Ariel barely had time to register the sound before she felt it.
A shift in the air.
The dungeon had always been cold, but now—it was suffocating.
The torches flickered violently, the shadows stretched unnaturally, and then—
The iron door creaked open with a slow, deliberate groan.
Ariel's breath caught in her throat.
She knew who it was.
Luciel stepped inside with the unhurried confidence of a man who owned everything around him—including her. The heavy door shut behind him with a low, echoing boom, sealing her fate.
The air around him was different. Darker. Thicker. It pressed against her lungs, made her chest tighten, made her instincts scream to run.
But she had nowhere to run.
He took a step forward.
She took a step back.
His lips curled. "What's wrong, little bird?" His voice was soft, smooth as silk, yet laced with something sharp beneath. Mocking. Dangerous. "Why do you look so frightened?"
