The Demon Dinner Disaster

Talia had survived haunted bathtubs, sarcastic ravens, mirror messages, and near-death breakfast toast.

She thought maybe—just maybe—she was finally adjusting to life in the Shadow Realm.

That thought lasted three minutes.

Because now she was sitting in a velvet chair, wearing a black gown she didn't remember putting on, about to have dinner with Lucien Nightshade's demon family.

Across the enormous obsidian dining table sat:

Prince Vael, Lucien's cold, older brother with zero humor and probably a hobby of poisoning people,

Duchess Morwenna, Lucien's aunt, who wore seven rings and smelled like ancient perfume and judgment,

And Grandfather Zareth, who was mostly mist and glowing eyes, sipping something from a goblet labeled "Not Blood (Mostly)".

Lucien sat beside her, silent and tense.

The air crackled with restrained magic—and the smell of roasted shadowbeast.

Talia poked her fork into what looked like a living mushroom that blinked at her.

"Tell me, dear," Morwenna purred. "What… species are you again?"

"Uh… Human?" Talia said.

Zareth coughed mist. "Still using lungs, I see. Classic."

Vael leaned in. "So, this is the mortal you accidentally bound your soul to?"

Lucien's jaw tightened. "The contract is active. We're dealing with it."

Talia forced a smile. "Hi. I'm Talia. I drink coffee, binge mystery novels, and recently married a demon prince by accident."

The mushroom on her plate blinked again.

She stabbed it.

Demon dinners, it turned out, weren't just awkward—they were magical interrogations.

As soon as Talia drank from the enchanted wine glass, it glowed red.

Morwenna grinned. "Answer honestly, darling. You have to. Curse rules."

Talia choked on her sip. "Excuse me?!"

Zareth raised his goblet. "Let the first question begin!"

Morwenna asked sweetly, "Do you love Lucien?"

Talia turned bright red. The goblet flickered.

"NO!"

Everyone watched the cup.

It flickered again… and turned pink.

Talia gawked. "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!"

Lucien didn't meet her eyes.

Morwenna clapped her hands. "Oh my. That's embarrassing."

---

💥 Chaos at the Table

Before more questions could be asked, the floor shook.

The shadows twisted.

A giant rift tore open in the ceiling—followed by a swirling vortex of glitter and sparkles.

And then—

"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

A girl dropped from the sky and crashed directly onto the roasted shadowbeast.

Talia jumped up. "MIRA?!"

Covered in gravy and holding a half-melted crystal, her best friend grinned up from the table.

"Found you."

Lucien stood slowly. "You brought a mortal witch here?!"

"She brought herself!" Talia said.

Zareth floated up. "Ooooh! A guest who isn't cursed. Yet."

Mira scrambled up, shaking roast sauce off her coat. "What is this place?! Why is that candle growling? Is that bread… blinking?"

Talia ran to her and hugged her tightly.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"Yeah, well… You always said you wanted a dramatic marriage. I just didn't expect horns and haunted lasagna."

---

🕯️ Later That Night…

Lucien stood alone in the balcony hallway, overlooking the dark forest beyond the castle.

Talia approached, softly.

"You okay?" she asked.

He didn't turn around. "This realm wasn't built for mortals."

She walked beside him, looking up at the endless purple sky.

"You think I don't know that?"

Lucien finally faced her. "You're changing things here. The castle reacts to your presence. Even the ghosts have stopped screaming at 3am."

Talia smiled. "You're welcome."

He let out a small chuckle—rare and brief—but real.

Then he grew serious.

"You shouldn't stay here."

Her smile faded. "So you want to break the contract?"

Lucien's eyes met hers. For the first time, there was conflict there. Pain.

"I don't know what I want anymore."

---

💤 That Night… A Dream

Talia tossed in bed, sweating.

She dreamed of fire…

Of a golden crown breaking apart…

Of Lucien kneeling before her in chains, bleeding from the eyes.

> "You were the key," he whispered.

