Seraphina’s POV

Ugh, it’s so bright.

The blare of silence fills the room, loud in its own right. I roll over with a groan, my hand patting the nightstand in search of my phone. The screen blinks to life under my fingertips, and the numbers glaring back at me send a jolt through my chest. Ten minutes late. The alarm, set for the top of the hour, remains silent, mocking my reliance on it.

Crap, I can’t be late for class!

The covers explode away as I lurch from the bed, my legs trembling violently, still entangled in the web of last night’s relentless dreams. A shadowy door burns behind my eyelids, a desperate whisper clawing from the depths of darkness, beckoning me.

“Sera. Seraphina!”

My heart skips, a chill spreading over my skin.

It was probably just a nightmare. Yes, that must be it.

While rummaging through my closet, I grab a black sweater and a pair of ripped shorts, jerking them on as I sprint towards the mirror. My fingers wrestle through tangled strands of black hair, coaxing them with a brush. With a backpack slung over one shoulder, I hurdle down the stairs, one hand fumbling with my boot’s stubborn buckle.

“Mom?”

Upon entering the living room, I find her asleep on the couch, still dressed in her scrubs from last night.

“Mom, I’m heading out.” I lean down to kiss her forehead. She doesn’t stir.

As I turn to leave, guilt twists in my stomach. Mom has been working double shifts just to make ends meet, exhausted, but too proud to ask for help. And Dad... I grip my backpack strap.

For weeks I’ve noticed him taking longer business trips, coming home with lies on his lips.

But I have to stay focused. I can worry about my family later.

I hurry out, quietly closing the door for Mom’s sake. A shiny red sports car pulls up to the curb, the passenger window whirring down to reveal Paige’s grinning face.

“Get in loser, we’re racing the clock!” Her eyes dancing with familiar amusement. I force a small smile and climb into the warm interior, buckling my seatbelt as Paige speeds down the street.

“Rough morning?” She glances at me from the corner of her eye. I sigh and lean my head back against the seat. Paige knows me too well, always able to sense when something is bothering me beneath the surface.

“Yeah, you could say that.” I pause, rubbing my temple. “Mom was up late again. Dad...” Paige reaches over and gives my hand a comforting squeeze.

“Hey, you’re not alone in this, okay? I’m always here.”

I give her a small smile, grateful for her friendship.

Despite my worries, being with Paige helps lighten my mood. Her bubbly personality is infectious, and soon I laugh again at her antics - like the time she tried baking and almost burned down her mom’s kitchen.

Too soon, Paige’s red sports car pulls into the parking lot of Osyluth University. The towering gothic architecture of the campus looms ahead, all sharp angles and gray stone contrasting with the lush green lawns. In the early morning hours, the university grounds are silent. Most students have yet to arrive for their morning classes.

Paige drops me off at the front steps of Cerberus Hall before speeding off to her class.

As I enter the old stone building, an eerie feeling creeps up my spine. The hall is quiet, my footsteps echoing in the cavernous foyer. I pull out my schedule to double check the room number for my Intro to Drawing Fundamentals.

Turning down the dimly lit hallway, my eyes caught on an old wooden door that seemed peculiarly out of place. Scrawled in a frantic hand across its center were the ominous words: “KEEP OUT.”

I feel myself drawn to the strange door, curiosity and intrigue welling up inside me. I know I should walk away, continue on to class, but something compels me to stay. Glancing down the empty hallway to check I am alone; I turn the rusty knob and peer inside.

A stairway descends into darkness. My heart pounds as I fumble for my phone, switching on the flashlight to illuminate the unknown below. I make my way down the creaking steps.

The musty air grows colder the further I go. My breath fogs in the pale blue light. At the bottom, another door bars my way—this one emblazoned with a large pentagram etched into the metal. A flickering light emanates from beneath, casting strange shadows that dance across the earthen floor.

Curiosity overwhelms caution as I grasp the iron handle and pull. The heavy door creaks open, revealing a dim underground chamber illuminating a horror beyond my imagining.

Chained to the far wall with shackles of red-hot iron is a looming figure, his sculpted muscles glistening with rivulets of sweat. Great golden horns curl from his forehead and leather gauntlets cover each arm. His face, framed by blonde hair, is beautiful - all high cheekbones and full lips drawn back in a feral snarl.

Our eyes meet, and in this instant, something passes between us - a spark, a connection, a mingling of souls that steals the breath from my lungs. I know I am looking upon something not of this world.

A tormented being, bound in chains, stirs as I intrude. His cries of agony resonate with my soul-deep longing to escape suffering and pain.

“Wait... don’t leave,” he groans, golden eyes blazing into mine, each word a low rumble trembling with electrifying relief.

I stumble backward, my hand grasping the doorframe for support. Instincts scream inside my head, urging me to run, but something riveting holds me in place—the raw, wounded pride flickering in his eyes.

My whole-body trembles under the weight of his imposing stare, yet something in me wants to reach out, to soothe his anguish.

“For the love of hell,” he gasps, desperation clawing at his throat, “please, free me from these bindings.”

Against my better judgment, my hands move to the shackles, fingers wrapping around the hot iron. A sizzling pain shoots up my arm, but I grit my teeth and push on. With a metallic shriek, the first bond drops away.

