"The last Celestial Pureblood."
Her head was still spinning from the battle. From the wings. From the light that had burst out of her like a second sun.
And now this.
Lucien remained seated beside her bed, his posture controlled but his mind clearly racing.
"What does that mean?" she asked softly.
Before he could answer, the temperature in the room dropped.
Not violently this time.
But deliberately.
The silver flames in the fireplace darkened into deep crimson.
Adrian stepped into the room silently.
"He's here," the vampire said calmly.
Lucien didn't need to ask who.
The air shifted — not with chaotic force, but with overwhelming authority.
Then a voice filled the chamber.
Smooth.
Ancient.
Terrifyingly composed.
"You speak of me as though I require an invitation."
The shadows near the balcony thickened, folding inward like fabric being drawn together.
And he stepped through them.
Tall.
Elegant.
Power radiating from him like gravity.
Eyes glowing like molten fire.
She recognized him instantly from the throne of flame.
The man from her dream.
The King of Hell.
Lucifer.
Her body reacted before her mind did. The mark on her chest pulsed violently.
Lucien rose immediately, placing himself between her and his father.
"You will not touch her," Lucien said coldly.
Lucifer's lips curved faintly.
"My son," he said smoothly, his voice like silk wrapped around steel. "Still pretending this is about protection."
The room felt smaller under his presence.
"You entered her dream," Lucien said. "That was not your right."
Lucifer tilted his head slightly. "Everything within Hell is my right."
His gaze shifted to her.
And when those molten eyes locked onto hers—
She couldn't breathe.
Not because he was choking her.
But because his presence was overwhelming. Ancient. Crushing.
"So," Lucifer murmured, studying her carefully. "This is the one who unsettles Heaven."
Her fingers dug into the bedsheets.
"I won't let you take her," Lucien said.
Lucifer's expression didn't change.
"Take her?" he repeated calmly. "My son… I do not need to take her."
A pause.
"She will come willingly when she understands what she is."
Her stomach twisted.
"What am I?" she demanded, forcing her voice steady despite the fear crawling up her spine.
Lucifer smiled faintly.
"You are the bridge."
The word echoed in her chest.
"Heaven cannot claim you fully," he continued. "Hell cannot destroy you easily. Your blood can unseal gates long closed. You are balance… or ruin."
Lucien's energy shifted darker.
"You will not manipulate her."
Lucifer's eyes flicked toward his son.
"And you will not defy me forever."
The air trembled between them.
Father and son.
King and Prince.
Power pressed against power — invisible but immense.
Lucifer stepped closer — not to Lucien.
To her.
Lucien moved instantly, but Lucifer raised one hand lazily.
Lucien froze.
Not harmed.
But restrained.
Her heart nearly stopped.
"Do not mistake this for weakness," Lucifer said calmly to his son. "You are powerful. But I am still your King."
Then he looked at her again.
"You fear me," he observed.
She swallowed. "Shouldn't I?"
A soft chuckle escaped him.
"Yes."
He leaned slightly closer — not touching her, but close enough that she could feel heat radiating from him.
"But you should fear Heaven more."
Her eyes widened.
Lucifer straightened.
"They will not celebrate your existence," he said quietly. "They will not crown you. They will cage you."
Silence fell heavily.
"And you," he added, glancing at Lucien, "are already breaking for her."
Lucien's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Lucifer stepped back toward the shadows.
"The witches grow impatient," he said. "If they succeed before we act… Heaven wins."
He paused.
And for the first time, something flickered in his gaze.
Not cruelty.
Calculation.
"I will not allow Heaven to gain advantage."
The shadows wrapped around him once more.
Before disappearing completely, he left her with one final sentence.
"You are not prey, child."
The room returned to normal.
The flames shifted back to silver.
Lucien was free.
Silence.
Heavy.
She looked at him slowly.
"Your father doesn't want me dead."
Lucien's eyes were dark.
"No."
Her pulse quickened.
"He wants to use me."
"Yes."
A long pause.
"And you?" she asked quietly.
The question hung between them like a blade.
Lucien stepped closer to her bed.
His voice dropped lower.
More personal.
"I want you alive."
Not as a weapon.
Not as a bridge.
Just alive.
Her heart betrayed her and skipped.
Because for the first time…
She believed him.