"You always were."

She woke up with a scream.

Outside, thunder cracked.

Inside her chest—

The glowing red thread binding her to Lucien pulsed.

Brighter than ever before.

It was barely morning in the Shadow Realm—though you could never tell from the eternal twilight sky—and chaos had already started brewing.

Mira, dressed in a cloak she "borrowed" from a passing ghost, wandered the castle with a floating lantern and a notebook titled Demon Husband Survival Guide.

"Don't touch glowing walls. Don't eat blinking food. And for heaven's sake, don't flirt with the gargoyles," she muttered, checking things off.

One gargoyle winked at her. She gagged.

---

👻 Meanwhile, in the West Wing…

Talia was pacing her room, replaying the dream from the night before.

Lucien… chained. Blood. Fire. Her name whispered like a final prayer.

And that glowing thread between their hearts—it hadn't just pulsed.

It had burned.

"I need answers," she murmured, gripping her pendant—the one her mother had given her before she left for university. It glowed faintly now, reacting to something ancient.

Before she could dive deeper, the castle bell rang.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Lucien's voice echoed from down the hall: "Talia. Mira. Get ready. You've been summoned."

Talia and Mira entered a towering chamber filled with shadowy nobles, cloaked figures, and the smell of candle smoke and danger.

Lucien stood at the center, tense, his crimson eyes unreadable.

Vael smirked from the shadows. "And here comes the chaos wrapped in mortal skin."

Morwenna whispered behind a fan, "She doesn't even bow…"

Zareth floated above them all, looking amused. "Let the council begin."

A robed scribe unrolled a cursed scroll.

> "The mortal girl, Talia Ravenwood, is now linked to the fate of the Shadow Realm through a blood-binding contract. Since her arrival, three new rifts have opened. The fire spirits stir. The Veil weakens."

Whispers echoed. Some eyes glowed.

> "There is talk of a prophecy."

Talia stepped forward. "What prophecy?"

A figure emerged from the mist—an old woman in white, covered in silver runes and carrying a staff made of bone.

The Oracle.

She looked straight into Talia's soul.

> "Long ago, it was foretold…

A child of two worlds—mortal and demon—shall awaken the Flame of Ruin.

If love binds them, kingdoms shall rise.

If hate tears them, the realms shall burn."

The room fell deathly silent.

Mira blinked. "Okay. So either you two save the universe… or destroy it."

Lucien's hands clenched.

Zareth declared, "The mortal cannot be left unguarded."

Vael sneered. "Or untested."

Before anyone could argue, a shadow beast was summoned from the depths—ten feet tall, made of smoke, fire, and screeching rage.

"Defeat the beast," Vael said coldly, "and prove you belong."

Talia took a step back. "Is this family dinner or Hunger Games?!"

Lucien stepped forward instantly. "She's not fighting."

"She must stand on her own," the Oracle said.

The beast lunged.

Mira screamed. Talia braced herself.

And just as its claw swiped toward her—her pendant exploded in light.

Golden fire shot from her hands, surrounding her like a shield.

The beast wailed and retreated.

Everyone stared.

Even Lucien.

Talia blinked. "Did… did I just do magic?!"

Zareth's voice echoed: "Not just magic, girl. You awakened a bloodline."

🌌 Later That Night…

Talia stood by the balcony, shaken.

Lucien joined her, quiet.

"You didn't tell me," she said softly. "About the prophecy."

"I didn't think it was real," he replied.

She looked at her hands. "What am I?"

Lucien turned to her, eyes burning softly. "You're the first person who's made this place feel… alive."

A beat passed.

Their hands brushed.

That red thread between them glowed again—hotter than ever.

Mira burst in. "Okay, not to interrupt whatever forbidden chemistry is going on—but I just found a secret tunnel behind your mirror that leads to a crypt with your name on the wall, Talia."

They both froze.

"What?" Talia whispered.

Mira held up her lantern. "Yeah… and it says 'Queen of Flame and Ruin.'"