Shadows in the Dark

Evelyne's breath came in ragged gasps as she clutched the silk sheets of her bed. The remnants of the dream still clung to her, the phantom heat of the flames prickling her skin. But it was more than just a dream. She knew it.

Someone—something—had reached into her mind, had spoken to her.

And they wanted her dead.

Her pulse hammered as she forced herself to sit up. The room was silent, but a strange heaviness lingered in the air. Her instincts screamed that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, she scanned the shadows.

Then—

A flicker of movement near the window.

Evelyne's breath hitched. "Who's there?"

Silence.

Then, as if the darkness itself had peeled away, a figure stepped forward.

A man, cloaked in black. His face was concealed by a mask, but his piercing silver eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.

Evelyne's blood ran cold.

An assassin.

She barely had time to react before he lunged.

Evelyne rolled off the bed just as a dagger buried itself into the mattress where she had been lying moments before. She scrambled backward, her mind racing.

"Help—" she started, but the man moved too quickly.

A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

"You should not be here, Princess," the assassin murmured, his voice disturbingly calm. "You are a stain upon the Demon King's reign."

Evelyne struggled, but he was far stronger. He pressed her against the wall, his dagger glinting in the moonlight.

"Azrael may have spared you, but there are those who know better," the assassin continued. "This realm is not for humans. You—"

A sudden rush of energy exploded through the room.

The next second, the assassin was gone.

Not dead. Not struck down.

Simply—gone.

Evelyne collapsed to the floor, gasping.

Then, a deep, familiar voice shattered the silence.

"You were attacked."

Azrael.

She looked up to see the Demon King standing in the doorway, golden eyes burning with fury.

Azrael's cloak billowed as he stepped toward her, his presence filling the entire room. The air hummed with restrained power.

Evelyne forced herself to steady her breathing. "There was a man," she whispered. "A demon, I think. He—he tried to kill me."

Azrael's eyes darkened. "Did he say anything?"

Her throat was dry. "He said I don't belong here. That I am a stain upon your reign."

A muscle in Azrael's jaw twitched. For a brief moment, she saw something dangerous flicker behind his eyes.

He turned sharply. "Lyria."

The demon woman appeared almost instantly. Evelyne didn't even hear her enter.

"My lord."

"Double the guards," Azrael ordered, his voice cold. "No one enters or leaves this fortress without my command. I want the assassin found."

Lyria bowed. "As you command." Then, she glanced at Evelyne, something unreadable in her violet gaze.

When she left, Azrael turned back to Evelyne.

"You're shaking."

She hadn't noticed.

Evelyne wrapped her arms around herself, willing the trembling to stop. "I'm fine."

Azrael didn't look convinced.

"Come with me," he said.

She blinked. "Where?"

Azrael extended his hand. "Somewhere safer."

She hesitated, but then she remembered the feeling of the assassin's dagger slicing through the air. The suffocating weight of his hand over her mouth.

She swallowed.

And took Azrael's hand.

Azrael led her through the winding halls of the fortress, deeper than she had ever been. The torches here burned with a strange, bluish-green flame, casting eerie shadows along the walls.

They finally stopped in front of a massive set of doors adorned with intricate carvings. Azrael placed a hand on them, and the runes shimmered before the doors swung open.

The chamber beyond was unlike anything Evelyne had ever seen.

Dark marble floors stretched across the room, reflecting the dim light of floating lanterns. Towering bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tomes bound in leather and metal. At the center of the room, a massive obsidian table stood, strange symbols etched into its surface.

"What is this place?" she whispered.

Azrael closed the doors behind them. "My sanctum. No one enters here unless I allow it."

Evelyne turned to face him. "Why bring me here?"

Azrael studied her for a long moment. "Because someone in this palace wants you dead."

A chill crawled up her spine.

"And you think they'll come after me again?"

Azrael's expression was unreadable. "They will."

Evelyne exhaled shakily. She had known she would never be fully welcomed here, but she hadn't expected assassination attempts.

She lifted her gaze to Azrael. "You're certain it was someone inside?"

"Yes." His tone left no room for doubt. "No outsider could breach my walls. This was orchestrated from within."

Evelyne's stomach tightened.

That meant one thing.

Her enemy was close.

Azrael's gaze remained locked on her. "From now on, you will not walk alone."

Evelyne frowned. "So I'm a prisoner?"

"No," he said. "You are a queen under my protection."

Something about the way he said it made her heart skip a beat.

She crossed her arms. "And if I refuse?"

Azrael's lips curled slightly. "You won't."

Damn him.

He was right, of course. She couldn't afford to be reckless.

Still—

Evelyne tilted her head. "You care if I die."

Azrael arched a brow. "You're my wife. Your death would be an inconvenience."

She narrowed her eyes. "Liar."

He smirked but said nothing.

She exhaled, her mind still spinning. Someone wanted her gone. But who? And why now?

She glanced at Azrael. "If I'm being targeted, then that means there are those who oppose this marriage."

Azrael nodded. "Yes. And they may not stop at just one attempt."

Evelyne clenched her fists. "Then I need to know who they are."

Azrael watched her carefully. "And what will you do once you find them?"

She met his gaze. "Survive."

Something in his golden eyes flickered—approval, perhaps?

Azrael stepped closer, his presence an overwhelming force.

"You are not weak, Evelyne," he murmured. "But you are not invincible either."

Her pulse quickened.

"I never claimed to be."

Azrael studied her for a moment longer before turning away. "Rest. We will begin tomorrow."

"Begin what?"

Azrael glanced over his shoulder.

"Preparing you to fight."

Evelyne lay awake long after Azrael had left.

She replayed everything in her mind—the dream, the assassin, the way Azrael had shielded her with his presence alone.

She had been thrown into a world of demons and danger. And now, she had no choice but to fight for her place.

Slowly, she closed her eyes.

Tomorrow, she would no longer be just a human princess trapped in the Underworld.

Tomorrow, she would start becoming something more.

Something dangerous.

Something worthy of standing beside the Demon King.