Shadows of Deception

Evelyne stormed through the palace corridors, her mind racing.

Vael's words echoed in her head—warnings of betrayal, of war, of a rebellion that wasn't truly over. She didn't trust him, but she also couldn't ignore him.

Who was he?

And why had he chosen to warn her?

The torches lining the walls flickered as she walked, casting long, shifting shadows. The fortress was eerily quiet at this hour, the usual demonic activity subdued under the weight of the late night.

She reached the throne room and hesitated.

Azrael was inside.

She could feel it.

Taking a steadying breath, she pushed the massive doors open.

Azrael sat on his obsidian throne, draped in black and gold, his golden eyes gleaming even in the dim light. He didn't look surprised to see her.

He was waiting.

"You're awake," he said smoothly.

Evelyne stepped forward, pulse still unsteady. "A demon broke into my chambers."

Azrael's gaze sharpened instantly. "Vael."

She clenched her fists. "You knew."

He exhaled slowly, leaning back in his throne. "Yes."

Her jaw tensed. "And you did nothing?"

Azrael's expression didn't change, but something unreadable flickered in his eyes. "Vael is... complicated."

Evelyne didn't care for riddles. "He said the rebellion isn't over. That there are those who still want me dead."

Azrael's silence was an answer in itself.

Her chest tightened. "You knew about this too, didn't you?"

His golden eyes met hers, calm yet filled with an edge of something darker. "There are always those who oppose change."

Evelyne took a step closer, her voice lowering. "And how many of them are inside this palace?"

Azrael regarded her for a long moment. "More than I'd like."

A chill ran down her spine.

She had expected enemies. She hadn't expected them to be this close.

Azrael rose from his throne, his presence overwhelming even in stillness. "I will handle them."

Evelyne didn't doubt his strength. But raw power wouldn't stop a knife in the dark.

"I want to know everything," she said, standing her ground.

Azrael arched a brow. "Do you?"

She swallowed. "Yes."

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "Then follow me."

Azrael led her through the fortress, deeper than she had ever gone before.

The hallways twisted into darkness, the air growing colder, heavier. Torches burned with blue flames, casting eerie light over the obsidian walls.

Evelyne's footsteps echoed against the stone, her pulse quickening. She didn't like this place.

"What is this?" she asked.

Azrael didn't stop walking. "The Chamber of Secrets."

She frowned. "That sounds ominous."

He chuckled. "Because it is."

Finally, they reached a set of enormous doors, carved with ancient demonic symbols.

Azrael placed a hand against them, murmuring something in the old tongue. The doors groaned open.

Beyond them was a massive, circular chamber lined with shelves—filled with scrolls, tomes, and floating crystals pulsating with dark energy.

Evelyne stepped inside cautiously.

"This is where I keep records of every rebellion, every betrayal, every whisper of treason," Azrael said, his voice calm. "If you wish to understand your enemies, this is where you start."

Evelyne walked past the shelves, eyes scanning the rows of ancient knowledge.

Something caught her attention.

A crystal, glowing faintly, resting atop a pedestal.

She reached for it.

Azrael's voice was sharp. "Don't."

She froze.

Azrael stepped beside her, his expression unreadable. "That one holds memories of the last human queen who stood in this palace."

Evelyne's breath hitched.

The last human queen?

She turned to him slowly. "What happened to her?"

Azrael's gaze darkened. "She made the wrong choice."

Evelyne swallowed. She could hear the warning in his words.

But the temptation burned inside her.

Did she really want to know?

Her fingers hovered over the crystal.

Azrael watched her carefully.

And for a moment, the silence between them felt like the weight of history itself.