The Devil At The Door

Seraphina stared at him.

Lucian Draegon.

At her door.

At midnight.

She didn't move, didn't speak not because she was scared. Not exactly. But because the air between them had changed. Grown heavier. Like even the oxygen had learned to hold its breath around this man.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked coolly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he already knew the answer.

She tugged her robe tighter around herself. "Yes."

He smiled, but it wasn't warm. It was the kind of smile people made when they had a knife hidden behind their back.

"I need a word," he said, stepping past her before she could invite him in.

Typical.

She shut the door with a sigh and turned to face him. He was standing by her window now, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the moon outside. There was something ancient about him. Something too calm. Like a man who had seen too much and cared too little.

"You have a habit of turning up uninvited," she said, walking past him to lean against the wall opposite.

"And you have a habit of finding trouble," he countered smoothly. "The west wing?"

"You heard?"

"I hear everything, Miss Caldwell."

There was a beat of silence. Then she tilted her head, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You came all the way here just to scold me?"

He turned, slowly. His eyes—those unnatural silver irises—glowed faintly in the dark.

"No," he said. "I came to warn you."

She laughed, dry and low. "Why does everyone here think I need protecting?"

Lucian crossed the room in three slow steps, stopping right in front of her. Not touching, not speaking but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Because you don't understand what's waking up inside you," he said quietly.

Her mouth went dry.

"What are you talking about?"

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was too soft, too intimate, and her whole body tensed.

"I can feel it," he whispered. "Every time you enter a room, the wards flicker. The walls hum. This academy is alive, Seraphina. And it's reacting to you."

"Why?"

"Because you don't belong here. Not just because you're human or at least, you think you are." His voice dropped lower. "There's something sleeping inside you. And I'm not the only one who's noticed."

She didn't dare breathe.

"I've seen girls like you before," he murmured. "Power like this always draws attention."

He leaned in, lips just a breath away from her ear.

"And predators."

A shiver danced down her spine.

She pushed past him before her thoughts could spiral too far into places she wasn't ready to explore.

"You're trying to scare me," she said, forcing her voice to sound bored. "It's not working."

"No," he said, watching her closely. "I think you like it."

God help her, maybe she did.

Because for a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to let herself fall into that darkness. To let go of the fight. To give in.

To him.

"Go," she said, voice a whisper. "Or stay, but either way—stop playing games."

Lucian smiled again, this time sharper.

"No games," he said. "Only warnings. But I'll leave you with this…"

He reached for her hand and turned it palm-up, tracing his finger along the faint lines of her skin.

"You're not here by accident. And if you want to survive this place, you'll have to stop pretending you're just some lost girl. You're something more."

He let her hand go and headed for the door.

"And eventually," he added, "you'll have to choose who you trust."

With that, he disappeared into the hall, leaving Seraphina's heart pounding, her skin tingling, and her mind racing.

The next morning, she woke late and skipped breakfast.

She wasn't in the mood to face any of them Damian, Jasper, Lucian. All of them seemed to know more about her than she did, and the weight of those secrets was starting to crush her. She needed space. Air.

She wandered out to the back gardens, where students rarely lingered. The statues there were old and crumbling, covered in ivy and half-forgotten names. It felt like the only place at Eryndale that didn't expect something from her.

Of course, she wasn't alone.

Because why would the universe let her breathe for even five seconds?

Jasper Hale was sprawled on a bench, shirt sleeves rolled, a leather-bound book in his lap and a lollipop in his mouth.

"Wow," she said dryly. "Reading. I didn't know you could."

He didn't look up. "Come to mock or come to moan?"

She sat beside him without asking, their shoulders brushing.

"Neither. Just hiding."

He glanced at her sideways. "From Blackwood or Draegon?"

"Both."

"And me?"

She smirked. "You're the least of my problems."

"Ouch," he said, but he was grinning.

A breeze blew through the garden, carrying petals across their laps. For a moment, it was quiet. Almost peaceful.

Then he said, "You want to know what I think?"

"No, but you're going to tell me anyway."

He leaned in, slow, like a cat toying with a bird.

"I think you like being chased. I think you want all of us circling around you, fighting for a bite."

She turned to him, eyes narrowed. "And if I do?"

He laughed, low and rich. "Then I'd say I'm winning."

His lips brushed her cheek just barely. A touch so feather-light it shouldn't have made her gasp.

But it did.

He pulled back with a smug smile. "Careful, Caldwell. Keep looking at me like that, and I'll make you forget those other bastards even exist."

She rolled her eyes and stood, heart racing. "I'd like to see you try."

He grinned like a devil. "Don't tempt me, sweetheart. You won't survive it."

That night, Seraphina stood in front of her mirror.

Her robe slid off her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She stared at herself at the faint glow beneath her skin, at the shadow of something ancient moving in her eyes.

She wasn't just a girl anymore.

Something else was waking up inside her.

And it didn't want to hide anymore.