, darling." The woman—Lilith—smiles like a cat. "Did you really think you could hide from me? I've been tracking demon-bonded bloodlines for decades." Her eyes lock onto me. "And this one... oh, this one is special."
She raises her hand. Purple magic crackles around her fingers.
"She's coming with me."