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“I see the way you look when you say Rheon’s name. That fire. That ache.” Her voice dropped. “Don’t lose him like I lost your father.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks again.
“He deserves better,” I whispered.
“He deservesyou,” she said. “And you deserve the truth.”
I stood there, caught in the grief of a mother I never knew and a love I was terrified to lose. And in that moment, I didn’t feel like a demon. Or an angel.
I felt like a girl who just wanted to be held by someone who understood the war inside her.
And for the first time… I let the Queen pull me into her arms.
Not as a ruler.
But as a mother.
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The throne room wasn’t made for mortals.
The walls pulsed with dark energy, alive with the echo of a thousand ancient oaths. Obsidian columns carved withdemon tongues reached to a ceiling lost in shadow, and at the center of it all — he sat.
The Demon King.
His smile was carved from cruelty, his eyes burning like dying stars. And when I entered, he didn’t rise. He simply watched, as if he had always known I would come.
“So,” he said, voice echoing like a blade drawn slow. “My daughter of two worlds.”
“I’m not your daughter,” I said evenly, stepping forward. “But I am here.”
He tilted his head, amused.
“Bravery. You wear it well.”
“I’m not here for flattery,” I snapped. “You want me to be your weapon. Fine.”
He leaned forward now, the firelight dancing across the bone-like ridges of his throne.
“Just like that? You’ll serve?”
“I’ll fight,” I corrected. “But only underonecondition.”
A beat of silence. Then:
“Name it.”
“You will save Rheon,” I said. “You will break the curse you put on him.”
A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face.
“Ah. My son.”
“You made him into a monster,” I said. “You forced him to wander this world alone. You don’t deserve him, but he deserves peace.”
The Demon King’s smile curved slow.
“And if I agree?”