Golden eyes watch me, a flicker of something like hope dancing in their depths.

As the second shackle falls, he jerks his arms with a pained groan, rubbing the life back into his scarred wrists.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice a soft, vulnerable plea stirring a longing I had never dared to face.

I hold his piercing gaze, trying to muster the courage that his presence seemed to demand.

“Who are you?”

He sighs, as if the weight of ages rested upon him.

“Lucas, though, that is but a name. I am what remains of the first hell, the Lord of Pride. Do you understand the burden this title carries?”

My heart pounds in my chest as I stare into Lucas’s piercing golden eyes. A lord of hell stands before me, and yet I feel no fear. There’s only an intense curiosity and a strange attraction that I didn’t fully understand.

“I can’t imagine such a burden,” I reply softly.

Lucas gazes at me with an unreadable expression. “You intrigue me, human. Most would cower in terror at the sight of me, but you... you are different.”

He takes a step towards me, and I hold my ground, meeting his eyes boldly. A faint smile curls at the corners of his lips. “You’re braver than anyone I’ve seen in ages. Tell me your name.”

“Seraphina,” I answer, my voice barely louder than a whisper. It feels wrong not to give him my name after what I have done for him.

Lucas smiles in reminiscence. “Seraphina. Such a beautiful name.” He steps closer, and I stand my ground once more, gazing into his mesmerizing golden eyes.

“You intrigue me as well, devil,” I confess, my heart fluttering in my chest. “Most people would flee from your appearance, yet you seem...”

Lucas steps even closer, stopping so that only a breath separated our faces. Though I knew I should feel afraid, his nearness sent pleasant shivers down my spine instead.

“Call me Lucas,” he whispers. “And what do I seem to you, Seraphina?”

Lost in his mesmerizing gaze, I struggle to find words. “You’re not as monstrous or sinister as they say.”

A small smirk appears on his lips. “Is that so? Maybe you just haven’t seen my true form yet. But I don’t want to scare you when we’ve only just met.”

“Now tell me, why were you locked away here?”

Lucas ran a hand through his hair, his voice edged with a mix of defiance and bitterness. “They threw me out to the mortal realm, you know. Said it was punishment. In the nine hells, pride will get you a nice kick in the teeth. I dared to question my father, challenge his ways—I didn’t just stop there, though. I demanded change, envisioning reforms for damned souls.”

Lucas gazes into the distance as he speaks, as if remembering a past he wishes to forget. I watch him silently, sensing depths of torment behind his proud visage.

“Your father?” I ask gently. Lucas turns his focus back to me, golden eyes meeting mine with an unfathomable intensity.

Lucas sighs and turns away, gazing into the flickering flames of the torches lining the stone walls. When he spoke, his voice was low and solemn. “My father was Satan, the overlord of the seven hells. And somehow, despite everything that sets us apart, he chose me, his youngest, to be the heir. Can you imagine?”

He turns to me, his eyes full of anguish. “But my mother was an archangel who infiltrated hell through deception, earning their trust over centuries before seducing my father. Their union was strategic - a plot devised by heaven to weaken hell from within. When I was born, it shattered the fragile peace that had existed. There was rage, division... war. The devils saw me as an abomination, impure blood in their lineage. The angels condemned my very existence as a sin.”

“So, does this mean you can’t go back to hell?” I ask cautiously.

Lucas releases a bitter laugh. “Go back to hell? How could I, when my powers are tied to a mortal?”

“But isn’t there some way for you?”

Lucas exhales deeply. “She holds the lightest part of my soul. Without it, I’m incomplete."

As he speaks, Lucas studies my face carefully. His intense golden gaze searches my eyes, yet he says nothing more.

Could it be...?

No, he thinks, shaking away the thought. After so long, it seems impossible.

An uncomfortable silence stretches between us. I fidget under the weight of his stare, wishing to ease his obvious torment, but unable to find the right words.

There is an intensity in his eyes, a glimmer of realization beginning to dawn, though he dares not speak it.

How do I explain the strange pull that led me to here? The calling I’ve felt all my life, as if searching for something I’ve never known?

Looking at Lucas now, unchained yet no freer, I still don’t understand.

He steps closer, towering above me, yet his expression remains gentle. “I offer you protection. You freed me, Seraphina, and for that, I am in your debt. I swear on my life that no harm will come to you while you are by my side.”

As I extend my hand towards his chest and glance at my watch, my eyes widen.

“Oh no, I’m late!” I exclaim, stumbling over my own shoes as I fumble with my backpack. “Lucas, I really appreciate the offer, but I’ve got to dash. Class already started, and Professor Williams will have my head.” I flash an apologetic smile, trying to mask the mounting panic in my voice.

Lucas tilts his head, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Then I shall follow like a shadow, ensuring no harm befalls you.”

I break into a run down the hallway, glancing back only to find Lucas vanished. Yet an inexplicable warmth tells me he’s nearby, watching.

As I hurry to class, my mind spins wildly with questions.

What have I gotten myself into? And more worryingly, what will become of me now that I’ve freed an imprisoned devil?