The Queen reached for me again — and I let her. Her hand was cold. Familiar.
“You have always been ours,” she whispered. “Even when you didn’t know it.”
And I realized, standing in the throne hall of a world I was raised to fear—
I had never felt more seen.
And never more afraid of what that meant.
Seori
The cost of salvation
I stood at the base of the obsidian throne, my hands clenched at my sides, my breathing uneven as the Demon King descended the black steps — each footfall a reminder of just how trapped I truly was.
“I know what you want,” he said, voice like molten iron. “You came to save him.”
Rheon.
I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. My throat was tight with unshed emotion. With fear. With fury.
“I can give you what you seek,” the King said, pacing slowly around me, like a wolf circling its prey. “Thecurse. The one I placed on my son... it can be undone. I will show you how.”
I turned to face him, heart hammering.
“What do you want in return?”
He smiled — and the room chilled.
“I want you,” he said. “Not in flesh, but in fire. In blood. You are the child of a Queen… and of an Archangel. Heaven’s light and Hell’s shadow both run in your veins. You are the only one who can bridge the realms. The only one who can crown me ruler of not just the Underworld... but the Heavens as well.”
“No,” I breathed. “No, I’m not—”
“You are,” the Queen’s voice echoed behind me. “You are our daughter. Heaven may have cast me out, but you—Seori—you are the key.”
“No!” I cried, stumbling backward. “I won’t be used. I won’t—”
“Then let him die,” the King snapped, eyes blazing. “Let Rheon rot under a curse that only I can lift.”
His words hit harder than any blade. I stared at him, the weight of a hundred truths crashing down.
I turned and ran.
Down marble corridors, through towering halls carved in flame and bone. I didn’t stop until I collapsed in the garden of thorns — knees hitting the ground, gown billowing around me like spilled blood.
Tears slipped free, blurring my vision.
What was I?
Who was I?
I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the burn of the bond.
“If saving you means becoming like them…” I whispered, voice cracking, “then what choice do I have?”
But the wind carried no answer.
Only silence. And the weight of fate closing in.
