LUCIAN'S POV
I saw him before I saw her.
Tall. Relaxed. Too damn comfortable around her.
He stood by the curb with one hand in his pocket and that smug little smile on his face.
"So, I'll see you on Friday, yeah?" he said.
Her voice came softer. "Yeah."
My jaw clenched. I didn't move. Just watched as she walked toward the main hallway where I stood, her steps careful and measured.
Then she saw me.
She stopped like she'd hit a wall, frozen mid-step. Those blue eyes went wide, locking onto mine.
I wasn't expecting to see her also. Not this frequently, anyway. I'd erased her memories of me from yesterday's incident in the parking lot when she caught me shifting between forms. It should've ended there.
But fate has a cruel sense of humor, doesn't it?
Now she's the class governor, and I see her more often than I should.
I don't know if I'd say I'm drawn to her. But something about her… pulls.
She's bold, daring-yet I can tell she can be submissive too.
Shock was clear on her face and I turned my gaze from the guy who just came with her to her face.
In the hallway's filtered light, I could see her perfectly. Full lips parted in surprise. Smooth skin that caught the afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows. Her brown hair fell in waves past her shoulders, catching highlights that seemed to shift with every slight movement. And those eyes, damn! those blue eyes, soft, stubborn, and honestly, the prettiest I'd seen in centuries of existence.
She was beautiful. Too beautiful.
And apparently beautiful enough to capture the attention of a demon who should know better.
"Running late, Miss Blackwood?" I asked.
"Needed air," she replied
I took a step closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume.
"I suppose I should clarify the expectations," I said, lowering my voice. "A course representative doesn't get to disappear. Especially when you have duties waiting. I'm still expecting my list."
It came out harsher than I intended. I wasn't angry. I just hated how aware I suddenly was of her
"I'm not your class governor," she shot back
Our eyes locked.
And for a brief second, mine dropped, her top shifted with her breath, revealing the delicate curve of her collarbone and the soft swell below.
My eyes snapped back up immediately.
Too close. Much too close.
I stepped back, putting necessary distance between.
What the hell was that?
I shouldn't have looked.
She's a student. My student.
Being this close to a student was dangerous.
Not just for her, for me. I needed to get a grip
"You're already late," I said, cooler now. "Go on."
She walked past. I could feel her smile as she walked past.
The scent of jasmine and citrus lingered behind her. I stood there breathing it in longer than necessary before finally turning toward the east wing of campus.
Time to get back to work.
Not the mundane work of grading papers or delivering lectures. Not the careful performance of playing human professor. Real work. The kind that determined whether I'd spend eternity in paradise regained or fade into absolute nothingness.
I used to be a demon who specialized in temptation. I didn't drag souls to Hell, I whispered the right words at the right moments, offered perfect solutions to desperate problems, and let humans walk willingly into it.
But I broke the cardinal rule. I spared someone I wasn't supposed to spare.
Long story. One that earned me fifty thousand years of agony in the Pit.
Now this: my final trial. A hundred years on Earth, cursed with the full spectrum of human emotion, forced to live among the very people I once corrupted without a second thought.
And here I am, assigned to a university campus.
My task is to monitor demonic contracts made by others. Make sure desperate souls pay what they owe. And if I don't enforce a demonic contract, I feel intense pain, and lose time off my sentence.
If I complete this trial, I can earn my place back. Or… if I refuse, I vanish forever when the hundred years are done.
I can try to bend rules, delay judgment, or quietly warn potential victims before they sign their souls away, but not too obviously and not too often
Part of me wants the old job back. The power. The immortality.
But another part, that grows stronger every day I spend in this flesh—is tired. Tired of being who I am. Tired of corruption. Tired of destruction. Tired of being a demon.
My first day on campus, I sensed it. A fresh and reckless contract.
Some student made a deal recently. Young. Desperate. Predictable.
His name's Miles.
He sold his future for five years of absolute brilliance—charm, intelligence, top of every class.
Right now, he's living like a god among mortals, acing every test, charming everyone, winning every competition he enters.
But I've seen what comes after those five golden years.
I've watched the moment when the contract flips, when payment comes due, when borrowed glory transforms into eternal servitude. And thanks to these cursed human emotions flooding through me, I feel every second of their realization. Their terror. Their regret. Their absolute despair.
These emotions are foreign and uncomfortable. I hate them, but I can't ignore them anymore. The more time I spend walking among humans, breathing their air, sharing their spaces, the stronger those feelings become.
I was supposed to prepare Miles for what's coming. Guide him gently toward acceptance of his fate.
But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Instead, I chose silence. Chose to feel less pain in the short term, even knowing it would cost me later. And just maybe I could save others before they make the same mistake.
Because in this final stage of punishment, I do have some freedom. Not enough to walk away entirely, but enough to bend the rules when opportunities arise. And I bend them as often as I can manage.
Now I sense another one.
Someone nearby is wishing with the kind of intensity that attracts demonic attention. And that's how it always starts.
If I don't find him first, another demon will.
And another soul will fall.
I made my way through campus toward the library, then up the maintenance stairs to the rooftop. Students sometimes came here to escape, to think, to make terrible decisions in private. Near the far wall, I spotted a figure hunched in solitude.
A young man, sitting with his head in his hands.
When he noticed my approach, he straightened with reflexive shock, clearly not expecting company.
I raised my hand in what I hoped was a gesture of peace. The words "I mean no harm" would never pass my lips, but the sentiment could be conveyed.
"Good day, Dr. Lucian," he greeted me, voice barely above a whisper. His brown hair shifted as the evening breeze caught it, and despite his attempt at a polite smile, his brown eyes held depths of sadness that reminded me uncomfortably of my own reflection.
I nodded and walked toward the rooftop's edge, gazing out at the sprawling landscape that stretched toward the horizon. The view really was spectacular from up here, something I'd noticed during previous visits to this same spot.
"It's beautiful up here," I said casually, as if seeing it for the first time.
Then I turned to face him directly.
"Whatever you're currently thinking about will pass," I said quietly. "And I need you not to make any stupid decisions because of it."
"What?" His confusion was genuine.
"Your revenge plan, Austin," I said, using his name deliberately. "Kill it"